Three hours separate me from the weekend, and I cannot be more ready to run from this little town to home, where we will be spending the weekend on wedding planning! (Jazz fingers and sparkles!) I cannot wait. And I have a good feeling about the planning and sight seeing that will happen this weekend.

Has this week been rough for you, too? What are your weekend plans?

Two teenagers from this area lost their lives in an accident this past weekend, and I spent my entire day documenting friends and family saying their goodbyes.

Funerals have always made me sad, even as a child. I feel awkward in my own skin, and I am at a loss for words.

I feel even more uncomfortable when I have two cameras strapped to my body at a funeral. Double the awkwardness. Add vicious states from guests and whispers behind my back about how I are so disrespectful for being there, and you’ve got the typical reception I get at a funeral.

I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t want someone documenting my loss, either. But this is a part of my job, no matter how tough or uncomfortable it is, and I try to be as respectful and silent as possible whenever I cover a funeral. I’m not the kind of girl who will shove a wideangle in your face as you mourn. That’s just not my style, and I feel that is disrespectful.

We only attend funerals when the families are OK with us being there, but they are still so challenging.

While I received some of these glares and whispers, I was welcomed with open arms by one family. They told us stories about their son. They were happy we were there with them, and they were truly celebrating his life.

I know they were sad beyond belief, but it touched me that they went out of their way to make us feel comfortable. That doesn’t happen often, and it was a lovely surprise this morning.

I told my coworker as we drove to the funeral this morning that I hated covering funerals. I hate intruding on someone’s final goodbye, even if they approve of me being there. I hate being obligated (by work) to document their pain. And I hate how people make me feel about myself at them as they talk about me.

Today wasn’t an easy day, but I take solace in the fact that one family opened their arms and hearts to us. And for now, that is more than enough to erase the whispers, stares and dislike while I join everyone else in mourning the loss of two boys who had so much ahead of them in life.

I hate being whiny, but we all have days like those. Right? Days where when it rains, it pours. And you never see them coming. No, no. Those suckers are tricky.

What I’ve learned yesterday?

Disorganization and a lack of communication stress me out.
(If you are disorganized, it’s OK. Really. I still love you. Just don’t come work with me, and then suck at communicating what you want me to do. I can deal with them separately, not together.)

Cars stalling out/dying in the middle of an intersection = awesome not good.
(Felicity is going into the sh0p tomorrow to get fixed. Because honestly? I freaked out when everyone was honking at me and flipping me off as I was stranded in the intersection. I may or may not have boo-hooed for about 10 minutes afterward. My boy is so patient and talked me down.)

Trailer hitches don’t feel so hot against shins.
(I willed myself not to cry in front of a handful of high school students after tripping over one and majorly hitting my shins. Luckily, nothing is broken, but I have a nice lump and bruise on both legs.)

…

It sucked, but at least it’s over, and today has been a much better day.

How was today for y’all?

I am a planner and a list maker. I enjoy plotting out my day and exactly what I will be doing. When I leave my house for the day, I plan exactly where I need to go and in what order so I don’t waste gas or backtrack. When I go to the grocery store, I have a categorized list to help in choosing my food for the week.

I think about the future more than just one day in advance.

And I plan, plan, plan, even though I know some of these plans will be scrapped as their time draws closer.

I don’t understand disorganization, but doesn’t necessarily bother me as long as it doesn’t affect me. And it affects me way too often.

Surprise, surprise.

It’s official: I’m ready for Saturday.

And I’ve decided within the past 12-ish hours that I’m going to be doing not one, but two of the following challenges this month.

Because maybe I’m a little crazy. And because it’ll make me as busy as I was this past month. (Seriously. October around these parts is NUTS.)

So friends? Let’s make this month a memorable one. And if you’re doing either challenge (or both!), please, please let me know so we can lean on each other when the going gets tough.

Happy November!

I have started a binder and am tearing out pages as needed from these said magazines. (Unless, of course, they’re from the library, and then I’m scanning them and printing them out.) You know, to help with the wedding planning.

One of the first things on my mind, other than setting a date and finding a location is my dress. Because there are so many beautiful (and gaudy) gowns out there. And, to top the gorgeousness off, some ads? Are absolutely ridiculous.

The following is one of my favorites, and my friend Rose and I spent quite some time giggling about it. Trust me. You’ll see it immediately, too.

{via wedlog}

I mean, honestly? The groom clearly is there to accentuate the bride’s beauty — that’s it. And to not wear anything at all…

Also? The groom looks pasted into a lot of ads like this. (We found another one tonight that I need to scan.) And that makes me laugh, too, but it’s the nudity that really tops it off for me.

Who made that decision? And how in the WORLD could they think it was a good idea? Because I seriously doubt any groom I know would simply stand around in the nude while his bride hangs out in her dress.

Just sayin’…

I was in for a surprise when my aunt answered the phone.

My grandmother, who had been admitted to the hospital a few days earlier for a virus, had gone into emergency surgery that morning to remove an obstruction from her intestines. It turned out to be a cancerous tumor, and her long-time doctor didn’t think she would wake up from the invasive surgery. She is, after all, 90.

I cried myself to sleep that night, worrying that this was it.

She woke up Wednesday. She’s been awake daily since then and is her old self most of the time. But the cancer has spread, and the doctors have not figured out/told us to where.

I am confident, though, that whenever we find this news, we will bind together and fight together along with my grandmother. If there is anyone who can defeat cancer at her age, it’s her. She’s a tough old lady, a fighter, and she won’t give up easily. Neither will we.

But for now, this waiting is nervewracking, and the entire experience has got me thinking about my own life.

Life is too short.

Life is too short not to keep in touch. Life is too short not to travel to visit friends and family. Life is too short not to say, “I love you.” Life is too short to settle.

Life is too short to be miserable.

Life is too short to NOT do what your heart desires.

And my heart? Desires something different.

I’m mapping out my plan for the next few months, and I am so excited about this impending change. It’s getting me through these long days and nights waiting. It’s getting me through the tough truths I have to face. And it’s pushing me to where I need to be.

William Jam once said, “To change one’s life: Start immediately. Do it flamboyantly. No exceptions.”

My plan is in motion. I have started the change, though I am still working on the flamboyant part of it. And I am so excited.

So, friends? If you want a change, come on and start this journey with me. Because we all deserve better than what we have right now if we aren’t truly happy.

And life is too short not to be truly happy.

What are you currently loving?

We were minding our business on our Monday afternoon walk, taking in the sights. We were still close to home, just having turned onto another street, so every ten feet, Lucy was squatting to mark her land.

We passed a woman climbing out of her car, and I said, “Hello.” She replied, I told her to have a nice day, and we continued walking, not thinking much of the encounter.

In this woman’s yard, Lucy wanted to water the grass, so I stopped. And then I heard someone yelling.

“NU-UH! DON’T DO THAT! GET OFF MY LAWN RIGHT NOW!”

I turned to find the woman I had just greeted yelling at ME because my dog was taking a piss in her lawn.

“She’s just tinkling.”

“I don’t care what she’s doing. She doesn’t need to be doing it in my lawn. It looked like she was about to do something else. EVERYONE LETS THEIR DOGS LEAVE PRESENTS IN MY LAWN, AND I’M ALWAYS HAVING TO PICK IT UP. I’M SICK OF IT!”

“Well, I’m sorry they’ve done that. But Lucy has never done that in your lawn.”

“Well, she was about to before I yelled, and IF YOU WERE A CONSIDERATE PERSON, YOU WOULD BE CARRYING A PLASTIC BAG TO PICK IT UP!”

It should be noted that I had a plastic bag in my shirt pocket, that my dog wasn’t about to take a dump in the woman’s yard, and if she did, I would have picked it up. I’m considerate like that.

She didn’t even let me say anything.

She continued ranting about how people in this neighborhood are SO inconsiderate and how we need to stay OUT of her lawn.

“OK, we’ll do that. We will NEVER walk near your lawn again.”

This promise is going to be really challenging to keep because she lives in a corner lot on a big street. A street we walk down daily.

“Good. Because whenever your dog pees in my lawn, she’s messing up the grass, too. Look at all the brown spots! Those are because of your dog.”

There are brown spots throughout the entire lawn. Lucy has peed in this yard maybe five times. Near the sidewalk. Clearly, it’s all our fault. We should probably offer to have her lawn replanted, or whatever you have to do with that.

“OK. We’ll stay away. Don’t you worry. Have a LOVELY day.”

And we started on our walk again, Lucy looking up at my confused. The woman said nothing.

The woman, who was standing by her car, made her way to the corner and watched as we walked on the sidewalk through her front lawn, making sure Lucy didn’t stop and pee again or leave her a little present.

As soon as we were off her property, she walked back into her house.

I was so stunned from the encounter that I called a co-worker, then a few friends to recount what just happened to me.

Because, honestly? A dog peeing in your lawn TOTALLY warrants an all-out scolding of the dog’s owner.

Duh.

Good changes.

Crazy changes.

Exciting, I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-myself except have a wide, goofy smile on my face changes.

I’m still floored and exhilarated and giggly about the fact that we are engaged. I get chill bumps when I look down at my left hand to find the beautiful ring my boy had made specially for me. And I can’t help but grin when I think about last Saturday night.

I didn’t expect the proposal AT ALL, even though he and I had spoken many times about getting married, living life to the fullest and holding hands as we set foot on a new adventure. The more I think back to it, the more I should have figured there was something going on, but I didn’t put two and two together until after the fact. And I am totally OK with that because the proposal was perfect and the BEST surprise I could have ever asked for.

We are getting married! I will have a husband, and I will be a wife. In a little more than a year, I will become Mrs. E.P.S. (Weird! But cool!)

We don’t have a date yet. We don’t have a church or reception site yet. We don’t have much planned, other than we are going to be walking down the aisle sometime next winter or early spring. But I’m starting to do my research and am putting those wedding blogs I have been reading for wedding photography ideas to good use now.

I cannot help but think how lucky I am. And I cannot help but giggle (just a little!) when I say I have a fiancé.

Wedding planning: Let’s go!