Hello, Gorgeous!

My photographer said that the 40s could be summed up with an “Oh, my!” and a skirt twirl.

…we’ll see if that comes through in the photos.

*I am wolf-whistling at myself as I look at this*
Thems victory post-war birthing hips.

Thems victory post-war birthing hips.

Basically, I was born in the wrong decade.  My hips belong in the 40s and 50s and my feminist brain belongs in the 60s and 70s.  And I think I lost my ovary in the Great War.

Anyone call for…..a pilot?!

This is like the best picture ever.  Brian’s inner child was squealing with joy like a greased pig who just outran Christmas dinner.  That, and he looks damn sexy.  Coolest part: there was no wind while this pic was taken.  Whaaaat.

I look forward to the professional images, because if we look this amazing on my iphone, we’re going to look like frickin old movie stars and shit.

Best part for me: I think I ended up looking a lot like my grandma.  Must unearth a picture of her for comparison.

Don’t forget, Psychos!  Send me emails to tell me how you’re gonna turn my online wedding to Shirtless Ryan Gosling into a drunken love circus!  I *just* found out he’s Canadian – what the what?!  I didn’t know they made beefcakes that beefy.   Deadline is March 31st.

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