The 40licious Bride: Aftermath

It's hard to be whatever you'd call the modern equivalent of a fairy princess for six months -- building to the apex of fabulousness in which you wear the BEST DRESS you've ever had, partied with the BEST PEOPLE you know, and then linked up for life with the BEST LOVER you will ever meet -- and then plunk down back to earth.

Oh, of course there is still the residual glow. Every few nights a box with something very special arrives at our door, and we are thrilled that someone thought so much of us to get us a gift. And the wedding pictures are trickling in from the amazing Alison Peacock, who didn't leave my side for three days, so each new batch we see is fun and exciting. (And, I secretly hope we get to be part of her "sample" photos so our pictures can live on her website!)

But here is the thing: I've waited 42 years to do get married. About five or six proposals, a couple live-in almost-rans, one tentative post-9/11 engagment. That's a lot of buildup. I thought that I could strike the right balance of the logical with the fantasy, the magical with the practicalities of married tax penalities (seriously, it's enough to make one consider switching to a heartless, mindless yet fiscally fair political party. I don't know which one that would be, but I'm thinking of going there).

We came back to our apartment and focused on the dogs (we are training Cinco very seriously, with a guy who trains Homeland Security dogs. I swore that Cinco's recent mad dash into an intersection at 6 a.m. where he was almost squished by a sedan was his last). And stuff to get rid of. And an article I have due.

I'm not sure what I expected to happen when we got home, after all the euphoria. It was something -- different. Stevie didn't get any richer or more powerful. I didn't become suddenly sleeker and I had my hair extensions removed. He's just this guy. And I'm just this girl. And we decided to get married. And we'll just have to make something amazing happen next.

Three Weeks Later

The wedding was above all expectations. Most of the Very Important People we love showed, and I was blown away by the generosity and sweetness of our families and friends. There was food and music and tears and remembrances from all my parents (I was a little surprised to count up how many moms and dads I have, but really, there's an astonishing amount. I think this is necessary for a child raised by Me Generation parents, but that is another topic altogether).

It has been a jammed three weeks. We came back from Oregon down the coast. So much driving, so much checking out at 11 wondering about bedbugs, so much fish & chips, so much looking at world and nature framed by the passenger window. Home, and then laundry. And then cycling out old stuff with "our" stuff from very generous family and friends. And dog training and a magazine article due way too soon and why aren't I working on it RIGHT NOW?

Because this is a long-winded way of telling you that I am back. That I LOVED being a bride and wouldn't have changed it for anything in the world. But I need my blogs. I need my life beyond staring down a Very Good Job. I need Wednesday night dinners at my beloved in-laws. I need my Sundays for sewing and yoga and napping. I need to remember who I was and justify keeping my name for professional reasons.

I missed you. I need you.

Wed

We are married. We are home.