Confessions of an Amateur ... Fiance?

Yes, that's right, bloggerverse. I am, in fact, nobody's wife ... yet. But if all goes as planned (read: my main hangout guy/fiance, Mr. A doesn't hit the ground running) then this blog will be legit in 27 days (wish someone had told me not to sign up for the Knot e-mail updates...) I feel the faint tingling of a hive breakout when I think that, not because I'm nervous about marriage but because I hope it all comes together!

But regardless to if we have too many people to fit in the rehearsal dinner venue (my latest nightmare subject) or if it rains and we have to move our cute little garden wedding inside the beautiful historic home on the property (which would completely ruin the color scheme), I will be Mrs. A on August 14, making our new little labrahound a legitimate boy!

Meet the (not much longer) little guy:

Sawyer, pound hound extraordinaire.

Mr. A and I do live together already though, in this cute little number: (it was the windows on just one side that originally caught our interest, and luckily our painter failed at matching the beige paint colors already inside and did the walls a yellow color, so it's bright inside regardless!)

We just moved in in May, after living apart for a long, long year, but more on the house and our year apart later. It's an unpacking work in progress. The smallest three-story house ever.

A little about us:

My main hangout guy and I met on Facebook before it was creepy, I swear (remember when just college kids could have Facebook?) Being the crazy eighteen year old that I was, on the brink of freshman year, I started adding people who had the same interests in music, etc. and one, the alphabetically superior Mr. AA (no, not that AA...) popped up at the top of my list every time, so I added him, we exchanged messages and then ceased any conversation until day one of my freshman year. On the way to my first class, with my bff Willow, we spotted him, affectionately known by the student body as "Nurse A," at the time, djing a remote for the student radio station outside of the Union. The romantic exchange went like this:

Me: "Are you Andrew?"
Nurse A: "Yes, who are you?"

Hold on tight, because it only got more fairytale-esque from there. After I made a point to walk by Nurse A about six times in one day (and call my mom to declare "I'm in love!"), I got this carefully crafted Facebook message and fell head over heels in love with this modern-day Romeo.

In case you can't read that, here are the highlights: "well, looks like we finally met by accident. your cuter in person. so how was your first day of class? well ill holla at you later."

Luckily, Nurse A turned out to be much nicer and better at his compliments in person and a much better speller than illustrated in that message (a good thing, since we're both writer/editors). So, after four years of dating, he proposed on October 30, 2009 and obviously I was thrilled and accepted. Our sweet puglet, Winston, acted as the engagement pug. He had some major health problems at the young age of two, and we've since lost him, but he will always be our love pug.

See the ring around his collar? What a sweet boy he was! We miss him everyday.

The bling.

So there you have it, a quick intro about the famiroo (as Sawyer, who apparently talks in a Scooby Doo voice pronounces it.) Oh, and also I suck at being domestic which is what this blog will mostly be about.

Well, see ya. Nurse A just pulled some enchiladas out of the oven (I helped make them, I swear, I just don't like to touch hot things in the oven so he took them out.)

peace.