And we plod along in our doofy way. We've successfully moved into the much larger new apartment. We're nowhere near finished unpacking - we actually can't finish unpacking until we buy some new furniture. Two whole rooms of the new place remain unfurnished! It's kind of ridiculous. And then there's the issue of my studio, which I can't even begin to contemplate. Blegh.
Last weekend was our anniversary. At which point I thought I was going to get my ring back... and didn't. Honestly, we're just terrible at this. It was a mess of miscommunication. It seems like if I don't tell him exactly how and what and where, he's paralyzed. But if I do, it's miserable for him and then for both of us. So then what? But I'm so bad at waiting.
So you wanna hear the really funny part? Of course you do. We're talking about a wedding again. And we're talking about having it in New Orleans. A-yup. It's actually the most practical plan we've come up with yet. And I don't mean we're talking about it as in I'm trying to convince him; I mean he really thinks it's a good idea!
It would be a simple, day-long affair: late morning ceremony in the park, involving about ten people (us, the parents, the witnesses, my sister, possibly an officiant if we can't get my sis registered); then brunch/lunch with the same ten people. Then, in the evening after resting, a party for a larger audience - extended family and a larger group of friends.
And I'm really excited about it. I'm scared to be excited about it, of course. (The word would actually be terrified.) It will have to be solidly the plan for at least a month or two before I believe it's really happening, and even then I'll be skeptical. How could I not be, at this point? This is plan three. Maybe third time's the charm?