Life in the Slow Lane

This week marks three years since the first of my siblings got married. I am one of five, and the only one not yet "hitched". As anyone knows, coming at the end always creates a great deal of expectation to maintain traditions, but I always was the really rebellious one (just ask my sister about the only time she thinks I ever got into trouble). So speaking of traditions, let me share with those of you who are not aware, some of the numbers involved with the four marriages that have already occurred among my siblings: #1) Two wedding ceremonies, two receptions, two languages #2) Three ceremonies, four receptions/after parties, two languages #3) One ceremony, three receptions, two languages #4) Two ceremonies, two receptions, two languages Folks, I plan to do what has never been done before. Yes, dear readers after a total of 8 ceremonies and 11 receptions with significant usage of multiple languages, I plan to break the mold! Who knows whether it is actually possible?!? But ...

Early on someone gave me this tip to narrowing down a "much too large" wedding guest list: Only invite people you have talked to in the last six months. I think if I were to do this, I might end up with only ten friends at my wedding... and that would be a very lonely feeling indeed. Well, I suppose I could invite the man who informed me that all of a certain central African country was mad at me (I heard from him the other day, he says that this is no reason why we cannot still be friends.) or maybe even the woman who braved the wire tap on her phone line to tell me that the mafia, the catholics, and the military were all thick together "if you get my meaning". But friends I actually know who I have talked to in the last six months? Certainly not enough to justify getting much more than a wedding cupcake. That is until in one moment of wedding planning procrastination I started a Facebook profile. And in four days I found 46 friends. Yes, of course, it would be ...

I am not a fan of floating words. Hope Family Blessings Love Laughter I've seen all of these floating in decorator space, and it seems almost painful. Perhaps it has to do with a Compulsive Reading Disorder which causes me to read and re-read a word no matter how many times I see it and have read it. For instance, you don't want to know how many times I've read the same cereal box or the really lame comic posted next to the computer I sometimes borrow. (The irony is that the lame comic is this guy at a race track and every time the race car flies past he says, "Woah. déjà vu .") But Compulsive Reading Disorder aside, I think it has more to do with a sense that you have lost everything but one magnet from the set of magnetic poetry on your fridge. Or maybe it is because it is like one solitary little wisp of a cloud on a day that was meant for a soul-stirring sunset. Floating words are like a single note confidently played and then left hanging, naked of the co...

Dear [My one name here], Thank you for your letter… You said you would be willing to assist me, so I am going to take you up on your offer. Please write to the Queen of England and tell her to read… [Seriously.]