Sometimes You Feel Like A…

Have you ever gained a little bit of ground only to feel your foot sliding beneath you? Imagine carrying this heavy weight on your shoulders while going uphill and not being able to gain any traction. It’s precarious. It’s scary because you know that you can’t catch yourself. You’re flexing your hips, bending your knees, shifting every way you can think of that might keep you on your feet instead of on your back with that heavy weight coming down on top of you. Now imagine that you are in this same position with a Rottweiler racing towards you with his teeth bared. That’s close to how I feel right now.

I was going to title this entry “A Granny Panties kind of Day” when I thought about writing it yesterday, but that seemed kind of a TMI title (and it wasn’t Tuesday). The point of the title is that there are just some days when you want to be comfortable, supported, without anyone all up in your business. That’s what I call a granny panties kind of day. It’s not a boy shorts day where the bottom is just hanging out but the important bits are covered. It’s not a thong day where it covers only the really important things but still manages to be all up in your business. It’s not a string bikini day where everything’s covered but it’s all hanging by a thread. It’s a hi-cut, control top, only available in nude, black or white granny panties day. You’re just holding it all in, holding it all together as tightly as you can. Yes, that.

I feel the need to have a bit of melodrama at the moment. I went to clean out my car this morning, seeing it for the first time since the accident. It was a sight to behold. I wasn’t aware of how badly damaged it was. I knew that it was totaled because the airbags had deployed and various fluids were leaking, but I had no idea that it looked that bad. Seeing the airbags, front end damage, and buckling on the side, it just makes me grateful my car is not made of plastic. Seriously. Someone at my church told me a story about being involved in a business where they had to stick a promotional magnet on the side of their cars. Another person she knew said their magnet kept sliding down because the doors weren’t actually metal. o_O Anyway, the other person’s insurance company will be taking my car today or tomorrow to their own facility while they determine liability and etc. We will see how long this takes to sort itself out.

Looking at my car, along with the gratitude I felt that my injuries weren’t worse and that my car held up well, I felt…disappointed. I had finally gained a small foothold on the financial mountain, a little bit of black in a blood red financial ledger, and I slipped. No, not slipped. I was pushed right off the side. Worse, I was pushed off on step one. You see, there was a well-developed plan in my head for finally securing a few things and moving forward. Step one: pay off car. Step Two: open a savings account and begin to save money for the future. Step Three: Meet w/ director of paralegal studies and map out a plan to be able to sit for the paralegal exam (ensuring work development/better opportunities). Step Four: Finish my book, and then begin focusing on my fiction works in production. Step Five: REALLY get this married or single thing nailed down. Take some time apart or whatever we have to do. I mean, I thought we had dealt with this already, but since it still wasn’t crystal clear…

That was the plan. But we know what happens to our plans. I am not surprised by this. I acknowledge that it could be worse. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck right now. It’s still not fair that someone out celebrating a birthday with booze derailed what took me months, even years to line up. It’s really irritating, then, when people won’t let me have my moment. If you know me, you know that I love planning. Organization is my thing. I like to know what the plan is for going forward. I am not shy about asking for advice when I need/want it. I’m an optimistic person who naturally looks on the bright side; however, when there is no plan immediately at hand, let me have my moment. I don’t ask for advice while having my moment; I ask for some support and comfort. I don’t want a solution. I don’t need thong love; I want granny panty love. Is that too hard to understand? I’ll be back to boy shorts, thongs and the like eventually.

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A Decision That’s Not a Decision At All

Through the last few days I’ve been trying to figure out how to get this post done, and to be honest, I still haven’t figured it out yet. I’m sure that the lack of my flashing something shiny would let you know that I am not engaged to anyone, yet I am not exactly single either. I’m still in this weird limbo place, and it’s driving me crazy and making me MAD.

Let’s start closer to the beginning. The goal was to be able to make a decision about my relationship by the end of last year. Through countless discussions, two concurrent rounds of pre-marital counseling, two long weekend getaways, and a 90th birthday celebration, we worked our way through making a decision. Yet at this moment, though a decision has been made, I feel like there is no decision at all.

I talked to MensHealth on December 30th about what he had decided. At that time he told me that he couldn’t imagine his life in the future without me and he wanted to move forward to getting married. While that sounds like getting engaged/planning to get married, it hasn’t turned out to be that. He hasn’t actually proposed, which he says he plans to do, and he isn’t anymore willing to stop using if we get married, even though he’s stated his intention to get married. I feel like I’m getting swindled here.

During the above conversation, we talked about some things moving forward that were more concrete, and other than things on my end, none of those things have progressed beyond being talked about. I’m still being subjected to conversations about how this or that is contingent upon us getting engaged–the eternal “if.” I know, through all of my extensive research, that the longer you would take to move forward with plans you are making to marry within this calendar year, the harder (and more expensive) it will be to pull off. If you don’t want to make any plans until you propose, fine. But that means if you propose in March, but want to be married this year, you have a really intensive (and, again, expensive) road ahead. It really sounds like to me despite what he says that he really just isn’t ready to be engaged, let alone married. And I am not willing to marry anyone this unsure. Heck, I wouldn’t buy a deordant that says it may or may not prevent excessive sweating and body odor.

We have decided to spend more time apart. I think that’s best. If he’s not willing to move forward in a concrete way, then I need to step back and start focusing on other things. If you read my other blog, then you know my car was totaled this past week. I will have to stop taking my class, as I won’t have a ride each week. The money I planned to save by not having a car payment is gone. Because of how I lowered my car insurance when I paid off the car less than a month ago, I am not covered for most of the damages. Luckily, I was not at fault and the other driver was DUI, so I should get a settlement from his insurance company. No matter what happens, my plans for moving forward in my career and financially have effectively been derailed.

At this point, I don’t know what this is supposed to teach me or do for me. I have no nuggets of wisdom or advice about anything. I have no real plans for going forward. This very moment, I am revising my book and reordering my schedule. I am taking comfort from the scriptures and the thoughts, prayers and visits of friends. I am living.



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A New Year Bejeweled…

Coming into a new year, people always focus on the fact that you can’t change the past, that the past must be moved on from in order to appreciate the new. While I sat listening to “sermonettes” on like “Get Yours in 2013” “Keep on Knocking” and “Trials Will Come,” the focus seemed to be on consistency, focus and faith. The thing that stood out the most to me was in “Keep on Knocking,” when Dan stated how Satan sends emotional weapons to distract us from the “door” we are knocking on (and I am paraphrasing and forgeting some already): Anger makes us get mad at the door and stop knocking; jealousy makes us envious of what’s coming through someone else’s door instead of knocking on our own; pride says “I don’t need the door.” He was begging us to be consistent and persistent in our asking.

As I was sitting playing Bejeweled, I realized how the game messes up my strategy. I usually see more than one match to be made and I have to choose which one will most benefit me. I always mentally earmark the other choice(s) to come back to later. The thing is, though, often times by making one match, we lose the alignment that makes the other possible. Many times sitting there, I wish I could choose over again, to make a different choice. When I don’t slow down to fully appreciate how one move closes off the opportunity to make another move down the road, the game always ends quickly.

Reflecting back on last year, what I realized is that by focusing on gathering information to make a decision in my life, I through other things that were sure matches out of alignment. There’s no way to live without risk, no such thing as a sure thing except the things that fit when you put them together. Because I was so focused on being able to reach a decision in my relationship by the end of this year, other goals and focuses were neglected. The ultimate question will be “how did that move change the game?”

The major difference was that 2012 was supposed to be more about me; it ended up being mostly about one aspect of my life, an aspect that is still uncertain. I didn’t get the concrete thing I was searching for, and the opportunity to focus more on myself, what I wanted and needed, making myself look and feel more like the Erica I wanted to be, escaped me; that match was no longer able to be made. While I did well in my career, my star didn’t shine as brightly as it could have. I didn’t get started figuring out my next step as quickly as I should.

I don’t want you  to believe it all went bad, though. For some reason, when you’re not focused on some things, you see it more clearly out of the corner of your eye than you do head on. Since I wanted to be in a position to be able to marry or move on, I through all the extra income that came my way into bettering my position. I paid off bills (and cars!), I bought cleaning supplies, food, and hygiene products more regularly to make sure my home had everything I would need to maintain it. I got to take more trips (to New Orleans and St. Augustine, to name a few). I broke the payday advance cycle.

Not only did I get into a better position financially and get better at creating and maintaining a home for myself, I became a better person. I learned to communicate better. I took better care of myself from a health standpoint, getting back into exercising each day. I wrote more on my book and really found the vein that carries ideas to the whole body of work. I prayed for other people more last year than I ever have, specifically for marriages and families. It was as if my eyes had been opened to the couples around me in a new way. I wasn’t focused on what they had that I didn’t or being jealous that they were married and I wasn’t; I was able not only to be happy for them, but to truly care about them.

Whenever we make a choice, we have not made other choices. Sometimes we can still make a choice we didn’t in the future and sometimes the choice is lost to us forever. Each day we awake is a clean slate to make better decisions, not just each new year. We can never be 100% sure that a choice is best for us, better than other choices we can make. But with prayer, studying and meditating on God’s Word,  and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we must make choices.

Of course, none of this tells you how my ultimate decision 2012 turned out, nor does it tell you what the word of the year is for this year. That will have to wait until after I pick up these tickets to the Capital One Bowl.



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The 2012 That Never Was…

If ever any year confirmed for me that my word of the year philosophy is better than making resolutions, it was this one. I didn’t even stick to my word of the year, either the original one I intended to use or the one it turned out to be around my birthday (February). In fact, my year ended up being about a different word/theme entirely. So here’s what I wanted to happen, what I tried to make happen, and what actually happened.

From my posts late last year, this year was supposed to be the year of me. I was complaining about how all of 2011 seemed to be about other people and I wanted to focus on myself. I wanted this year to be about improving myself in every way and feeling like everything wasn’t about someone or something else. Well, this was a major fail, in my opinion.

By the time my birthday rolled around, at which point I still hadn’t put forth my word of the year, I decided that the word of the year should be decision. There were some areas of my life I needed to make some decisions on and get settled in my mind about. I wanted to have some resolution on where my relationship was going, on what I was doing in my job, whether or not to go back to school, where to live next year, etc. I wanted to make the hard decisions about my finances that needed to be made so that I could be better positioned going into 2013. This wasn’t as big of a fail as the year of me, but this didn’t turn out to be the word of the year, either.

As I’ve looked over the past 12 months, the thing that is abundantly clear to me is that this year has been about one thing for me: focus. Focus has been the focus of this year (see what I did there? :D). I’ve focused on one writing project instead of a million. I focused on finding out the details of my financial situation and coming up with a plan to address it. I focused on what going back to school would mean to my position at my job, and moved forward with submitting an application to a program that is well respected in the subject area I’ll be studying. When my mother sent me money, rather than spending it haphazardly, I focused on getting things I needed and paying bills. I established a routine of walking in the mornings. I focused.

It’s amazing what focus can do. I am ending this year with only one “one-time” debt left. I have paid off my car. I have kicked the payday advance cycle. I have a most of It Takes One to Know One written and revised. I’ve nearly finished pre-marital counseling. I was accepted into the college I wanted to go to and am registering for a class or two. I have made many of the decisions that I wanted to make this year, and I even managed to pay more attention to my hair!

Yet, in all that I have focused on, I still didn’t do much with me. Yesterday, as I sat getting my first deluxe french pedicure and gel french manicure, as well as lip, chin, and eyebrow waxing, it startled me that I couldn’t remember the last manicure, pedicure or waxing I had gotten. When I tested out a clarisonic at the mall last week, I couldn’t believe how long it had been since I’d worn a face mask or really deep cleaned my skin. As I went through tops and bottoms for the first time in ages at the store, I realized I no longer had any idea what flattered my body shape or what colors looked best on me. I hadn’t bought anything from Bath & Body Works in at least two years. Other than going for walks and doing a basic wash, press, and curl, I hadn’t done any exterior work on me all year. Not. Good.

Thanks to my focus this year, I am in a much better financial position for 2013 than I ever would have imagined was possible. I will actually be able to afford having my hair done, getting a pedicure, or buying new clothes/shoes when I need to. I can see if getting a facial a couple times a year may help maintain glowing skin. I can get a clarisonic and great skincare products. I can get a membership to the new cycling/yoga studio when it opens. I can do things for me without robbing Peter to pay Paul. When I’m not worrying about being able to put gas in my car or making pay stretch to the next week, I can work on developing a stronger prayer and devotional life. I can study for class. I can breathe.

So maybe 2012’s word should be positioning. With all of the hard work I’ve put in this year, I’ve positioned myself to be able to actually accomplish some goals next year that I’ve been striving to reach for a long time. I’m ready to find an editor and get published. I’m ready to see what the best Erica looks like. I’m ready to grow from a job to a stable career. I’m ready for potential to and preparation to meet opportunity. I’m in a position where I can meet an opportunity head on. I couldn’t say that last year.

With all of these exciting developments, what is the word for next year? What are the  goals? And what happened with the real decision 2012? That’s for the next post.

Your two cents: How did 2012 turn out for you? Did it go as you imagined it would go?



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The Fairytale

This year has been a rough one for me, challenging all of these long-held notions I’ve had about what I’ve wanted from my life, notions I didn’t even know I held on to so tightly. As silly as it sounds, I’ve always thought that making the second most important decision of your life would be like the Covergirl slog–easy, breezy, beautiful. I’ve heard so many of the stories about people “just knowing,” seen so many happy endings to the most improbable stories, that I just assumed that in a relationship that moved along so smoothly deciding on forever would be as uneventful as the summer rainstorms at three each afternoon here.

Needless to say that my notions of fairytale love have taken quite the beating this year. For one thing, going to all of the marriage and family workshops and pre-marital counseling sessions have shown me that marriage is hard work in a way that just thinking about the prospect has not. The major thing that all of my visions of how I would come to be married (on the remote chance that I ever WOULD get married) missed was that there would be this other person who would have to be equally as sure, equally as committed. Seeing the other person struggle to make a decision on you forever is surreal. It’s like having a magician systematically reveal the secrets to all of the tricks that left you in wonder. It takes the bloom off the rose. I keep thinking, “it really shouldn’t be this hard, should it? Either you do or you don’t, you will or you won’t.” There doesn’t appear to be any room for surprise or romance left. There’s not likely to be any “it’s always been you” moment in which the hero finally confesses he’s loved the heroine from the first and always knew it would be her, mainly because from the outside looking in, it doesn’t look like it’s “always been” anything.

I hate unromantic proposals in everything but a Harlequin. A Harlequin is just a book, a marriage of convenience just a way to keep these two idiots together long enough for them to figure out what we’ve figured out be page twenty; they were meant to be together. When I watched Love & Hip Hop Atlanta’s reunion show and saw Lil’ Scrappy propose to Erica, when I saw Jim Jones finally propose to Chrissy on Love and Hip Hop, when I hear about any lackluster proposal, it deflates me. I don’t know, maybe I want to much, but I want a guy that’s happy and excited and can’t wait to put a ring on it. I want a guy who only waits to put a ring on it as long as it takes him to be sure and to plan a proposal just for me. When I shop, I want to make comparisons and deliberate. I may leave the store without buying anything so I can go home and think about it some more to see if I still want it. But that purse I carried around on my arm like it was already mine isn’t going to feel led on if I don’t end up buying it, you know? *Sigh* I stopped making sense two paragraphs ago, didn’t I?

I went to New Orleans Thursday night. We stayed until midmorning Monday. I bet I don’t have to tell you all the number one question I was asked both before and after my trip. Was he going to propose? Did he propose? Even Pink Susie, who told me I needed to move on, asked. Even my boss asked. Seriously. No one had anything else to talk about except beignets and Hurricane Katrina when it came to my trip. I went on my trip trying not to let any of the proposal hype get to me, and I managed to have a pretty good time. I love New Orleans–the music, the art, the food, the people. I liked getting up and going for beignets in the morning, loved walking around the French Quarter for hours. I fell in love with jazz music all over again and missed my stepdad so much my heart hurt. It felt fantastic to get away for a few days and decompress a bit, stretch out and breathe. Would it satisfy my romantic side to have had a nighttime proposal in the French Quarter with a street musician on saxophone playing for his life and an artist immortalizing the moment on canvas, MensHealth on one knee in the dirty narrow street? Sure. Did I think it was going to happen? No. What I envision is something much more prosaic. I imagine that if MensHealth does decide he wants to marry me, we will sit down and discuss it rationally. Since he has said he would “state his intentions” but wouldn’t realistically be ready to propose (as in has a ring) until March or April, I am not imagining frills or poetry. But I like frills. I love poetry. A saxophone solo or hidden photographer would make my life. But I won’t have that.

This has been a tough year on my notions of love and my vision of how love should happen. I feel more like I’m negotiating during a lock out some days than I do like I’m on the brink of making a forever commitment to love. It’s hard to accept that MensHealth just might not be ready, but that’s easier than trying to convince myself I can wait a while longer. My counselor asked me about my decision and having a hard deadline, and my answer to her is still valid. I need a resolution like Aaliyah. I need to move forward or move on. I can’t even write in a straight line about this anymore. It’s all a big loopty-loop. January 1st, broken heart or not, I’ll be able to breathe, to just…breathe.



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Thanks for Giving (Unsolicited Advice)!

Y’all…can I just be really frank about something? Every year, I dread Thanksgiving. It’s not that I have anything against a holiday which only exists as an excuse for me to stuff my face; in fact, I am thankful for such opportunities. Any excuse to throw down in the kitchen always gets my vote. It’s just that every year, something happens that’s worthy of having “-gate” behind it. Like “White Wedding-gate” last year, in which one of my aunts wanted to discuss whether or not I was sexually active across the Thanksgiving turkey. I’m not making that up even a little bit. So you can imagine my trepidation at going to yet another family gathering for Thanksgiving. I don’t mean the good ones with my mom and immediate family where we eat and laugh and joke, the obligatory showing out of someone happens and we all take it in stride, but the awkward silence, full of moments I’d rather forget, extended family ones.

I was happy, then, to spend Thanksgiving this year at my apartment alone, catching up on my spring cleaning. I trudged load after load of clothes to the laundry facility, which I had all to myself, and moved around my furniture until I was satisfied with the way the apartment was coming together. I went out and bought a massive amount of groceries and had a simple dinner before my TV. It was great. But it was missing that certain Thanksgiving something. It didn’t have any macaroni and cheese, collard greens, turkey, or sweet potato pie (OK, so there was a store bought pie, but that’s nowhere near the same). As much as my family gets on my nerves, I kind of missed them.

However, it didn’t make much sense to go all the way to my aunt’s house for less than a full day. I had to work on Friday, and I was going to a football game on Saturday at noon. My aunt called and told me to miss the game, but I won the tickets from work. Someone else who wanted to go wasn’t able to because I’d won and they didn’t; it didn’t seem right to waste them. Besides, I wanted to go. So I made a compromise: I would come down Saturday after the game and leave after dinner on Sunday. This is when I should have slapped myself in the face.

Why did I think this year would be any different? Because I’ve been taking charge of my health? Because I’m on track to pay off my car this year? Because I’ve put a lot of energy and effort into my relationship? Because I’ve decided what the next steps are along my career path? What was I thinking about, thinking these things would matter to anyone but me? My aunt wasted no time disabusing me of the notion that any of this meant anything.

In the space of less than two days, I was told:

  •  I need to relocate in order to take over her business when she retires. I will be given a salary of $48,000, or $25/hour. She retires in two years.
  • MensHealth isn’t going to marry me and I need to move on and start seriously thinking about my future.
  • I need to do a better job of managing my money so I can join them on a cruise next year.
  • My stomach is hanging; I should do something about this ASAP.
  • I won’t get ahead professionally because I don’t do my hair (at least not the way she would like me to keep it done).
  • I could go on, but I think you get the picture.

In short, it was an even more brutal trip than usual, covering a lot more ground and a lot more to the point. I didn’t bother to correct any of these assertions because it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Either things will happen as she thinks they will or how I think they will. I didn’t tell her about my decision that before the new year a decision will be made on my relationship with MensHealth, nor did I share that we’ve started pre-marital counseling. I didn’t tell her that I will have paid all of my one time bills, my car, and be all caught up on my bills by the beginning of next year. I didn’t tell her I have no intention, MensHealth and current job or no, to ever move back to that city and I have no desire to work in the group home business, that running a business like that is her dream and not mine, because I realized as she was talking that all of this was not about me, but about her. It makes life easier for her to think of me taking over her business and living closer, of me still needing her advice on how to order my entire life. It makes sense for her to take these positions because they give her a basis from which to order my life in a way that benefits her a lot more than me.

I’m not saying that to say my aunt doesn’t care about me, but let’s look at things realistically: what man am I meeting in her small town? I’m not meeting any. I lived there, so I know. I don’t want to work in a group home or live in this town, so who would that make happy? Certainly not me. I want to pursue getting some certifications in the legal field and to continue writing. One of very few ABA certified programs is down the street from me, and my current job is willing to help me pay for the classes. Why would I give that up for a job a don’t want? I’m sure my aunt loves me and wants what she thinks is best for me, but it’s not what I want for myself at all.

I can’t tell y’all how big of a relief it was to walk into my still-needs-work apartment, turn on Cold Case Files, and eat a piece of well-earned homemade sweet potato pie. As I sat thinking of all the usual things I think about at times like these (why did I even go? What was I thinking? Why didn’t I say…?), I realized something. Being grateful doesn’t make me indebted. When I didn’t have a real plan for how I would be able to finish school with little support and no job, she helped me. I’m so grateful for that. I worked for her for a year full time, and during my last year of school on holidays. I continued to do her paperwork for another year. I have done all I can to show I’m appreciative of what she did for me; I don’t have to feel bad that I am not going to do everything that she thinks I should do with my life.

Another thing I realized is that listening to your elders and respecting their opinions doesn’t mean that you have to take all of their advice. I am a major proponent of seeking the wise counsel of elders when making major life decisions. I respect the fact that outsiders can see things in a relationship that the person in the relationship may not necessarily see. But we are to have discernment, and everyone’s counsel should be measured against God’s word and confirmed; no word should stand all on its own but God’s word. I love my aunt, but at the end of the day, I have to live with the decisions I make.

Family. Gotta love it.

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Wedding Watch

I saw a wedding last Saturday while out with MensHealth. Since our pre-marital counseling session was cancelled, we went on a search to find our favorite local park. We can never find the stupid place on the first try, but it’s such a beautiful park, so tranquil. When we finally found it, my favorite area to visit was reserved for a wedding and a few people were milling around. I was less concerned with the wedding than I was with the fact I couldn’t go into the area.

After not being able to visit another favorite spot, where a family photo shoot was going on, we ventured back towards the first area. “Oh, look, the bridesmaids are walking up,” I said as we were passing by. We stand and watch a moment as the bridesmaids give way to the bride and her parents. We watch as the minister leads them in a word of prayer before moving on. The gathering looked to be no more than 20-30 people, standing on the steps in a public park. There were no additional decorations that nature didn’t provide. The whole thing probably took 15-20 minutes. They were there longer taking pictures than they were for the wedding.

We stopped again after making a few circuits of the park and sat on a bench not to far away. We discussed wedding pictures and watched babies toddling around the open space before being scooped up for group pictures. As we leave, MensHealth says “I think that’s why I don’t like watching all those wedding shows. They make it seem like you need all these things.”

He’s right; they do make you feel like a public park with 30 of your closest family members and friends for less than an hour just isn’t enough. I don’t know anything about the couple we saw get married that day. I don’t know why they chose to get married there. I know many people who go to court houses across the land and country on a Monday or Tuesday to get married, as well as those who plan for nearly two years. I wouldn’t presume to say that either of these options is any better than the other, but it does make you think.

I suppose that for some people, as long as you’re married at the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter. For me, I have a close knit family, both natural and spiritual, who I want their to witness my vows and continue to support us and our relationship long after. I want to be married by a minister who knows us and who has some wisdom to impart to us. I want to celebrate with those who have prayed for us and our relationship and who will continue to do so. It’s all in what’s important to you.

As much as I try not to be influenced by trends, wedding shows, wedding blogs, and my friends’ weddings, I know that there  are other things I can add to the above which will not add to my married life at all: Pomanders, personalized cocktail napkins, aisle runners, head table banners, and dance floor decals, a photo booth, chiavari chairs, chandeliers, candelabras, flowers, a Maggie Sottero gown (the MonaLissa Royale is a front runner in 2blu’s fantasy wedding), and the most perfect location I’ve ever seen (I would tell you where, but I can’t part with it; if I can’t have it, neither can you).

A friend of mine just got married this week and is happily making her first Thanksgiving meal as a married woman. I don’t know anything about her nuptials. I saw a picture on Facebook and MensHealth got a text from her husband to let him know they had gotten married. As far as I know, there wasn’t any pomp and circumstance at all, yet today, she is trimming a turkey as a Mrs. Maybe the woman in the park is doing the same thing. That’s the point of all of this, right? To be married? But what do you “need” to accomplish that?

No, really. That’s a real question. What do you “need” to get married?

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