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licence to numptial

Yesterday Dan and i walked over to the Bedford Town Hall to apply for our marriage licence. The process was relatively quick and painless: blood test no longer required in the state of MA, although we did have to sign and certify that we were not siblings, parents, or grandparents of eachother. Cousins apparently can marry each other just fine, as can gay people, but since we're neither cousins nor gay, the process was rather run-of-the-mill and scarcely triumphant.

On the official document we had to fill out, Dan accidentally made a mistake on one of the letters of his mother's middle name, and the town clerk made him write the entire licence all over again. When he made a mistake on the second copy i was almost sure that this was a stalling technique and he didn't really want to marry me. But sure enough, third time's the charm and we finally got that document all properly filled out.

If Dan wasn't too happy about forking over all that personal information to "The Man" who's watching all of us from the Bedford water tower, he got paid back by snagging two vintage computers from the trash pile on the way out. Good thing we're only getting married once, otherwise our house would be filled with cream-colored remnants of early technology which, on a good day, can barely scrape by running sammy-the-worm-that-eats-bricks.

Onto Leah news, from now on i am going to put my weight update on the second page of my posts, so that people who don't care (90% of everyone) can skip the obsessive-compulsive insanity. We'll call it the w8upd8 for coolness. If only i could make that "up" an upward facing arrow sign, that would be AWESOME!

I went to a kickboxing class last night, because the gym was uber crowded with all the losers who start off the week with good intentions, and then taper off after Monday. This happens EVERY WEEK. Don't they learn they're not getting any skinnier this way? Anyway, i had no desire to fight my way through the crowds for a machine, so i headed upstairs to see what kind of classes were going on. The kickboxing was not so much of a cardio workout, as it was a kill-my-ass with hurty nonstop kicking workout, but even so i'm not even sore today. so next week i will not waste my time. Also, there were like a MILLION women in there who were skinnier and more musclier than me, which made me feel like CRAP, since for a second there i thought i was doing pretty good on my whole pre-wedding kill-myself thing. What are these women who are not even getting married doing with tanned arms and perfect abs??? Why do i suck so much at the thinness? Why am i so short?

Also making me feel like crap, i was talking to Oona on the phone about my w8 goal of 115, and she exclaimed "That's what i weigh!!" Oona, who is 5'6" is now 4 lbs lighter and 5 inches taller than me. My new weight goal is 110, and Oona is only allowed to eat cake and cookies until September. Also, i saw joanna the other day and she looks like she's been hitting the gym lately. Ladies, STOP! New rule: If your weight is less than mine on September 4th, this is an automatic disqualification from my wedding party. I am now taking applications for replacement fattys from off the street. The only qualification is that you must look massive in pink.

This morning i weighed 118.5 ... then 119.5 .... then 119.5 ... then 119, consecutively with about three seconds during tries. I plan on bying a new scale as a second opinion.

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