Chicken on the fire. Object of my desire.

I survived the weekend to everyone concerned about me. I am alive.

While Friday night's pre-wedding party was a blast and a half (I was blanketed in people who love and take care of me), the actual wedding was a bit rougher on me than I had predicted. Luckily, I had Switchblade (he can actually be quite comforting when he needs to be) and Potsie (my mother truckin' hero) there to take care of me and I came out on top. I can't see myself having to deal with the ex (or his new girlfriend who was in attendance for the wedding) any time soon. And to be honest, when Ben and Lisa move (sniff sniff), I can't really see running into him anywhere but the occasional show...not at any social engagements anyway. We don't share many common friends these days. So...my heart is on the mend. My wedding bell blues was merely a slip up!

I was invited out for a post-work cocktail with the man I cheese sandwich. I figure I am really falling hard because I could sit there and listen to him talk forever. It's like my favorite thing to do. He's helping me become a championship listener. He's helping me do a lot of things I didn't think I could do. Swoon.

But what's really important is taking the time to congratulate Ben and Lisa and thank them for letting me be a part of their special day. It was a great event. Sorry if I got too drunk. But where Lisa is concerned, I'm not sure there's any such thing as TOO drunk! Anyway, thanks guys. Deep down under all of my anti-marriage layers, I'm truly happy for you.

I am fairly certain I am going to toss. Chicken fingers ain't sittin' pretty.