What. The. Hell.

Seriously, where did the last four weeks go? I figured it was about two weeks since my last entry. Nope. It was definitely a full four. I don't even know what to say.

What the hell have you been doing and where the hell have you been, you might ask. Well, a lot has happened. Roll your eyes and be condescending, go ahead, but here's the full recap:

Four weeks ago was the annual family ski trip to NY and it was nothing short of fantastic. Snow has been scarce this season, not only for Ohio, but for most of the US, from what I've read/heard. We made our way up to our usual spot for what is approximately my 31st year in a row. Literally, my family has been taking this trip every single year - my parents were traveling up to NY together even before they were married. Mom, dad, sister, sister's boyfriend, Rigatoni and I all share a huge hotel room at the ski lodge and basically laugh our asses off for three days straight. At some point, one of us turns bright red and forgets to breathe because we are laughing that hard. Ahh, such a great feeling when you realize your family isn't a bunch of assholes.

Three weeks ago, I was on my way up north to finalize the details for Wedding Reception #1 when my car hit black ice/slush, swerved through the opposite lane, spun around in a dramatic circle, and smashed into a telephone pole in someone's lawn. This really happened. Had the impact been on the front of the car as opposed to the back, my legs would probably be in full casts as I type this. It was extremely traumatic, but I am thankful the accident resulted in only minor injuries to my upper legs, arm, and back. Rigatoni's car is another story - the car died a quick death upon impact. Certain parties are still upset with the death of the golden Camry, but that's okay, I guess it kind of was my fault that the country roads up north weren't salted or plowed during an accurately-predicted snow storm.

Two weeks ago, I was busy stressing the fuck out over whether my legs would feel well enough to bust some sweet dance moves during the reception. Turns out rest, ice, heat, and lots of time to heal works wonders. My dance moves were pretty awesome. You would never have known I almost died two weeks prior.

Last week, I was busy stressing the fuck out over the fact that I never actually made it up north to confirm any of the meaningless details regarding the reception and how it better be a fucking awesome time for my friends and family. Turns out my mom, dad, and aunt did a superb job of handling all of this nonsense while I healed. I should have known to fully trust them. What can I say? I have larger picture and smaller picture trust issues.

The reception was the anti-wedding, wedding reception and I don't believe Rigatoni and I could have asked for more. No garter (whore) dance, no look-at-me-cake-cutting bullshit, no everyone-dance-to-this-shitty-song-because-it's-tradition nonsense. It was drinks, dinner, and dancing. Then a hometown bar. Then a shower for me because I smelled like sweat, vodka, and fun. What does fun smell like? It smells so horrible that it is utterly awesome.

Really, it's too bad we can't have another fiesta just like this. Oh wait. Timeout. We are. Rigatoni's parents are throwing us a party in a couple months so his extended family can attend from out of state. You know how when couple say "it's our wedding so...(insert childish statement here)". Well, ours is "it's our wedding so we'll have two parties if we want to!". I'm looking forward to smelling like fun really soon...