O-bla-di, o-bla-da, life goes on, brah!

The last time I was in Portland, I was single.

Now I'm back* and I'm married.

How weird is that?

What a difference 1.5 years makes.

At the risk of being cheesy, November 10th was the best day of my life. Hands down: best. day. ever.

I questioned my sanity when we decided on an outdoor Tennessee wedding in November. But lo and behold God sent us a sunny 73 degree day. I kid you not, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  Not a single cloud.

People: I cried over the weather. It was just that perfect.

I was so worried about it being cold, or rainy or super windy and as it turned out, it was none of those things. I know that God loves us no matter what weather He sends, but our wedding day weather was almost like an added blessing, God's way of saying "Hell yes, this makes me happy!"

There are so many small moments I don't want to forget: getting ready with my ladies, seeing how perfect all the bridesmaids looked together, coming down the stairs in my dress for the first time,  doing a first look with my dad outside under the tree. Having to pee and laugh/crying before going up the aisle. Standing alone upstairs taking deep breaths thinking "this is it," seeing my sweet flowergirls, hearing Matt repeatedly interrupt our pastor during his vows, asking Matt, at the alter, how much he had had to drink that morning, seeing our gorgeous reception for the first time, watching all the glow necklaces and bracelets come dancing up through the tables, the awesome toasts, all the DANCING!!  I could go on and on, but being surrounded by our friends and family from near and far, all of whom have been so loving and supportive was incredible. The next morning as Matt and I drove to Atlanta, I cried over how awesome our friends and family are. Seriously, we are so freaking blessed. We have the best community.

For our honeymoon Matt took us to the Dominican Republic, where we stayed at an all-inclusive resort on the beach and we ate, drank, and swam ourselves silly. It was good to get away with no cell phones, no computers and no planning. In fact, it was the first vacation I've taken in 2 years where I didn't bring my laptop. It was awesome. Kudos to Matt for planning the entire thing and keeping it all a secret up until we stepped foot in the airport. My man is awesome.

Upon landing back in the states we drove down to Choudrant for Thanksgiving with Matt's family. We had a nice time hunting, eating southern food and going to see Lincoln (you know it).

Coming home was glorious and strange. Around 9pm Saturday night amidst my protests and cries of concern over his back, Matt carried me over the threshold of our little rental (his back survived). And thus began our life at home.

We are settling in.

My formerly single self struggles from time to time and there are days where I am overwhelmed by the idea of changing my last name, going back to work and settling into "oneness."  Something about coming down off of what I refer to as "the wedding high" feels much worse than the day after Christmas. And changing my last name, while totally optional, feels like leaving a part of myself behind. No one ever told me that getting married is in many strange ways, bittersweet.

Meanwhile, newlywed Danica is being stretched. I like my space. I like my way of doing things. I like my sense of order.  Some nights I lie awake wondering how my bed became so small and I wonder how long it will be until I grow accustomed to sharing everything all the time, and then I immediately feel guilty for not being over the moon 24/7 about sharing my life with someone.  It's strange... the very things you look forward to turn out to be the things that require the most adjusting.

I repeatedly tell myself that my identity is not in my relationship status,  my last name or my job title. My sense of happiness and self-worth shouldn't be weighted in my independence... but for a long time it has been.

Pastors everywhere will tell you that marriage brings out your "idols"... and here I am, not even 3 weeks in and that's proven to be true for me. I value my independence, my space and my way. I'm amazingly selfish, and like any three year old I want my space, my toys, my way. Mine. How ridiculous.

And then there's Matt. Matt who buys me apples and gatorade when I am sick. Matt who once researched my future employer just so he could help me with mock interviews. Matt who is the steady, patient, and kind "ying" to my erratic, impulsive and emotional "yang."  Matt who somehow manages to love me in spite of myself.  Heavens I love that man.

=)

*don't hate me stephen... i barely had 72 hours in town and work ate up every last one of them, otherwise I would have called and done dinner!!