Friday, February 10, 2012

Welcome to my 1991 (part one)


1991 was an amazing year. Three major events in my life happened that year.

One, I graduated from Collage. I finally ended my what seemed like forever collegiate career when I received my very impressive BA in Psychology. Yeah Baby!



Photobucket
(I'm lovin' the 90s big hair)


Two, I snagged the very desirable and coveted title of MRS. Mind you that this was no ordinary Mrs. This was the Mrs. HARMS title. The one that came with the prodigious Miguel Harms attached to it. Acquiring him was no small feat I might add. It took me a full year to convince him that he was indeed in love with me, and that just being friends would never make the cut, for either of us. 20 years later, it has totally payed off.



Photobucket 


We were poor... One of the ways we cut corners, regrettably, was with the photographer. Unfortunately I don't really have a real good picture of Mike and me with our "wedding clothes".  This will have to do. This picture was taken by somebody (probably my sister Linda, the "official" family photographer) right after we changed into our "going away" attire.
The next two pictures were taken by our wedding photographer, and I love them, they are my favorites, so I couldn't resist showing them off.
But.
A question:
Who gets married in July with a long sleeve wedding dress? In Texas? Yep, that would be me, clueless me!!!


Photobucket 

Photobucket 


Three. Along with the planning of a wedding is the ever so exciting task of choosing what you are going to ask everyone to give to you as a wedding gift, not realizing that you will be stuck with these choices for the rest of your life. The infamous registry. The dishes, the china, silverware, sheets, towels, you name it. A pretty fun occasion in the life of a woman. In hind sight, can I just say, if I had to do it all over again, I think I would just let my poor husband go shoot a rabbit or something instead of dragging him around trying to get him to "participate" and "be a part" in this whole decision making time. What do they know anyway? Seriously? What were we thinking?  Now that I have been married 20 years, I would NEVER, in a million years, ask Mike to come to the store with me to choose anything for my our home. If I took him he would probably choose something from the 90s. Mark my word. The 90s stuff  just hasn't come around yet. It's just not quite time for it to become retro.

Totally a side note here: If you are getting married, or you know someone who is, please tell her to not drag her man along to register (unless he begs you to, which he won't). Take your girlfriend instead, the one that you think has better taste than you. The husband (at least mine) doesn't really care. He just wants a towel that will dry him, a pot that will cook food, and a dish that will hold the food on it, and a fork that won't break when he tries to bring that food to his mouth. Sheets that will keep him warm at night and the wife that will be right next to him every night, for the rest of his life. Just pick what you like, he really doesn't care! Don't take him.

OK, so why on earth have I told you all of this? I totally got off on a tangent there. Stay tuned please. Because this isn't what I was really going to write about. And since it got to long you will have to wait till some time next week to feast on the 2012-1991.

The big (ugly) kitchen reveal!
I can't wait!

But, before I go, two more precious pictures. I can't help myself.


Photobucket 

At the Hotel on our honeymoon


Photobucket 

Our very first Christmas photo.
Oh! to be 21 and thin again!

Blessed 1991


1 comment: