"Mawwage. Mawwage is what bwings us together today.”

Good news. It appears I will soon add "minister" to my list of credentials. The already impressive dossier contains notable items such as "able to sleep with my eyes open," and "most likely to sacrifice a small child for the opportunity to pen a best seller." Naturally, you see why my friends chose me to head the ceremony for what will be one of the most important and memorable days of their lives. 

Who are these people and what have they been drinking? "Craft beers" is the answer to the second part of that question and "Katie and Nathan" is the answer to the first. Blair and I met with them today over brunch at 1618 Seafood Grille to discuss ceremony details. 

I decided to bring my freelance skills to the table. Often when meeting with new clients, I ask them to throw out a few words that describe the feel they want for their website. It's useful because the super-serious CPA who I would have thought was all buttoned-up is suddenly tossing out words like, "family-friendly," "sincere," and "light hearted." So I wanted to know from Katie and Nathan, what words did they hope people would use to describe their ceremony? 

"Magical," Nathan responded promptly. 

Katie nodded. "Magical is the word he's been using," she said. 

I could feel Blair's "You are so screwed" smirk boring into me. I punched him under the table. 

"So, um, magical," I said. "Great. Absolutely. Any other words come to mind?"

They looked at each other they way only two people insanely in love can and gave a mutual shrug before turning back to me. "No, magical is pretty much it," they said. Then they both stared at me with big trusting Bambi eyes. 

Oh. My. GOD. 

So listen up, peeps. You are all on assignment. Text, e-mail or post on this blog your favorite moment from any wedding you've been to. What made you laugh, cry, smile? What words or moment stood out for you? What do you wish you had done differently in your wedding? 

Send me all the answers then tap your ruby slippers together three times, clap quickly if you believe in fairies and throw a penny down a well, making the wish each time that I give this adorable oh-so-in-love couple the magical wedding of their dreams. 

Cheers,

Dena

Daily Writing

For those who follow me on Facebook you've been privy to a barrage of recent posts that go like this: "Day 5 of writing complete," "Day 6 writing complete," "Still writing -- Day 7." It's a fascinating and revealing read into my daily life. I highly recommend it.  

Some of you have been kind enough to ask what it is I'm writing. The answer is everything. Literally. I have 5 or 6 novel ideas I've been half-heartedly toying with for years now, unable (or unwilling) to commit to just one. I've spent years feeling guilty over this. I'm a writer, right? So pick a book topic! Sit down! Write! 

And yet, nothing. 

Last September on our trip to Italy, I was talking to one of our guides about my seeming lack of ability to commit to writing a novel. "I'm afraid of picking the wrong novel to work on," I said. "The idea of putting all that time and effort into writing a book and then realizing late in the process that either the book won't work or isn't marketable..."

"Why choose?" he asked me.

His thought--which is brilliant-- was for me to write ALL the books. Work on whichever book I felt like tackling on a particular day. At some point, natural selection would take hold and I'd realize I had a stronger interest or  pull toward one project over another. But until then, everything was fair game.

So that's what I've been doing. Each day, sometimes for as little as 5 or 10 minutes but more often for 30 minutes or more, I've been randomly opening a novel file and hammering out a few paragraphs or plot points. I love it. All pressure to write THE NOVEL is removed because I still don't know which story I'll go with long-term. I look forward to my writing time because I'm just playing. And the thing is, what I'm writing is good. I'm seeing lots of gems when I go back and re-read it. 

At some point I'll organize all my random writings and pick a book (or two) to focus on but for now, I'm just happy to be writing. Daily. 

Cheers,

Dena

Conversations On The Run

I was running with a business colleague the other day and we were discussing bowel movements. That's right, bowel movements. What's more, it was a perfectly natural and easy conversation with no awkwardness or nervous laughter. Regular bowel movements hold a level of importance in a runner's life that's difficult to explain to non-runners. Discussing when you have them and what you do to encourage them is not an atypical conversation for a group of distance runners. 

But it struck me as funny, later, imagining this conversation in terms of two business colleagues who aren't runners.

"So, Tom, did you have a chance to look over that brief?"

"I meant to Bill, but I'm having stomach issues this morning. Usually I'm as regular as a German train but for some reason this morning, nothing. I can't figure out what's causing it. I ate a ton of roughage last night for dinner. I even drank an extra cup of coffee to get things moving. Guess I'll just have to tough it out in today's meeting."

"I feel ya. I went three days last week with no action. I felt so bloated. It was awful. When things finally started moving I was like, 'Hallelujah!'"

Snot rockets are another purview of runners. I think nothing of a friend, associate or new acquaintance pressing a finger to the side of their nose and pressure-shooting out a wad of snot in my presence. In fact, I consider it a personal failure that I've never mastered the art of the snot rocket. 

Add into the mix the fact that the endorphins associated with running encourage the sharing of deeply personal information (I know more about the job, marriages and failings of casual acquaintances then is probably healthy) and you've got an addictive sport. 

Whether it's talking about snot, bowel movements or the highs and lows of everyday life, I love the bond that forms between runners. 

I wouldn't trade it for a world of high-class conversations.

Cheers,

Dena