Happily Ever After
Hello, you sweet things. Guess the hell what?
Yes we did!
Senator Sasquatch has become Mr. Doxie, and it's time for a brand new adventure. It's been way too long, I'm happier than I've ever been, and I miss the hell out of writing. And Bo can be silenced no longer.
LOOK, LADIES! IS BO. BO SEXY AND DISTINGUISHED LIKE SEAN CONNERYS.
So...here I am, once again. Please be patient with me; it's hard to come back, and I'm terrified that now that I'm happy, I won't be funny anymore (what if all I do is moon over how cute my husband is? Because, y'all: OMG he's ADORABLE. Want to read all his love notes? Or see his baby pictures? Or, hey! I could describe how good he smells, in iambic pentameter! I...y'all?).
Point being, I'm probably going to be easing in, but dear CHRIST, do I have some stories to tell -- we got engaged in April, my sister got married in May, and then WE got married in September. My life has been a matrimonial whirlwind of showers and invitations and 70,000 trips to Michael's, and honestly, it was the most fun ever, but HOLY HELL am I glad we don't have to do it again. And incidentally, in case you were wondering from the picture above -- yeah, we got married in a cemetery. Hello. We are insane people.
Anyway, that's where we are now; I married my soulmate, on top of a whole bunch of dead guys. The wedding was beautiful and perfect and awesome and I will probably talk about it until forever. We continue to be tormented by (a) Gimmme, (b) Bo, and (c) Evil Kitteh. And it's better than I could have ever imagined. (And, bonus: now we have a metric shit-ton of housewares! Seriously, there is no fancy-ass kitchen implement which we did NOT receive as a wedding gift. Our toaster can do math. It communicates with NASA. It possibly plans to harvest our organs in our sleep but we don't even care because YAY, GOLDEN TOASTY BREAD PRODUCTS).
(Meanwhile, also please note that the toaster has become our fourth pet. Its name is Toaster. As in, "Toaster made this for you; it's TOAST" or "Shh, Toaster is calibrating something!" or "Toaster seems to be calling the President." Anyway, Toaster is way smarter than the dogs, and earns bonus points because Toaster has yet to shit on the coffee table. Toaster is rapidly becoming Mommy's favorite, until I wake up one day without a kidney. BAD TOASTER!)
And...yeah, here we are. I'm just going to post this now, send it out there without editing, but I just wanted to check in, share all this crazy, overwhelming joy we've got going, and say hey, after much too long. And, of course, to announce that from now on...it's Mrs. Doxie. Which, all said, is just another way of saying, EEEEEEEE, YOU GUYS, I GOT MOTHERFUCKING MARRIED!
Yay, the dogs are legitimate now!
Love to all of y'all, and I'll be back soon -- I promise. This time, I'm here to stay, for better or worse.
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