Can you smell it?

Love is in the air.

Two days ago my sister and her main squeeze tied the proverbial knot. Want to see how glorious it was? If you don’t, now is your last chance to look away. But you wouldn’t look away because if you did I’d have to say, hey, you have a beef with happiness? Then go read another blog, yo.

It had been raining all kinds of canines and felines for days on end, but Saturday dawned without a descending droplet to be found.

Perks to being a bridesmaid: Maximum merrymaking, minimum responsibility.

This is the first wedding I’ve attended since my wedding day. And while that day is still the reigning best day of my life, this day was a touch more relaxing. Harry and I were amazed at how nice it was to eat food and occasionally sit down and be available to run errands and wrap caramels in black and white paper. We got to eat fish tacos and drink unlimited Fanta at Rubio’s and we swung by Rite Aid for some Chocolate Malted Krunch. It was, in a word, groovy.

That said, the best part of the day was seeing my sister as happy as I’ve ever seen her. And she’s already a rather plucky and giggly pixie doodle. Were it possible, I would have Elvis Costello’s “She” playing in the background while you peruse the pictures above to capture how fabulously glam and genuinely stunning the bride really was/is.

Another best part: getting to party and cut a rug with these babes.

And these babes.

(and other babes that aren't yet pictured-- I can only steal pictures from so many other people at a time!)

I am so grateful for my delicious family. We’re all hardwired to adore/admire/get a big kick out of each other without having to do much else than be within earshot of one another, which I think is a good thing to be hardwired to do.

And now. On a slightly more narcissistic note (well, this blog is 50% about ME, isn’t it?):

Six months ago today I got married to

and ever since I can’t help but feel like I got the better end of the deal.

I was already pretty pleased with life before I hitched my wagon to his. I'm still pleased, with a heaping helping of thrilled mixed in.

I’m not someone who adjusts very quickly to small life changes, let alone gargantuan ones. I battled with nostalgia for weeks when “The Wonder Years” ended. I cried for days in 4^th grade when my parents decided to get wood floors and adios the carpet. And I had a nuclear meltdown at age 6 when my parents had the tree in our front yard removed because the roots were destroying the pavement (“Mom! That tree was my LIFE!”).

Thus, it’s more than extremely fortunate for me that the man I spend all my free time with is someone I’ve felt completely at home with since we started this whole shenanigan in September 2007.

I love my Harry. And I think we’re in for more rip roaring good time for the next ∞.