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:
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.