Confessions:

I am a Fair Weather Blogger.

That's me. I have come to accept it. It is about time you should too. That is, if you are still there. Is anyone there?

That is a rhetorical question.

Anyway, here I am. Ready to entertain you with the awesomeness that is my life.

Also, to boast about my modesty.

I wish I could say I have been busy. And I guess to some extent that is true, if you call working 50 hours a week, planning a wedding, and filling what little free time you have with cooking, laundry, and watching the last 6 seasons of Grey's Anatomy on Netflix instant watch, busy? Let me digress for a moment and say, ladies- if you have not had the pleasure of seeing Grey's or hold some sort of grudge against it because you can't stand Katherine Heigl, let me tell you to just watch it already! It is so good and Heigl pusses out half way through season 4 so, get over yourself and WATCH IT NOW.

But where was I? Ah yes, busy. When B and I got engaged back in July we were not really in a rush to set a date. I think it took til October to set an official this-is-when-we-are-getting-hitched date. And now here we are, 204 days away from the big day. Let me tell you, that shit came up quick! And while I am not in panic mode yet, I can feel it creeping up on me like those ten pounds I gained over Christmas and it is only a matter of time before I freakthefuckout. But really I should calm down. We have the reception hall. We have the officiant. We have the DJ. We have invitations and most all the addresses. We are pretty sure on where we are going to get the flowers. And the honeymoon is booked. So that is something, isn't it?

But, the big thing. The one thing everyone asks about. The thing that every bride "supposedly" dreams of (I say this with quotes cause I never did, but then again I was a bit of a tom-boy). The long, white, costs as much as a down payment for a car, thing. I haven't even started. Everything else is easy. The flowers, the hall, the hours of researching honeymoon destinations was a cake walk compared to the task of finding a dress. And I am running out of time. Because of this huge obstacle standing in my way.

The number staring up at me from my bathroom scale.