Thanks! Eloping was def the way to go. My parents are dead and his, while lovely people, are all crazed for some insanely elaborate ceremony with all the bells and whistles. Usually, I would go for this because I'm a giant attention whore who never refuses a chance to capitalize on an opportunity for presents I don't need and will inevitably return for other things. But we both work in highly demanding positions that I'm not about to compromise to plan a day of madness because why? We're supposed to? Fuck that noise! I did not claw my way to the executive level just to suddenly bow before social norms. I'm a conceited bitch who fell in love with a giant computer geek and somehow, the fairy tale works. Plus he tolerates my Star Wars obsession and has listened to my very valid complaints against the prequels and grounded fears about the upcoming sequels and proposed spin-off movies that threaten to rape my very childhood yet again. The notion of seeing wrinkled fat Leia and meth face Luke onscreen is enough to make me do something irrational. If Han gets botoxed to shit and doesn't act like a giant blowhard, it might work. I stress might.
This is what IT-Guy has to contend with. The passing mention of Lucas and his rooster neck droop sends me into a state!
The point is, love prevails. We made a command decision and went with it. His friends were awesome and supportive. Mine played right into type. Melanie was my maid of honor despite killing me in the storyline. Kimber got lost twice in our own resort. Valerie slept with at least two locals, one of the groomsmen and three of the staff, perhaps all at once in some tequila fueled Mexican orgy.
And I would not have had it any other way.
