On proposals and Presidents - welcome to November!

Two years ago today I got engaged on a chilly Greenville evening that, in my mind, has extended to be at least two weeks long. Part of I remember very hazily, almost as an observer, and the other part is clearer than any other night of my life.

I had been complaining for hours of my utter exhuastion, wanting nothing more than a good night's sleep followed by a fabulous weekend with my visiting boyfriend. Shortly after receiving a diamond ring and a remarkable lifetime offer from a certain someone, however, I got what you could call a second wind.

The result? That sleep-deprived gal somehow managed to call most everyone in her phone book, staying awake 'til 2 am recounting the engagement story detail for detail. I'm sure I called each of them back the very next morning, at Bradley's urging, to go through it just once more. (A guy really only gets the proposal as his very own shining achievement...why not let him milk it? B must have heard my telling of the tale at least a hundred times that weekend.)

Two years and 470 days* of marriage later, I'm amazed at how much has changed since then and how quickly it's all gone by. We're having so much fun and I'm still pinching myself - and staring shamelessly at the ring.

In a very tenuous segway, something that hasn't seemed to go by quickly has been the road to the White House.

Tomorrow I'll cast my third presidential vote. Long lines and mud-slinging aside, I find the whole process so exciting. And so much like Christmas - I just want to know now!

Hope you're planning to vote as well. For my Palmetto state neighbors, check your precinct and registration at SCVotes.org.

Happy voting and happy Monday!

*Don't worry, I didn't calculate that by myself. The Knot takes care of that for me. I've got free time, but not that much.

Costume Crisis

So I read on a few blogs that anyone dressed as Sarah Palin this Halloween would be considered an uncreative, behind-the-times idiot who would be widely mocked. I suppose the concept isn't as original as I first thought - back when she was named the VP nominee. But I've got the bangs, the haircolor, the suit, and glasses a-plenty. I just needed a baby doll and an American flag pin and I'd be good to go.

Once Bradley shied away from morphing into McCain, however, my idea ran into a giant roadblock. Since he was also opposed to being Juno and her boyfriend (Michael Cera) from the movie of the same named, I was stumped. Wouldn't he have looked adorable in running shorts? (This is where he demurred...) I love the wrapped-up skirt over pants attire, along with the baby bump. Think of all the cocktails and hors d'oeuvres I could sneak in there with no one ever becoming the wiser.


Alas, here we are. Less than an hour away from our first Halloween party of the year and I'm (relatively) costume-less. Bradley bought me a "Rehab" (a.k.a. Amy Winehouse) wig and some size small fake angel tattoo arm sleeves. Apparently my (relatively) small arms are actually size medium. Much to my disappointment - and discomfort.



So I'm currently sporting a sheerish black turtleneck over tight dark jeans with bright blue heels, a giant Amy wig and a pink ribbon belt with chiffon rosette. Under the sheerish turtleneck, rather than my typical black cami, I am sporting a Halloween orange underthing. (That'd be from you, K.Dub.) You can't even see a hint of it, so my one attempt at skankiness is for naught.

Don't worry, that last J. Crew accessory will come off. But, seriously, how different could my wardrobe and Amy Winehouse's be?

Let's list the ensembles I've tried to convince myself look Winehouse-esque this evening:

-black H&M halter dress from my summer in Paris (too cocktail-appropriate and too cold)
-white t-shirt with black bra (also too cold)
-black three-quarter sleeved jacket (too prim)
-previously mentioned pink ribbon belt (please)

I mean, I'm out of options. B was sweet to get me a wig so I'd have any choices at all. But who were we kidding that in my closet I'd have anything but a wife-beater to pull this off....

Must go apply twenty pounds of eyeliner. Love to you all! And if you think of something for B to be besides my coked-out boyfriend and/or tatted up security guard, do yell. We're off to the store to grab man-sized tat sleeves for him.

If only Blue were a pit bull we could bring him along in our entourage....

xo,
A.
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