I think you all know what that second “F” stands for.
Scene: Me, Rhonda (my trusty Civic), the Mass Pike, about 12:15pm.
We’re cruising along, I’m blasting my country music (yes, love. you’ll hear much more about this in future posts). The sun’s out, I’m heading off to the folks’ for the weekend, not a care in the world (well, except making my 3pm dress fitting appointment).
I wanna live where the green grass grows, watch my corn pop up in rows (I tried to warn you!)…
I think you know where I’m going with this, yes?
Dead stop. AKA, a parking lot. Granted it’s Friday. In New England, we’re heading towards the height of tourist season. But NOON? Was Bon Jovi giving a free concert on the highway? Had fall arrived without me knowing? The leafs turning 8 shades of red, yellow, orange, a brisk chill in the air?
No, nothing quite as exciting as autumn arriving or a free highway concert (hey, it could happen).
Fucking construction. And the kicker? No one was even there! Not one single, solitary, butt-crack-showing, beer-gut-jiggling, chain-smoking worker. Not one machine was in use, not one lane merge to be had.
So what, pray tell, were all these damn people looking at? MOOOOOOVE, people.
Anyway. I did make it home, with time to spare, for my dress fitting. (You didn’t think I’d get through this entire post without mentioning it once, did you? HA!) I’d show you pictures, but not until after the wedding. Once I’ve been properly airbrushed.
Oh, all right, here’s a picture of what our flowers will resemble. I LOVE my florist. She’s amazing. And I can not WAIT for her to blow my mind on the wedding day.
LOVE.
