My Legs Hurt

Justin and I decided to join a program called Crossfit as our pre-wedding workout routine.  It was recommended to me by a friend who looked fabulous on her wedding day, so we figured that it can't hurt.  Well...that assumption was oh so wrong.  After one workout, we are both HURTING.  I cannot even describe what hurts specifically because the entire lower half of my body aches.  If this doesn't get us into shape, I don't know what will.  Tonight is workout number two and I'm not sure how I'll survive but alas, after putting in our credit card info, we are committed.

And They're Off

Well folks, it's official, it's really happening.  The invitations are in the mail with hopefully enough postage to reach their destination.  After many hours of stuffing and sealing, with a glass or two of vino for inspiration, we managed to complete them in one night.  My fingers are currently filled with multiple paper cuts and if I never have to seal another envelope, I'll be alright.  The bad news... we forgot a return stamp on someones invitation.  The good news...we only missed one stamp.  Hopefully it wasn't yours. 

Fiance Trickery

Saturday Justin and I will be going to Napa.  He believes we are going to have lunch and visit a few of our favorite wineries and perhaps discover some new ones.  In reality, we are going to visit my very good friend Lauren at the hair salon.  Yes, we will also be visiting a fancy lunching spot and also consuming some vino, but the main goal is to introduce Lauren to Justin.  Lauren you see, was my roommate in college.  We now talk once in a blue moon but still are able to pick up right where we left off.  She's one of the most honest, hilarious people that I know and so of course, I want her to meet "the one" and Justin just HAS to meet her.  Trouble is, Lauren is so busy, that the only way that I am able to get some of her time, is to schedule a hair appointment with her at her salon.After I get Justin hopped up on vino and delish food I will casually take him to the salon for an hour of catchup girl time and fiance introductions.  I'm quite pleased with this plan.  I only hope Lauren knows that I don't really need a haircut.

Oh Subaru...why must you hurt our bank account?

This weekend Justin and I went to the Subaru dealership to get some information about our upcoming October purchase.  We intended to buy an Outback to give the Jeep a rest for a while.  This trip resulted in us looking at every single car that Subaru now offers (for better or worse) as well as test driving two different types of cars.  The first...an Outback.  Twas a nice smooth ride, lots of space (I'm not sure why the two smallest people needs so much space...but that's another post), plenty of cargo room and lots of luxury upgrades.  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spied the WRX and just had to take a peak and boy did I like what I saw.  So...naturally, I just had to drive it and it was a mighty nice fun ride.  Definitely more aesthetically pleasing, but the upgrades and luxury additions are minimal at best.  On top of that, they are willing to give us a deal...decisions, decisions.  Sacrifice luxury for the power and speed?  I'm just not sure.

Pool, Tanning, Girls...limits?

Today I learned that our complex has begun to enforce a rule where each resident can only bring one guest to the pool.  This disturbs me.  One of my favorite summer activities is to sit at my melrose place pool and pretend I'm somewhere in the Caribbean.  Second to that activity, I like to live in the present and invite the girls over for Sunday vino by the pool.  After all, who doesn't enjoy a crisp Sauv by the pool discussing the latest US weekly and our upcoming party plans (as of late, it's my bachelorette party...for another post).  I can no longer invite 2 girls over to the pool to enjoy such happenings and I am limited to one, unless Justin joins.  Now, as much as I love my fiance, I'm pretty sure that he has NO interest in the latest diet trends and/or what wines we have all tried lately.  Once again, the college kids have put an end to my immature fun.  Damn them for partying harder than we do.