"Do you ever blog anymore? God."

Yes, I do. I promise! Do not give up on me, loyal readers.

I've sort of been in this irritating funk where I have to do things such as work and take care of myself and try to raise $3,800 while simultaneously planning a wedding, that, it turns out, is rather expensive. And gas prices? They suck. And I still want a dog.

That's where I've been. Where have you been? You've probably been having much more fun. Speaking of fun, did you hear Britney is performing again? OK, not so much "fun" and "oddly fascinating and also sort of gross," but still. It's comforting to know she's so quickly rebounded from the unfortunate mental breakdown of sorts and returned to her roots, seeing as though it was her wig, not her skirt or bra, that covered the largest percentage of her body. Way to go, Brit.

Also, in other news, my legs don't hurt. My heel doesn't hurt. I can successfully run without pain. And as I type this, I'm sure some peculiar ligament or tendon or bone in my body is deciding now would be a wonderful opportunity to tear or break or fracture. But for now, let us rejoice.

This weekend I finally get to see the chapel in which I will get married, in three months and seven days, by the way. Mom, she's seen it. And, well, I trust her judgment. And one must not be picky when planning a wedding on a budget. But I figured it'd be wise to view it, at least once, in case it's awful and I need three months and seven days to remind myself that it's only 15 minutes of my life, and two days later? I'll be in Mexico.

Speaking of Mexico. It'd be cool if I was on vacation. Because I don't know about you, but I need a vacation. I need a vacation so bad I might self-combust. I need to go somewhere and forget that A) I am poor, B) my job? It sucks, C) the litterbox stinks, D) I still have to plan an entire wedding, E) I have no decent summer shoes and F) my car needs an oil change. And since I can't go on vacation right now, I'll just go home to Mom, and that's almost as good.

So, these are the things that I know at the moment. I also know that I get to eat dinner with a very pregnant bridesmaid this evening, and that's pretty exciting. And? Tomorrow night I get to cash in that free steak dinner. So that one time The Fiance ate three-fourths of a bovine, and subsequently gained 13 pounds and an audible "moo"? It will not be in vain.