The first year of a relationship, you count in months. Each month bringing a new reason to celebrate. But after that, you count in years. Which essentially means about 12 less reasons to go out for ribeye and see that chick flick you’ve been begging your man to go see with you. (I’m still bitter about not seeing Dear John.) We haven’t counted in months for a while, but since we’ve gotten married, we’re back to it! As of yesterday, Dylan and I have been wed for 3 months, which doesn’t sound like a lot until you consider I’ve seen him 93 days in a ROW at this point. And I still totally love him after all this time. :)
Speaking of our wedding, I’m planning on blogging some images created by our wonderful photogs Mabyn Ludke and Tim Hunt this Thursday. A little late on my part, I know. But trust me, they are BOMB. Stay tuned!
So with the realization that I need more health (and fun) in my life, I’m looking into taking a Zumba class. Everyday, when Dylan and I go to the gym, we can’t help but peer into that window-encased room full of people in bright pink shorts flailing their arms around. And yes, laugh. The best part is seeing the handful of completely uncoordinated middle-aged men in the back row who you know are just there for the girls. Even so, I think I am willing to look ridiculous if I can have fun being healthy. What is YOUR experience with Zumba?
FYI: I am addicted to Clorox Disinfectant Wipes. Is there such a thing as disinfecting too much? (Yes, I disinfected the floors late last night for no real reason other than to feel good and matronly about myself.)
I had a conversation with someone recently that went something like this: “How long does it take to write Tidbit Tuesday?” “Oh, I work on it for a few hours on end on Mondays, sometimes on Tuesday mornings. And then after it’s published, I usually develop my regular complex of ‘Why am I so quirky? The whole Inter-webs must think I’m a loon. Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I guess I’ll go eat worms.'” But as I was reading through some old blog entries last week, I realized how thankful I am to have an online diary of sorts, that can always remind me of the adventure life truly is. Not to mention my fear of Chipotle, walking into hotel rooms that aren’t mine, or documenting the crazy things I say in my sleep.
The other day, a lady in Randalls asked me if she could stick my shirt tag back in. Only in Texas, where everything with a heartbeat is most polite creature you’ve ever seen. Thank you, tag-lady!
Song of the week: Listen by Amos Lee. You know how any given song can take you back to a specific time in your life? Well, while Temperature by Sean Paul (shamefully) used to be my jam in high school, and Fergalicious takes me back to roadtripping with my best friend, just about anything by Amos Lee takes me back to falling in love with Dylan. Because straight up, Dylan has some pretty tight taste in music. One of the many reasons I married him.
I leave you with a whole lotta’ handsome from 93 days ago! ;)
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Happy Tuesday! :)
Breezy - Your post, gave me flashback to our road trip to Cape Cod! Driving by that gym on the way to the beach and EVERYTIME signing “up in the gym just working on my fitness.” :) Love you Boo, and miss you like crazy!!
Jessica Z - I have not gone a day without Clorox Disinfectant Whips since that one night sophomore year when I used them all and had to wait until the next day to drive to Price Chopper to get more. That was a sad (and rather germy) night.