Fun-strating: (noun) "Golly, dealing with car problems with my best friends sure was fun-strating!"

I can't believe it's August third. What changes a year can bring. This weekend, starting with Thursday evening, was slam jammed with chaos and fun-strating activities. Fun-strating? yes, I made that word up. I believe the proper definition is when your activities are less than optimal, but the people you are with are amusing and fun to be with, and you really don't have anything better to do, but you might possibly rather be doing something else. Watch for it on the SAT.

As in the aforementioned post, Thursday night a gaggle of us went out to Riveroaks to see Jennigray and celebrate her birthday for just a few hours in-between final destinations. So short, it was practically a layover. We had delicious cupcakes from Cupcake and big glasses of milk and sat around the kitchen table giving updates on our very different, and very intertwined lives. We left around two o'clock--so tired, but refreshed and happy.

Friday, I do not remember very well. Must have been a sugar hang-over.

Saturday, Meghan and Ruthie and I drove down (or over?) to McDonough, Georgia for Ben and Jenn's wedding. After scouring the roads for a Chic-fil-a and finding ourselves successful, we rolled into town around four o'clock to the "ring-ring" of my cell-phone with Andrew on the other end telling me that Dane's car was broken down on the side of the road. Three hours and some major scrambling later, we were sitting in the white wooden chairs at the outdoor wedding, listening to the rumble of thunder in the distance, and praying that the rain would hold off. A few people felt drops. Everyone eyed their neighbor, not knowing protocol on who gets up first in the event of a downpour at a wedding. We stayed glued to our seats with our shiny orange and pink programs shielding our hair and faces from the ever-increasing drip, drip, drops of rain. Andrew played two Shane & Shane songs in the drizzle. Enter mothers, grandmothers, groomsmen and bridesmaids. It's now raining, frankly raining. The bride and her father walked down the aisle strewn with pink rose petals in a pretty convincing downpour. She reached her groom, the pastor prayed, the rain stopped. And God is good.

The rest of the weekend we dealt with Dane's Jetta's clutch failure and Duane the tow truck driver. We drove home in Stella Dijon, the Avalon, all five of us packed in like sardines in my so-called--and so cool--luxury vehicle. I got home in the rain, again, and headed back out to meet Jenni and Brittany for supper. A last hurrah with some of my favorites before the move.

Today was a delightful day of trying to burn off the hot dogs, pizza, chocolate covered bon-bons and other delectable self-esteem killers from this weekend. Andrew and I walked the I'On trail--50 minutes of mosquitoes and dripping sweat. Yum. I cleaned my bathroom and spackled nail holes in my room, ready to erase forever the lime-green of my high school neon obsession. Back to eggshell for me.

Some praise: Ben and Jenn got married, Andrew got in-state NC tuition for grad-school, I got a call from my Duke contact about a possible job. Possible is good. Better than impossible. Thank you Lord.

The rest of the week will no doubt be filled with packing, organizing, down-sizing, upgrading, moving out, moving in, and moving on. Time to roll up our sleeves and get to work.