the moon isn't made of honey.

i have to admit, naming each post is nearly as exciting as the actual writing of any given post. my ears even seem to perk when a preacher says the name of his message, and i'm always disappointed when one of them will say; 'i don't like giving names to my messages.'

why?

it's all the rage, as they say. or said, more accurately...in the fifties.

i've realized something. i prefer and nearly always do, write out number amounts, rather than just punch it in with the number keys. and i use the number keys above the letter keys instead of the ten key pad, which really gets jeff's goat.

(note to self: return jeff's goat.)

i love the fact that i almost always set down in front of this computer with some sort of theme or story to put down in this little box. and yet, i rarely get to the meat of anything important. for example, or i.e., if you prefer. i wanted to write about being married and the wedding, the honeymoon. you know, things that matter. and yet, i open with jibber-jabber, as the now-preacher mr. t would say.

so i did indeed get married saturday. i was so unbelievably nervous that i couldn't possibly describe it to you and give it justice. i didn't eat all day, and only took one drink of water and one drink of tea - and that was just before the ceremony. jeff, kyle and myself took what seemed to be a thousand pictures, most of which were goofy and ridiculous. the word 'snoogans' was definitely the word of the nite, as we all said it hoping the others would laugh - and we did.

while sitting in a side room, waiting for the show to get on the proverbial road, jeff, kyle and i - namely kyle and i - sang random country songs. including, but not limited to, songs such as; 'country boy can survive' and 'God blessed the broken road'.

before i knew it, dale day, the minister, had led us in a prayer and we were walking to the stage. and then the bridal march began to play and i seemed to stop breathing from then on as i saw stephanie being walked down the aisle by her father. no, it wasn't a killer look in her father's eye that left me unable to work my lungs, but stephanie, in all her beauty that confounded my ability to take in air. as i told her as we stood there, i just didn't have the appropriate words to get across to her how unbelievably gorgeous she was at that moment. i mean, she looks beautiful to me in the morning when her hair is a mess and the make-up is long gone...but, wow, any previous time i said she was beautiful was made a lie when she appeared in her wedding dress. her beauty at that moment in time was a mystery to me and still is.

i cried.

hey, don't laugh, i didn't have to tell you. thankfully most of my tears came during a prayer, so no one actually saw the aforementioned crying.

we exited to, in my opinion atleast, the coolest exit music ever heard at a wedding. that's right, '500 miles' by the proclaimers. everyone laughed and thought it was well done.

afterwards we were showered with gifts and financial gains. i was even slipped a twenty dollar bill through the handshake of one of stephanie's uncles. that was surely the coolest way i've ever been given cash. i hope to do it myself someday.

we stayed at stephanie's house that nite, she was very tired. i was too, to be honest. the next day we left for branson, which is like a hollywood for the elderly. or what hollywood would've been had walt himself discovered it. we stayed at a holiday inn express in one of their king suites. it was alot nicer than i imagined. it had two bathrooms, two t.v.'s and a whirlpool tub. while in branson, we went on the 'ride the ducks' (which i'll refrain from speaking about now because it really does warrant it's own post.) and went on the branson showboat and saw an awesome show including singing, dancing and magic. all-in-all it was a pretty good time. we got back tuesday nite and had an argument.

what?

did you think honeymoons were perfect days filled with fun and laughter and nites flooding with endless romantic passion?

you apparently didn't read the name of this post.

did you?