Just One, More to Come

102 bobby pins, two rubber bands, and 13 hair pins holding fake pearls into my hair. It took me a good 45 minutes last night to hunt them out of the pretty knot of hair that the stylist made for me. The not-so-romantic side of the wedding night.

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We woke up early this morning (hooray for NOT getting drunk at our own wedding), and while Shaun ran a few errands, I made this pretty little picture out of the shrapnel I pulled out of my hair at the end of last night.

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My scalp still hurts.

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More later, including (hopefully) more pictures.

Wasn't There Something I'm Supposed to be Doing This Weekend?

Oh, right. Wedding.

Kinda snuck right up on me, but I think we're ready. Not that I haven't dragged my feet the whole time, but various "helpers" kept me in line.

"I've got 18 sticks of dynamite and I'm gonna blow up the cul de sac"

Sara's moving tip #1: It's good to get to know your new neighbors.

Specifically, it's good to get to know which of your neighbors are insane drunks.

He didn't blow anything up, as far as we could tell. The other (un-insane and no more drunk than I was) neighbors set off some doozies, but Dynamite Man was all talk, as far as we could tell.