We're back from our dreamlike European honeymoon, and we've been spending the week since getting all settled into our first apartment home. Which is somehow almost as fun as being in Europe. Getting settled is amazing.
Today is Jared's first day doing some job training, and I'm kickin' it at the apartment, unpacking my four thousand boxes (girls have so much stuff) and getting distracted along the way by sparkly nail polishes and long-forgotten hair and makeup products.
You learn lots of things about your spouse when you get married. Like such as . . .
-Jared takes immaculate care of his teeth. Which would explain why they always look amazing. And which makes my personal hygiene routine look wussy. But let's be real--we already knew that.
-He can organize anything in less than 5 minutes. And he's way better at laundry than I am. Score.
-Musts in our kitchen, says him: fruit juice, hint of lime tortilla chips, Log Cabin lite maple syrup, frozen chicken.
(Musts in our kitchen, says me: eggs, protein powder, edamame, flowers.)
-He's an amazing cook. Pre-marriage he could grill up some wicked delicious chicken, but otherwise it was mostly Asian Select meals from the freezer section. Now he be makin me this gourmet tortilla soup which is way better than any soup I have ever made, and I cook all the time. Also, please take this moment to enjoy our jelly-bean-filled piggy bank centerpiece, courtesy of Jared's mother.
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Jared and I are having the greatest honeymoon to ever happen, because this is what we have seen whilst in Germany:
-Bare old man bums in the park. Like 500 of them.
-2 dudes making way too much PDA on each others' faces at a high-schooler street party.
-Scary boy with scary dog following us around for a block or two after we walked through said high-schooler street party at midnight.
-A grown man taking off his dress on a cruise down the Rhine as his friends sang German drinking songs in the middle of the day.
-The following sign, as we drove away from our meal at a gas station Burger King:
Also, France is empty now, guys. We went to this huge French city and no one was there. Bastille Day or something. Whatevs. Let's all move to France though--it's so beautiful when you have it to yourself.
And our current hotel in the Swiss Alps is nice until you open the balcony doors and are knocked off your feet by the fresh smell of ultra ripe cow dung. Yum.
It's also nice here because Jared was in charge of choosing the opening song for our Family Home Evening tonight. He chose a song called "PDA."
Nice.
And this is a picture of my shirtless husband in a field of German wheat. It's normal
With 5 days to go, I'll admit I've become something of a crazy person.
Jared's family/extended family threw me the loveliest of bridal showers on Saturday, though.
It was possibly the most beautiful party I've ever attended, with lots of bright colors and delicious finger-foods, a five-star video, and so many kind guests offering well-wishes and nice, useful gifts.
That somehow restored my sanity and perspective, and for one day, all I felt was bliss (and spider fangs in my toe) as I realized that we are so fortunate and even if I don't procure an idea for the world's most fantastic table centerpieces by Saturday, we will be married and all will be spiffy.
Yes, spiffy.
And seven days from now we'll be in Germany! Which realization actually caused my sanity to come crumbling back down because I forgot that that's the sort of thing that one should shop and pack for.
And my brothers are itching for me to leave so they can take over my room, so I guess I need to pack and move all that, too. And finish planning this wedding, I suppose. With hair appointments and temple trips and court appearances and major holiday celebrations on the side.
This is why I spent an hour this evening rolled up in a ball on my floor, nibbling slices of turkey and talking to my fiance over the phone about the trauma that is my inability to find my class notes from a course I took three semesters ago that would allow me to dissect his Arizona dialect. Anything to stall the hang-up, because that would mean it would be time to face real life.
Yes, the crazy person has emerged. At least wedding-week Laura doesn't reflect Bridezilla so much as she does an ultra hyperactively jittery version of herself that uses unnecessarily long words and blabbers on and on about nothing and everything all at the same time.
Hey look, school notebook spotting on the top shelf!
Dialectology awaits me.
Next time, I'll return saner and with smaller words and more pictures.
5 DAYS, PEOPLE!!
Life's so great.
Go buy yourself a snowcone and eat it by yourself on a swing.
Because nothing's better than alone time with a heaping pile of sugar-snow whilst watching children play tag.
You may call me Ramby the Rambunctious Rambler.
Jared's family/extended family threw me the loveliest of bridal showers on Saturday, though.
It was possibly the most beautiful party I've ever attended, with lots of bright colors and delicious finger-foods, a five-star video, and so many kind guests offering well-wishes and nice, useful gifts.
That somehow restored my sanity and perspective, and for one day, all I felt was bliss (and spider fangs in my toe) as I realized that we are so fortunate and even if I don't procure an idea for the world's most fantastic table centerpieces by Saturday, we will be married and all will be spiffy.
Yes, spiffy.
And seven days from now we'll be in Germany! Which realization actually caused my sanity to come crumbling back down because I forgot that that's the sort of thing that one should shop and pack for.
And my brothers are itching for me to leave so they can take over my room, so I guess I need to pack and move all that, too. And finish planning this wedding, I suppose. With hair appointments and temple trips and court appearances and major holiday celebrations on the side.
This is why I spent an hour this evening rolled up in a ball on my floor, nibbling slices of turkey and talking to my fiance over the phone about the trauma that is my inability to find my class notes from a course I took three semesters ago that would allow me to dissect his Arizona dialect. Anything to stall the hang-up, because that would mean it would be time to face real life.
Yes, the crazy person has emerged. At least wedding-week Laura doesn't reflect Bridezilla so much as she does an ultra hyperactively jittery version of herself that uses unnecessarily long words and blabbers on and on about nothing and everything all at the same time.
Hey look, school notebook spotting on the top shelf!
Dialectology awaits me.
Next time, I'll return saner and with smaller words and more pictures.
5 DAYS, PEOPLE!!
Life's so great.
Go buy yourself a snowcone and eat it by yourself on a swing.
Because nothing's better than alone time with a heaping pile of sugar-snow whilst watching children play tag.
You may call me Ramby the Rambunctious Rambler.
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