Imagine our surprise when we finally arrived at that exact bit of Polk Street, only to look down and see the following phrase etched into the concrete:
"Love is the way."
It's enough to make you gag.
But I'd be lying if I didn't admit it also gave me a few goosebumps. Total coincidence, I promise, and something neither one of us noticed until we went back today.
Does this mean our marriage is uncommonly blessed?
On a related note, I can boast with great pride that never once in the last 7 days has either of us uttered the phrase "popped the question." (shudder)
I am in wedding planning hell. As in, hell if I'm going to do any of it. I bought a few bridal magazines, but mostly they make me want to puke. All that white chiffon and ridiculous coifs. I'm wearing red, leaving my hair down like it always is, and if we do music it'll be a string quartet to start the show and and my iPod for everything else. If you know of any good Bay Area wedding planners, recommendations are welcome. So are caterers -- I care most about the food.
In astounding news, last week Jeff took his first plane trip since the accident that DID NOT GIVE HIM MIGRAINES! It's probably a tad too soon to say that for sure, seeing as he only got back yesterday and often the 2 weeks following a plane ride are doomed to pain and torture, but he escaped 4 days of the trip plus nearly a day home unscathed. Which begs the question -- could we elope after all?
I think we found The Ring. I'm keeping my hands maniacally manicured until we buy it just in case I see another one worth trying on. As a former nail biter (I would still happily nibble away but acrylic makes it hard), I am always sure everyone's staring at my hands. Now they really are.