Four Months Already?

It's not technically any sort of anniversary of our wedding today.

We were married on June 12, 2010.

It just happens to be today that I find it hard to believe that it's already been more than four months since Trey and I tied the knot.

This weekend my mom asked me, as she looked for the first time at our framed wedding pictures hung around our apartment, "Jess, looking back now, what would you have changed about the wedding if you could do it over?"

First of all, Mom, I replied, I won't be doing it over. Too much pre-wedding stress, anxiety, and planning craziness...plus, I happen to like the guy I ended up with as my "husby."

But truly, even if I reeeeallly think about it, I wouldn't change a thing. Not even the fact that our limo was too small--it led to great wedding party bonding. Or even that we didn't know we were supposed to provide our own champagne for the post-ceremony ride to the reception--we wouldn't have had the great impromptu photo shoot at The Little Wine Shoppe in Saint Anthony Village.

I'm happy to say, I couldn't have been a happier bride. And my mom agreed, noting the "Cheshire cat grin" I wore all day and into the night.

I'll close this post with my favorite (well, one of) wedding day memory: The Bagel Shop Good Samaritan Incident...

We had just gotten our hair done at Salon George, and my bridesmaids, mothers, and I were loading up on carbs at Brueggers Bagel Bakery before heading to the ceremony site. I was adorned in my wedding day getting-ready outfit which, since leaving the salon, was topped off by my homemade veil. Apparently my look screamed "bride"...and maybe even "frugal bride."

As I chomped my bagel sandwich, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to find a gentleman standing behind me. The man smiled and said, "Unfortunately I won't be able to make it to your dollar dance tonight, but I want you to have this..." And he pressed something into my hand. I looked down to find a hundred dollar bill. "Shut up!" I shouted at him as I slugged him on the arm in a Elaine-from-Seinfeld-esque move. And before I could properly thank him, he disappeared. I turned to my posse and showed them the bill. They were as amazed as I was. "Who was he?" my mom asked. "No idea," I replied. My mom went on to exclaim how rude I had been and how confused that man must have been that I said "shut up" instead of "thank you." Maybe it did confuse him. But I feel justified each time I tell this story and the listener responds by slugging me and exclaiming, "Shut up!"