November 2nd

On this day eight years ago I got married. With no money to put in the meter, it's no wonder the damn thing expired.

It was a chilly Saturday mid-morning--sunny, a few leaves left on trees.
I remember doing most of the planning myself and the fits my mother gave me over spending, not feeling involved, and of course, having the wedding over an hour from the familiar comforts of Carmel made me even more determined to go at it alone. Yecch. Some things never change---she majored in guilt; minored in passive-aggression.

What she failed to realize (and still does) was that after being forced into an early wedding date and with less than three months to plan the whole f-ing affair, I didn't have the time or desire to include her in any of the decisions. I guess that's what comes with being the first of three girls to prematurely buy a house and happily live in sin and finally marry.

I just wanted to buy a house. I was looking for a fun roommate who would shoulder the work and pay half his/her share of the costs.
and eight years later I am stuck with a money pit, mortgage and more debt than I ever thought possible.

happy anniversary baby. Oh, and no need for flowers.....I picked my own.