I went home to Grand Rapids this weekend.  I could tell you where this is, but it’s just easier if I point to a specified location on my right palm. [Hardy har, laugh at the Michigander.]

We (Me, Matt, Stadt, Nicole, and Nick) embarked on our eastward journey, in 3498524357 cars, because we are that efficient.  Somewhere near Lansing, we were stuck in standstill traffic, due to this accident, apparently.  We sat FOR-EV-ER.  The wedding was at 5:45.  We arrive at 7:00, just in time to see Katey and her new hubby pull up to the reception. As I went to hug her, I began to apologize, but the girl was on Cloud Nine (to the tenth power), so it didn’t really matter. I love Katey.  I love Chris, her new husband. Congratulations, kids. Everything was beautiful and bubbly and wonderful.

Along with weddings and high-school-friend reunions comes LOTS of wedding chatter.  About three years ago, the ‘Giners — as my friends Nicole, Katey, Jess, and I referred to ourselves — discussed which order we would most likely get married.  We agreed (and correct me if I’m wrong, ladies) on the following order:

1.) Jess
2.) Katey
3.) Jenn
4.) Nicole

Now, the sequence can be changed…

1.) Katey
2.) Nicole (in about a month)
3.) Jess
.
.
.
.
.
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.4.) Jenn  (?…Eh?)

When a friend asked, “Are you engaged yet?”  I responded, “Oh God, no.”  (And I’m not going to lie; I kind of dodged the bouquet.)

I am not a horrible person.  I am not a horrible person.  I am not a horrible person. I am just not ready for the white dress and the bridesmaids, the crappy DJ and the stressful planning.

However, I can tell you this…Seeing Damon walk through the front door of our new apartment after being away from each other for four days? One of the most thrilling moments I’ve had in a while.  And right now, that’s all that matters.