Got the marriage license. The woman didn't even ask to see our i.d. We could have been anybody swearing that we aren't related and over 18 who have notified each other of any sexually transmitted diseases we may have.

Happy Birthday, Peter!

The good news is I'm not as bad a dancer as I thought. The bad news it Adam is a worse dancer than I thought. But at least our song is short: 2 minutes and 13 seconds.

The oddest piece of wedding junk mail I've gotten so far: an add for "background screen rentals" so we can "discover the unique difference a Forte Design background screen could make in the visual quality of your celebration." We could disguise that hideous view of the Sound with a design of a Cotswold Stone Walled Garden or Monet's Water Garden. Who does this kind of thing?

The flight from Miami to Seattle is one of the most annoying ever. However, it occurred to me that barring any family emergencies, yesterday's trip was very well the last one I'll make. All future flights to Miami will be the shorter hop from the northeast. Odd that I can already start counting "lasts."

My cousin's wedding was interesting. The highlight for me was when Adam asked Annie to dance, she danced with him for two minutes and then stopped, declaring, "You don't know how to dance!" I knew it wasn't all me! The ceremony was on the beach, open somewhat to the public. Shannon looked gorgeous, of course. Oliver performed the ceremony (a perfect ceremony, my father declared. "Just twelve minutes! Will yours be that short?"). Milo and Annie were adorable ("Will you do as good a job at my wedding?" I asked. Milo said, "Maybe better!" Annie concurred, "Yeah, maybe better!"). A few hitches--the recessional music never played, and there was something wrong with the seating, so that there was a little last minute scrambling. They bucked a few traditions--no first dance, no cake cutting. Adam and I hung with the kids and Oliver, Jennifer, Claudia, and Stoney most of the night, so we had fun. Missed a lot of the Oscars, but we caught the important awards when we got home.

Now, I'm off to my personal trainer. A lovely luxury that turns out to make a real difference in my strength training. Meaning, I now do it. But today I'm tired after the lack of sleep in Miami (it was so hot at night that we couldn't sleep and we spent much of the days napping) and the time difference. Not that my trainer cares. Sigh. Just 14 more days in the office until my vacation. Focus on the candy. Remember the candy.

Celebrity sighting: Rosie O'Donell at Joe Allen's, where we were having drinks with Brian and his fiancee.

In Miami, all traffic laws are optional.

Adam made it. Annie likes him. I guess I have no reason then, at this point, to not marry him.

The blog is on the road--I'm writing from my father's computer in Miami Beach. I'm here for my cousin's wedding. But the really exciting news for this weekend is that Claire Bear got into the creative writing program at U-Dub. Yeah, Claire Bear. Although, I am so not surprised. Her writing is fantastic. If only she would share it with more folks...

Anyway, I've been here for a day and already I'm enmeshed in my home life. At Shannon's rehearsal dinner tonight, my grandmother said to me, "You just look lovely. You've lost a lot of weight. Last time you were here you were fat and you really didn't look good. But you look nice now. Really. Last time you were just so unattractive because you were so fat." This went on. I heard the word "fat" at least four times. But at least I got to spend time with my favorite boy cousin, Milo, and my favorite girl cousin, Annie. They were adorable. They're both psyched for the trip to Seattle.

This keyboard makes me crazy--typing on a low, flat keyboard and this monitor is skewed funny. Miami is such a funny place. It's home, but it's not home. I sort of feel like I don't have a real home, because I've never lived any one place for an extended period of time. My parents no longer live in the house I grew up in; now they have a lovely condo, but it's not home. Even the art is different. Once upon a time, it was all metal phallic pieces. Now she's on to nudes. I see my grandmother in my mother and I see my mother in me, and I think I'm afraid. Abba was in good spirits tonight, but he's seeming older. Couldn't get enough Jack Daniels in his glass. I did confirm, though, that there will be an open bar at the rehearsal dinner.

The one month to go (and yes, I know you're all counting). Things done: rehearsal dinner invitations addressed and being mailed today, wedding jewelry purchased (thanks to Mary who helped me pick them out), private dance lessons signed up for (to avoid the high school "grab and sway" dance and since the group lessons were such a dismal failure for me), reception music sorted out, the photographer's been paid. Still a few deliquent response cards, but mostly from people who are still trying to work out their schedules (thanks, Sandra, for finally responding--try to be a little speedier with the rehearsal card or else you'll be eating whatever I decide you'll be served).

The house clean-up is going a little more slowly. A bunch of our friends are taking some of the furniture in the basement, which I like a whole lot better than trying to sell it all on the work e-mail sales majordomo or giving it all to Goodwill. We've given a bunch of smaller stuff away, and we're trying to be ruthless on what we keep. My green Woolworth dishes from my last year of college finally made their way to the giveaway pile. We're getting such lovely wedding gifts, and we're turning around and boxing them up. That way, we can keep all the original packing on them and when we get to Boston, it'll be fun to have all new pieces for our new house.

Off now to my personal trainer and then work. Work. Ugh.

Mary came by to look at my dress tonight so we can go jewelry shopping next week. Mary's got great taste, so I don't have to worry about getting anything too gaudy or ugly. Speaking of shopping, had to call Visa today to have my credit limit raised. Amazing what half the caterer's bill, two plane tickets to Italy, a new computer, and a photographer's payment will do to your credit card. Sigh.

Adam updated his weblog to Blogger Pro without me. You know why? Because he's a twit, that's why. And he's only started updating his weblog in the past week or so. Twit.

The Realtor wants us to put our house on the market before the wedding. Can't imagine how we'll get this place in shape in time. This weekend will be spent cleaning out the basement and washing windows. We still need to get another bid on getting the front porch fixed. It takes a lot of work to get a place in shape. Yuck.

Wow, I think that sums up this week so far. Sigh, twit, yuck. 'Nuff said.

KPLU plays "Sunday Night Blues." How apropos. I had to turn it off and put in a Subdudes c.d., because it was doing its job too well. I hate Sunday nights. Only 12 more of them after this one (there are more than that, but I miss a few mondays at work. I have to leave to get Adam at the airport in about 20 minutes, so I figured it was a good time for an update.

Wedding Stuff
Six weeks from now and I'll be an old married lady. I worry because everyone promised the wedding would consume my life and it hasn't. It makes me think that I must be missing something. But every thing seems to be going smoothly. I had a lovely brunch today with David and Alisa--totally bummed that we'll be on our honeymoon when they get married. Alisa came with me to get the dress from the seamstress. Seems to be fine. She moved the buttons and there are tiny pinpricks. She could have moved them back, but I decided that you had to be looking to see the pinpricks and it did seem to make a little difference in ease of closing them and the way they lay. Responses are trickling in. We've gotten just over half in. The reply by date is this Friday. We'll see how many we get in the next week or so (I figure a bunch of people will mail them on the reply by date). The rehearsal invitations are at the printers. They'll be somewhat more formal looking than the wedding invites since we're having them done, thermography and all (figured we'd do them like Shannon's since my grandparents are hosting ours as well as hers). Met with Andy tonight to talk about the guest book (which he's making). He has some good ideas. He has pretty much free reign over it. And that's where wedding stuff stands.

Las Vegas
Vegas, baby, Vegas. I won't say too much of it here--it was probably tamer than you're imagining, but it was oh-so-much fun. The weekend of girl bonding was much needed, and it didn't hurt that I paid for the trip with a night at the black jack tables. The most decadent it probably got was us at the Bally's buffet (mmmm, Bally's buffet), but there was still plenty o' drinking, gambling, and dancing (rah! or Ra, as the case may be). The bunny ears and wedding veil were a touch embarrassing (as was the list Melissa brought of all my ex-boyfriends), however, that may have been the luck that won me all that money at the tables. Either that and the lucky socks earlier in the day. I forgot to pack socks, so I had to buy some. Nice black ones with big green hundred dollar bills on them. Oh yeah, baby. I was so money.

Everything Else
People keep asking what I'm going to do in Boston. I don't know! Stop asking. I'll let you all know as soon as I decide. I wish I could wear a sign, "Yes, we're selling the house, no I don't know if we'll be buying or renting, yes, I'll be looking for a job, no I don't know in what, yes, it is all very exciting and scary, no, I don't mind going."

Hey, how did it get to be so late? Must run to the airport now.

Looking outside the front window, I became concerned because our camilla tree had some sort of white fungus all over it! After a moment of staring at this white fungus, I realize it was falling from the sky. Isn't that just like Seattle? Our first heavy snowstorm of winter comes when spring is just three weeks away. It is beautiful out there. Sticking everywhere and it's not slowing down at all.

So hard to find time to write! I've been meaning to catch up, but I get home from work and I'm just beat. Mornings are spent exercising and taking care of househould stuff (cleaning, paying bills, and such). I was feeling a little blue about work, and then I realized... I have just 13 more Mondays! Too bizarre when I think of it that way.

The responses are trickling in. I'm surprised how many people haven't RSVP'd yet. But they still have another week before the "due date." In fact, some folks who read this log haven't responded yet. Where are you people?