Be Prepared to Dance

Last night, Cameron and I watched The Office's long-anticipated episode--Jim and Pam finally got hitched. When I walked in the door this morning from kickboxing, my parents mentioned that they still hadn't seen it, and I told them they must! Immediately. Especially if we were going to be on speaking terms for much longer.

My dad said, "Oh, well I've heard that it has to do with that JK wedding video."

I was like... "The what?!?"

With gasps, they dragged me into the office, saying, "I can't believe you have seen this yet! It's the funniest thing ever!!"



While Mom and Dad were laughing the whole way through, I was moved. Touched. If you know me at all, you know I'm obsessed with weddings. I own dozens of wedding magazines, surf the net for locations, planners, designers, read blog after blog of wedding photography... I would venture to call myself a wedding connoisseur.

And as much as I love the weddings in magazines, the $30,000 to $100,000 extravaganza weekends that people plan, where every detail is in perfect place, every light hanging at just the right angle, every petal in the exact spot it was meant to be... those weddings are so impersonal. They're about outdoing the wedding that came before. They're not about the bride and groom; they're about being memorable, but for the wrong reasons.

If you come to my wedding, whenever it is, be prepared to dance. If you're walking down my aisle, be prepared to make a fool of yourself. If you come to my reception, be prepared to get your groove on. My wedding will not be traditional. It will not cost $40k, it will not be perfect, it will not outdo every wedding before it. It will, however, be memorable. It will be memorable because every minute detail will be infused with love, full of the personality of my husband-to-be and myself. The flowers might not be just right--and who's to say there will be any flowers at all?--the bridesmaids may not wear colours you approve of (though I assure you, they will be wearing clothing), and I'll probably go against a lot of hard-and-fast wedding rules. But if you let yourself, you'll have a lot of fun. We'll all have a lot of fun.

Just be prepared to dance.

On The Road

Indicators that you've been living out of your car for too long:

• Neither your deodorant, nor your toothbrush, have resided in your bathroom in two weeks. Sure, they make occasional guest appearances, but never move back to the shelf or the drawer; instead, they take up their places in the gym bag.
• To do laundry, you empty out your car.
  
• To find clean clothes, you go trunk diving.
• All five pairs of sunglasses you own live in your centre console... as well as your Blockbuster Online moves, backup wallet, and... just about everything else.
• Your parents send you emails asking how your life is going and what you've been up to lately.
• There's a stack of mail at least eight inches high waiting for you at home.
• Need to go to the gym? No problem. Everything's in the car. Teaching a circuit class? Oh, you've got your Action Kids gear there, too. Headed to the beach? There's a suit and towel in the trunk. Surprise date night? All you need to look cute can be found behind the passenger seat!
  
• The guitar you played two Fridays in a row is still in the back seat...
• You come home and there's a strange dog in your house... but you're not surprised. She could have been around for weeks, now.
• Your baby brother calls you from across the hall to say because he doesn't know you're home.
• All of the foods you like that are normally stockpiled in the fridge have either been eaten by someone else, or are expired.
  
• There are more options for perfume in your gym bag than in your bathroom.
• You've refilled your car stock of shampoo and conditioner (twice) since the last time you bought some for your house.
• Ants don't even bother invading your room anymore. Really, when was the last time you had water or food in there, anyway?
• When you open your closet, you find clothes you completely forgot you had.
• Your parents squint at you for a moment when you walk in the door... though it usually doesn't take longer than three or four seconds to recognise you.