I'd like to say "my husband"

So from my last post you know I am engaged but not married (no I still don't have a dress). A friend just posted a blog about her husband and I thought, isn't it cool that she called her husband just that, her husband. I want that. The husband. Not necessarily the pomp and circumstance but the final declaration of a husband. Not because it changes the relationship I enjoy with Kim, but because it validates it. It makes him be able to get my info from a surgeon cutting into me and for the state to let us inheret each others wealth without a fight. But mostly it just let's me say "my husband" without smirking that he really isn't but it's a likely story!

Maybe I'll just say my husband and mean it.

Because he is.

And hopefully I won't have to inheret and the surgeon will just assume he's my hubby.

...towering

Yesterday I met an amazing group of women. How or where is not important, but the fact that the entire collection was shorter than I am made me feel 5'7". Even in the sensible heels that can be walked in. Strong powerful women asking me to join their inner sanctum.

Once I realized I was the tallest woman there, then my short insecurities manifested as tall ones. Did my brain cells have to elongate because of my height, so much so that they are not concentrated enough to be as smart as these women? If I would have been shorter, say 4'11"-ish could I have been smart enough to be a doctor? Am I short enough to be with this amazing group.

And then a certain "I'm tall" smugness that is only seen in tall women started to hit me. Not completely though because it's also a coolness that comes with being incredibly gorgeous and well put together, but I was having a bit or wardrobe malfunction.

I paraded my height through the corridor of people looking up to me left and right, only to step onto the elevator into a sea of hipbones and tushes, my dream of 5'7"-dom shattered into reality.

*sigh*

But for a hour yesterday, I was there. And the air was sweet up there.

I don't see "barrell shape"

Getting married is the most ridiculous thing. Seriously, everything requires a decision I don't or can't make. When, where, why, how, yadda, yadda, yadda!!!!!! Which is more important, and what decision needs to occur first?

So, since I cannot decide on a date, perhaps if I decide on attire, then everything else will fall into place. Right? Argh!

Hunting through websites looking at dresses to perhaps spur some decision as to what else I want to decide on to actually get married. At least I know I want tea-length, dressy but not too dressy, some type of shoulder covering and white, ish. Or not.

So each website has a different search technique of varying levels of efficiency. And by efficiency I mean frustration. And once I find something that looks interesting, if I move away from it, it might never be found again! And therefore, I still have not found a dress. Probably because I am clueless as to what kind of wedding I am even going to have.

So now it's Kim's turn to plan the venue. And I will keep searching for attire for a possible wedding in the future.

And I cannot find "barrell" as a body style to search on.

i'd also like to say i am a blogger

I miss blogging. I gave it up. I still keep writing in my head, but not on cyber-paper. And there are so many things I find hilarious enough that it needs to be shared with the world. I just won't tell the world. Unless they stumble upon it, which is my test.

Silliness.

But explore I will and hopefully someone will laugh.