a third anniversary
May 14th is a bad day for food.
On May 14, 2010, James proposed after a meal at Carrabba's that was so stunningly terrible, neither of us could eat more than a few bites of our dinner.
If you've read our reception saga then you know this, but on May 14, 2011, we showed up at our reception to find that not only did the caterer decide to not show up, but she decided the carving station and pasta station we had agreed on and paid for weren't necessary, so we were short an extreme amount of food. By the time James and I arrived, most of the food was gone, and I was left with two spoonfuls of crab dip. I was the bride who actually wanted to eat on her wedding day.
Today, May 14th, 2014, we had a potluck at work. Lots of people signed up for some good stuff, but about 4 people ended up participating....AND THEY ALL BROUGHT SAUSAGE. There was even a George Forman grill on someone's desk so he could grill them on demand. I'm what you would call a recovering vegetarian; I'm starting to eat a little chicken, but I haven't hit the hard stuff yet. Even when I ate tons of meat, sausage made me want to vomit. I hate it. And Ohioans love their freaking sausage.
Today had a lot of other similarities with our wedding day. Both days progressed in a similar fashion. I woke up excited and happy, but the day was a giant downward spiral. Yes, that's right, aside from the getting married part, my wedding day was not "omg perfect best day ever."
3 years ago we had our first (and only, thanks fake DJ) dance to Frank Sinatra. Today that song came on as I was driving to work.
3 years ago our caterer was supposed to pack us a fancy picnic to take with us after the reception in case we got hungry later, but she never did, so we had a late night snack from Wendy's. Today we were supposed to go to a swanky little joint for dinner tonight, but I had the most mind-blowingly bad day at work and needed to go home and curl into a ball, so we got take-out (Mellow Mushroom, so much better than Wendy's) instead and caught up on our PBS shows.
3 years ago the catering staff yelled at my family. Today I was yelled at by a mean girl at the gym who made me cry.
3 years ago there was a massive thunderstorm just as the reception started. Today the tornado sirens went off as soon as James left to run an errand after work.
3 years ago James bought me flowers when he heard I was given a bouquet of white roses instead of purple hydrogenous to cheer me up.
Today? Well, today he saw me noticing the bit of pudge around my stomach I didn't have when I wore my wedding dress, and he grabbed his own stomach and declared us "pudge buds." If that's not love, then I don't know what is.
He's now on the balcony with the weather radar, amateur meteorology skills, a compass app, and wind speed reports to determine what direction the tornado will be coming from when it kills us.
I just love him.
Oh, and he reports that the tornado will be coming from our southwest.