Love and Pastries

It's really hot. But you already knew that.

These lovely people got married. (College Sweethearts!)
It was a really pretty event and I was glad to have been invited. The groom, because of Title IX, was my softball teammate on the Women's team for a while at Purchase College before the baseball team came to fruition.
The bride is from a French background and many guests had made the trip over the Atlantic to take in the nuptials. It was really fun to hear all the pretty French words being thrown around. It really seems to be an impossible language to understand.
The French relatives and friends were quite the bons vivants you might say. The Frenchies made the event very high energy which was great because after viewing it all, my wedding will probably be quite boring. Mark and I will have to rethink inviting a lot of heavy drinking friends just to up the festive appeal.
Also, we've suddenly realized that we both have completely different ideas of what our wedding should be like. Which kinda freaked me out! I thought we'd both be 'let's go casual'. Reasons being we're not really fancy-pants people and the fact that the more casual wedding means, at least to me, more budget conscious. But apparently Mark is into the highly structured, fairly formal wedding. WHA?!
Are you as surprised as me?

After one and a half months of deliberation and unnecessary anxiety I've finally decided to register for a recreational, 2-day baking class at the Institute of Culinary Education. As soon as camp is over I'll spend two days baking sweet and savory breads, tarts, and pastries. In my dreams I discover I'm a natural in a kitchen baking bready treats straight from heaven and decide that culinary school is my future. But I'll probably just spend hundreds of dollars taking classes and loving it (I hope) but still spend my days flailing around pretending to be interested in early childhood education.

So Best Wishes to Samantha and Congratulations to Mario. At the wedding I said Congratulations to Sam knowing there is some archaic rule about what you're suppose to say to each member of the married couple and knowing that solely because I hadn't looked it up, I was fairly sure I was saying the wrong thing. I know in the end it's only total asses who really care about that stuff but still...tradition must live on!