Like the Boy Scouts say, be prepared.

One math class short of a football scholarship, a brain tumor away from the network news, and one good night's sleep shy of getting the one more sale that earns you the bonus, and therefore, the Mustang. Have lots of dreams, so that when one falls through the net, you still have something to build toward and you're not left holding an empty hope. And always, always act like you can handle things and are perfectly happy until you can handle things and you're perfectly happy.

So I agree to walk out into the water. And on the way back in, oof! A giant wave takes me down. I tried to get up and continue on. Oof! Another wave knocks me to my knees! And everybody else is like, "What? Get up."

So we had a lot of fun and sunburn, and on the way back to San Antonio, my left front tire lost its tread and took off a section of fiberglass (?) on the side of the vehicle as it flew off. Thank you, God, for Erik. He changed that tire, with semis whipping past, and we limped back into San Antonio. He put the masticated piece of rubber from the trunk into a shopping cart, wheels it into the Walmart garage and asks, "Hey, can ya patch this?"

Of course, I could have and would have done it, had I gone on that trip to Lisa's 30th birthday bash on the beach alone, but I'm so glad I didn't have to...

a crazy bride. But the Wedding Industry is designed to drive women to the very brink, whilst we plot and plan to the very last detail our perfect, crystalline, sparkling, Most Important Day of Our Lives. We went to a Bridal Expo yesterday. What a hoot that was. I want to hide my head beneath the covers for a few months, then let my mom do it all for me. Mom? Wanna make all the phone calls and reservations? Please? I'm tired of trying to call people. At least for this month.
The chapel was easy enough. They have the supernifty sabres if we want to use them, and apparently it's standard for Dad to give me away in uniform. Mom, I know I already gave you assignments, but maybe you could call the Officers' Club for me? Huh? Huh?

When I was little, and Crystal and I would disagree about anything, one or both of us would say, "Let's talk about dresses." And life was good again. Tomorrow, I'm bridesmaid dress shopping. Put in your requests. Shawna said nothing strapless. Kristen said no taffeta that looks like it's throwing up on itself. Anyone? Anyone?

We weren't scuba diving or skydiving, but last night, in a horse-drawn carriage in downtown San Antonio at sunset, he asked... and I think my answer was something like, "Well, tsk, of COURSE!!"

I've packed my desk into a box. I'm going to enjoy a four-day weekend, see some fireworks, maybe float down a river, feed some ducks, and attend a luau Monday to celebrate a new promotion, and unpack this big box. Parte`.

...a fun job to return to Monday mornings
...understanding parents
...exciting plans
...new apartment managers
...Christmas