Perfect!

Embarrassingly, it makes me really happy to have twenty friends over for a barbeque and be eating off of real plates. Granted, we’re still using the goofy bamboo silverware (wood-ware?) from our wedding, which sucks, but that’s because someone’s hubby uses forks and butter knives as tools because he never puts his away.

Anyway, I do recommend the splurging on dollarware over renting dishes strategy.

I had stealthily stashed away your idea of attacking the dollar store for place settings - things that can be reused, or smashed in celebration the night of, a la greek wedding style. You know, in case things get really happy.

And after the fact, you can always donate some of those dishes (if necessary) to a shelter or something else that might be in need of such things. To keep the good little wedding karma goin’ round…

I’ve been floored to see some wedding budgets that weren’t, shall we say, publicly shared. In all honesty, knowing made me feel better. “Oh, well, I’m not spending $60k, so of course my invites aren’t that freaking awesome. Moving on….”

I had many angstful (if that’s a word, and since I now declare that it is…) moments leading up to our wedding, and blogging on the ‘bee didn’t help so much. In the end, our wedding rocked even though it looked better in the pictures than it did in real life, but I like to think that if all goes well, photography captures a feeling and not just the facts.

And the next day, our house was still freshly painted and our property freshly manicured, and the money we sank into the party paid for memories that were much more than an event. Our home became a member of our family. (Yes, I am that freaking mushy.)

And we can use the hundreds of pieces of dishware and glassware for future parties (and we have already).

Because I completely understand the dichotomy. In the past seven years I’ve lived in three major cities and something like twelve houses/ apartments. A year ago, I signed my first mortgage, and I struggle. I want to make it mine, believe we’ll never leave… and then I yearn for something new, something different, something so completely foreign that you get to invent who you want to be. I miss exploring new neighborhoods. I miss the feeling of freedom that comes with not knowing what you’ll find around the corner.

But much like my relationship, I’m past the point where I believe the only way to happiness is to start over when you fcuk up. So, we’ll keep trying to figure out this crazy house and property, even if it means fixing what we messed up. It’s nice to not feel hopeless at the prospect of living with your decisions.

And also, now I want to paint the floors in my office a very shiny white. Oh, that guest house. *swoon*