Invites, Socks, a Job, a Name and a Fashion Emergency + CANDY MOUNTAIN

Things we've learned this week: designing custom invitations for your wedding is exhausting. We spend hours working on them, and then found out they were in the wrong format for the printer to work with, so Rob had to redo them. It took him four hours, and he was pissed. But they look amazing. I'm seriously proud.

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I don't understand how I have so many lonely socks. ("Is she seriously so boring she's talking about socks?" Yes.) There are 17 partner-less socks in my house. I dug all non-paired socks out from all corners of closet and dresser, laid them out on my bed and tried to find friends for each of them amongst themselves. It worked for a few pairs, and then I played a frustrating and increasingly lenient game of "Close Enough" with the rest of them. I still wound up with 17 very different socks.

If you have any brilliant ideas about what to do with lonely socks, send them my way. So far, I've come up with sock puppets and dust cloths (but I don't dust, so really, just sock puppets).

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I have a very small part time job that starts tomorrow with a very small, very interesting company. If it goes well, I'll talk about it.

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Every time I consider changing my name, I get sick to my stomach. I'm bound to get grief from certain people, but I can't do it. Even if Rob's last name didn't rhyme with "fat", I still don't think I'd be able to, but the fact that it does makes it worse. I have enough issues. And being that I'm pretty sure key members of his family will never fully accept little goy me, I don't think it matters anyhow.

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It was so cold today I wore Rob's bathrobe everywhere. Except to the job interview, but I ducked back into it the second I got back to my car. I am a fashion nightmare, and I am too cold to give a damn.

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