Just passing another anniversary of our wedding, I often think about the big day. Historical buildings, a trolley, flowers keeling over on the eve of the wedding (in a "fridge" that was actually a "freezer"), guests taking someone else's date home for the night...but really, I often think about these people (see photos below).

One of the "blessings" of hosting your wedding at a landmark (Landmark Center, Saint Paul, MN) is that it stays open to the public.

Apparently, some time after the tables were set (complete with scattered disposable cameras), a few tourists wandered in.  This lovely family has been saved on my hard drive for all these years and they are the only wedding guests I cannot identify.  Scrolling through pictures just last night, I realized that I have a captive audience who could help me identify them.

If you have seen these faces around town, or out of town for that matter...I should properly thank them for playing a role in my wedding; and see how the kids are doing.  It's not the material gifts that count at a nuptial event, it's simple showing up and giving your support.  (I can tell these people were supportive by the thumbs up in exhibit 4.)

Not only was this a lovely surprise when I developed the film (yes, in those days film was processed manually), they have given me an idea should I ever come across a stray disposable.

What's the deal?  Axel and I flipped to channel 2 this morning, with hopes of peace and quiet, a breakfast filled with eating and counting...instead, we discovered that PBS has launched a new show called "Dinosaur Train".

Don't worry, I tell myself, these shows are only a half hour and we will return to our regularly scheduled programming in a short while.

This was not the case.  Dinosaur Train has been on all morning!  Axel shows no interest in these new computer animated friends and quite frankly, the show is monotonous and dull.

Who do I need to talk to about this?  3 hours strong of Dinosaur train and if it plays through the Sesame Street time slot, I am calling Barack Obama himself.

What about a mothers right to T.V?

Having denied myself the privilege of professional hair care due to budget constraints, I have taken on the task of cutting my own hair. It hasn't been colored or cut professionally in over a year and a half. I did have to splurge this week however because the hair thickening product that I thought could be nixed...turns out I really need.

Not willing to spring for the $36 Bumble and Bumble thickening product that I absolutely ADORE, I stopped in a beauty supply store and settled on a $14 bottle of the brand name "Rusk" - thickr.

I brought it home and it sat on the counter since I had no need to shower at the time; but right as I was going to bed, I thought I would take a sniff.  Not sure why I needed to sniff a chemical product, but craving a salon/spa experience, I opened up the top.

With one simple wave in front of my nose, about 10,000 memories flooded my conscience.  The Rusk I now had in my possession smelled JUST LIKE "ck ONE".  ck meaning Calvin Klein of course and 'ONE' being the name of a fragrance that I couldn't get enough of in the 90's.  I can picture the boys I crushed on, the girls that didn't invite me to birthday parties and the ads where I caught my first glimpse of men in low rise denim sans shirt.  

ck ONE was the definition of sex appeal for me and possibly the first unisex fragrance to be marketed to a younger audience.  Just like other popular trends, I was denied a bottle of this liquid sexiness, but wasn't stopped from peeling open the fragrance flaps in Vogue and desperately rubbing the scent on my clothes.

ck ONE advertised to the "the only one" and the commercials play in my mind as if I am watching them live.

The next day, I took just one more whiff to make sure I hadn't dreamt the smell...nope, definitely not of my imagination...it's got that unmistakable scent.

Was it a twist of fate that I should choose this brand from hundreds of others, or is it just luck that with every shower I get to think of the past, feel confident in the present and look to the future with HOT hair.

Was ck ONE "my only one"?  Probably not, but it must have been something, or that scent would have been shelved in my mind with the rest of the 90's long ago.

I have a tiny face.  It's true, the actual diameter of my face is about the same as Axels.  When my body is at average weight, my face looks petite...if I gain so much as a pound, my face appears miniscule.

The reason I bring this up is because it's the reason behind my mothers constant ragging on the size of my sunglasses.  She is always saying how large my glasses are...but truthfully mother; I get them from the "average - just above child sized glasses - section".  I AM AWARE of what the trendy HUGE glasses would do to my face!

Anyhow, today we, the dog, Axel and I, were strolling to the post office after nearly an entire day of zero adult conversation and lots of thoughts in my head.  At the moment we reached the summit of the large hill on our walk, my sweaty nose got me thinking; "does the combination of my sweaty nose, tiny face and large sunglasses mean I could lick my sunglasses?"  

Seriously, if you feel the need to commit me after that last sentence, be my guest.  Cooked meals and a padded room sound glorious about now.

Anyhow, one can't just think thoughts like this without acting on them, so of course I tried to lick my glasses.  I did not succeed.

My friends, I did not stop there.  I slowly inched my glasses down the slope of my nose until at last I could lick them.  I would have enjoyed a sick sense of satisfaction if it weren't for the porch full of people to my right, whom I didn't notice until after the above crime was committed.

How crazy I must have looked to them.  In the time since my walk, I have contemplated taking a picture of myself in the licking position just so you all could enjoy the scene the rest of Mankato had today, but I thought I would "google" an image instead.

Let it be known, that of the billions of images on "images.google.com", there is NOT ONE of a person licking their sunglasses.  I stand alone.