I know I’ve used this metaphor before, but right now my life is a blender. I haven’t been posting as much as I would like because doing so is quite intimidating. It’d be like trying to describe how to make a margarita when the person doesn’t know what ice is, let alone tequila. So, here’s a stab.
I’m engaged to be married. I popped the question in Oregon, hence my absence, the mystery, the early planning, and my bitterness towards those that thought they might have had the slightest idea of what I was actually thinking and feeling. I was keeping it on the down low, until I told my mom and godmother in person, as there are those that read this that don’t necessarily exercise tact. Oh, and she did say yes, in case you were wondering.
Pre-pre-pre-planning for the wedding. I knew there were decisions to be made, but Jesus tapdancing Christ. We went over the list of people in my family, and Milca was starting to wonder if I was just making up names at one point. “How many Roberts are there? There should be 2.” “Did I get all three Aunt Karens?”
Location? Date? Meal? Apart from the fact that we know that there will be all of these things, we don’t know what/where/when. Things we do know:
We want an outdoor ceremony
We are planning on moving to Oregon as soon as possible.
Getting into the university there is secondary to moving there, as they, too, have community colleges.
The meal will be prepared by our friend Jared, who is a culinary student, and his catering business as a wedding gift. I’m assuming we’ll pay for the food, which is totally cool, but the other services will be covered.
The guest list will be limited to family and a select group of friends. I’m going to try hard not to snub anybody, but I have a huge family, and we can only provide for so many.
My brother Corey will be the best man.
Other details, like the particulars of the ceremony, who will be marrying us, etc., will be made known as we decide on them.
All of the above would be the ice in my margarita. See what I mean? More on the tequila later.