Last night, we were in SF. In an artist's studio. In a basement in Bernal Heights.
We were learning how to properly melt wax to create a seal. (By the way, this does not involve sticking the wax directly into a flame. That will only result in black wax. And possibly a fire. I know because I have made this mistake many times. Which is why we needed said lesson in melting wax.)
And it hit me: We have two months. Two freaking months!
And shockingly: I think I am actually excited.
4 comments
You and your wax-melting lessons are fucking hardcore.
I'm so excited for your wedding, too!
Seriously, though, the folks at Yellow Owl are fucking cool. I want to have a million weddings so I can order things from them over and over again.
OK ... well, maybe not a million weddings. Perhaps just announcements for future cat children.
They look pretty awesome. Can't wait to see the invites!
Sorry, I owe you a phone call. I've been in a funk, and not the good Rick James sort. Will you be around tonight?
Don't worry about the phone call -- I understand. You've had to cope with vomit. That is my worst nightmare.
I should be around tonight, putting stamps on wedding invites, unless I get dragged out for a night of debauchery (which I highly doubt will happen since one of my drinking partners is in Vegas and the other is on her way to SoCal right now).
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