"No Time for Talking."

So it's been five days since I stood in a Princess Diana themed living room and received a piece of paper that now lets Nick automatically have, without additional paperwork, some money if I happen to croak. Oh, and of course, I now have a cheaper health insurance plan. Woot.

So general details how it actually went down:
1. Amy got me my dress from eBay for $86. Highlight of the entire process. It was cheaper than my senior prom dress. Nice. Me and sissy:2. Saturday: hitched a ride with the family to Reno. Stopped by the courthouse for the license, perused the front for chapel brochures and chose the one that advertised $13.90.
3. Sunday: Got ready, got shackled in less than a minute, and got to witness my dad gorge himself at The Peppermill Buffet. Reference entry title to encapsulate his general mindset whenever there was food within 10 feet of him.


Some general comments on the immediate aftermath:
1. Nick gets admiring compliments on how quickly and painlessly he was able to accomplish everything. I'm currently on inquiry #23 on whether or not I have a bun in the oven. For the record, I am not pregnant.
2. My last name stays. Though "Kuojo" really was in serious (but not really) consideration. Ha. Still cracks me up.
3. Does every girl really fantasize about their dream wedding when they were young? Yeeeah. I wanted to be Batman's sidekick.

All in all. Not a big deal. Yaaaaaay.

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General Unpleasantness

If there's anything to exacerbate my predisposition to loathe Stephanie Meyer, discovering she based New Moon on a Blue October song really jump starts the vivid violent rage imagery. That and the new found assumption that being a fan of Muse originates from being a Twilight lover. Argh. Hate hate hate hate hate this particular pop culture phenomenon. I really do. That being said, I'll begrudgingly admit without the girly lameness, Vampire Diaries wouldn't be receiving its due and I wouldn't have the unofficial bragging rights to owning vintage copies of the series from the early 90s. Oh yeah, my pre-teen tendencies have been way ahead of the curve, bitches.

Anyone finding the whole Kanye-Taylor Swift thing to be more amusing than anger-inducing? I mean, when someone manages to out-douche themselves to such a public degree, you can't help but laugh in amazement. Plus, the resulting reactions from the blogosphere is like a neverending loop of celeb entertainment for weeks to come.

For example, Michael K holding up on his part:
"Gay Fish made the MTV VMAs all about him by breaking the heart of a toddler."
"Jon Gosselin is standing by to gladly hand over his used tampon tiara (made by Ed Hardy, of course) to Kanye West and crown him the new Douchebag of the Millennium."