Lockdown Guilt and Imposter Syndrome

As previously stated in my last blog: at the beginning of June I had a bit of a wobble. When I state a bit, I lied... I actually had quite a big one. Unusual for me. I haven’t felt that low in quite a few years and it was particularly disconcerting not to feel like I was going to pull out of it anytime soon. Perspective is everything and despite the fact that really, my situation isn’t really that bad; the wobble was very much needed. Quite rightly so, nothing of what I’m living had I signed up to: I’m living in another country with no support (I have the odd friend, but my existence here isn’t particularly the most social in the beginning, let alone after lockdown started! My own choice as I’m quite the introvert but also, my good friends are actually stuck in other countries waiting to return to Egypt!)  My husband is stuck in the back end of the Middle East with no way of returning, my parents confined to their house back in the UK and me stuck in between. For a few weeks even the animals were beginning to test my patience. I’ve taken on a lot with Cervantes, my street cat project. (I’ll write about his story another time.. let’s just say it’s not been particularly easy and he’s very time consuming.)

A few people at the time had suggested that I get one of the repatriation flights back, but they seem to miss the point that El Gouna is my home. This isn’t a holiday, this has been my home and my life for over four years - I cannot just jump ship back to the UK without consequences. My life here, my cats and my dog would still exist. It’s amazing how easily people just assume that I am still just on a giant holiday here. I guess perhaps you don’t really “get” it until you visit and realise that this is life. My life. 

I got through the wobble, obviously. I still credit the kayak as one of the things that grounded me. However, now I’m almost experiencing the opposite - Lockdown Guilt, with a pinch of enjoyment? I’m still stuck. Dan is still stuck until god know’s when, each month we promise ourselves and hope that the outcome will change and yet it seems to change for the worse at the moment. We were meant to have spent June together. Instead we just sit here and every day count the hours, chat about day to day annoyances with not much to report back on. I miss him something chronic, but I’m a lot more at ease with it now. Don’t get me wrong.. I hate every damn moment of it, but I can’t change it, all I can do it sit and support and try and keep positive. He has his own issues - mostly revolving stupidity of others, and major fallout thanks to being in a ridiculously poor country rifled in Corona, but that’s another story and not mine to tell. (I’d love to though, his anecdotes keep me in stitches for hours). 

I’ve started to revel in being here, doing my own thing and from that I’ve started to feel guilty. I don’t know if it’s the Endorphins or having a purpose, but my feelings have bucked up a lot. I’ve got deeply into exercise the past few weeks. The Twitter posse, mostly the running community have been a bit of a lifeline on top of the kayaking. Mel, Myrna, Paul, Chris, Darren et al... you’ve all been a major help to me. Your positivity, guidance (and jokes!)  have really kept me focused into challenging myself which is normally what I shy away from. I’ve somehow managed to do a full 180 degree turn, and using that misery against something positive. Now I just need to keep it up. I also have the added bonus that my brother, Neil is now a running addict. (Words I thought that I would NEVER write). He’s lost a tonne of weight, got fit and we have a promise of a half marathon together in 2021. Neil and I are particularly close and I’m beyond excited to be able to share this with him, I’m quite simply over the moon actually. I then in turn feel guilty for actually feeling positive in such a shoddy time - I know it’s all situational and people are suffering and then there’s me trotting along just happy to be doing the bits that I’m doing. The introspective, anxious mind will never just simply let me enjoy a moment, will it?

I joined something called Run Around the World - It’s a split team effort to try and “virtually” Run around the world over the whole of July. I chose Team North, (choices were the obvious East, West, South) the only time that I’ll ever be a Northerner but pretty much all of my friends were in this group already so it made sense. I’ve been running on a treadmill pretty much ever since. I also shall complete the Race to the Stones Marathon today. 42km in 6 days...not bad for a wannabe runner. 

I call myself a wannabe runner, as I definitely have a touch of Imposter Syndrome, I don’t “feel” like a runner. I’m not entirely sure what I’m meant to feel like to actually BE a runner. I feel like someone dabbling in it... but I guess at some point that will change and I’ll feel like I’m actually doing it as a choice and not as not as a force to push myself ( but isn’t that what running is about?) I feel a little daunted by the twitter running community, everyone seems too have amazing race photos, cracking heart and breathing rates and personal bests that I could only ever dream of, but I guess that comes with time. They’ve never been anything but kind and inclusive despite the fact I’m so ridiculously new to all of this. I just have moments of blind panic that I’m not really anything vs these running giants and I’m wasting people’s time. 

I’m running in constant heat either outside (rarely now it’s Summer) or inside at the gym (the air con is only on 25c!) so I’m hoping that this will bring me in good stead as and when the temperatures drop and I can pick up my pace a bit. I guess also, after all the years of being sick and constant illness I’ve never really thought I’d fall into the category of being an athelete of sorts. I don’t feel good enough to be that, despite the fact it’s obvious that somehow I’m finally able to push myself to run 10km, with the aim of much, much more. I always feel like I’m in the recovery stage, not out the other side - always expecting the next fall. I know you could argue that attitude can set me back, but after over 20 years of suffering you kind of just expect it. A psychologist somewhere could probably make wonders out of my mind set, but instead, for now, my musings are put down on my blog instead.

Maybe when I can finally enter proper races, in person and join Park Run back in the UK I might feel a little differently. It also probably doesn’t help that I’ve pretty much run out of running kit. I’m down to two pairs of shorts and one running top. Even my sports bras are beginning to give up the ghost. So if you see any selfies/ photos of me wearing a pink running top, I promise it gets washed every single day! I’m hopefully due a family visit in August, of which I’ve already ordered a tonne of new kit to their house to bring with them.

Anyway,  it’s now 5am and the sun is coming up. It was one of those mornings where sleep was lost on me. Time to get out, walk the dog and then go kill the rest of that marathon. Come on Summer, I’m ready for you so that we can start back to the new normal again. Chop chop.

Team Submerged, Halloweekend, ZombieBall and BEYOND!

When I first left for Egypt, I jokingly sat down with the rest of the BayPromoTeam and laughed. "By the way Gerald, would you mind if I created an El Gouna PromoTeam? " - At the time it was purely in jest. (To my good fortune he also told me to crack on...) Little did I know that actually, this was a genuine possibility.

El Gouna isn't unlike Herne Bay, both on the seaside with a beautiful coastline and plenty of activities for locals and visitors. Swap your London weekend visitors for Cairo peeps and Bob's your Uncle.. Red Sea Riviera vs Kentish Riviera! Admittedly the types of residents differ, but considering I'm on a different continent it's not particularly surprising. I loved being part of something bigger, the events that I helped form and work at changed my outlook on life and what I want to be doing. I've always had a warm fuzzy feeling watching people smile and enjoy themselves.

A few months ago I was chatting with Dan on how they don't really seem to have events here. Well they do, but not really anything that brings community together. There's events for the tourists, the all inclusive and then there's events put on by the mainstay locals; such as Hoda from the Clubhouse (Highly recommended by the way!) I just sat there one day and thought why the hell not? Kids love Halloween. Adults love Halloween.. let's do this! Therefore the next thing I know, Halloweekend and ZombieBall were born and we've been working our butts off ever since! The team has grown and now between four of us, we're making this happen!

Admittedly, Submerged Egypt isn't exactly the El Gouna PromoTeam, but we've got the same form of basis. We're an event company who will eventually put money back into the area with the formation of an NGO to help the local children.

Orascom and El Gouna themselves have been  amazing with helping us with our vision and day by day we're getting there. On Friday 28th October, we have a marina music festival in the Abu Tig Marina for early evening, followed by the ZombieBall 2016 taking place in the New Marina till early hours of the morning. Then the next day, Saturday 29th October we have a full afternoon of events for families including a new World Record event to form the Largest Human formation of a Pumpkin, a free Abu Tig or Treat walk around the marina for kids and then finishing off with a street disco for all.

Back to why we're doing this all... there's a serious amount of underprivileged children here who have no idea how to swim, let alone know what the Red Sea is about and how we should be looking after the corals and marine life. Our aim is to create an academy of sorts, education through the medium of water sports and conservation. From this, we want to ensure that the Red Sea is looked after for the future. Children who'd never normally get the chance.. will have big opportunities to learn to swim, to scuba dive and to kite surf their way into the future. There's one hell of a lot of potential talent for future sportspersons. Why not start when they are young and let them enjoy themselves?!

So yes.. these are happening.. spread the word because this is a big thing for me. I want my town to be proud to know that from the little acorn that was BayPromoTeam just five years ago has not only become so very successful in putting Herne Bay on the map.. it's spread to another country where I'm hoping that that warm fuzzy feeling, those smiles and enjoyment will be repeated again and again by others.

www.zombieballegypt.com

www.halloweekendfestival.com

www.baypromoteam.co.uk

#zombiesarecoming #zombieballegypt2016 #elgouna #hernebay #baypromoteam #mygouna #spookygouna

Fear of flying?

Now I'm never one to admit when I have a fear of something. Unless it's small spaces it's rare when something bothers me. 

Now, writing this post 36,000ft in the air it's sprung to my mind how much older I am, and therefore how much more aware I am that life passing me by. If the plane dropped out of the sky right now, that would, be it. The end, c'est fini.

Not to curse the rest of my flight but it feels kind of odd to look out to the jet engine, which I happen to over viewing from my surprisingly comfortable Easyjet seat and think that that particular engine is keeping tonnes upon tonnes of heavy metal and not to mention the human, living cargo alive as we motor on across the continent. Caught myself staring out at that engine for a good five minutes in wonderment of what the human race has managed to create over the years.

I love flying as a general rule. As a child I always used to sit next to my father and he'd hold my hand at take off just encase we didn't lift off the ground (Great bout of confidence in survival there, Dad.) Dad has no fear of flying at all. He enjoys the same rush as I do from life, always happy to jump onto the next adventure. Whereas my Mother always had this feeling of danger throughout. Don't get me wrong, she's a happy enough flyer but always quite cautious. She'll always spend the  week before flying a little uptight, however she's got the same fear of small spaces that I have. As much as I love flying I can totally see her point of view, I hate the thought of spending 5+ hours cooped up in a tiny seat with someone sitting next to me who happens to have a knack for elbowing my kidneys ever ten minutes.

I always find it funny, when I leave to go on holiday, Mum will ask me to send her a text upon landing to let her know I'm safe. The generic response from me being that if I hadn't landed safely, I'm quite sure she'd hear about it before I did!

I have found that, recently my survival instinct has kicked in. When I mean survival instinct, I mean the fact my brain kicks into thinking that this flight could be the last one I ever take. Morbid, eh? Such happy thoughts!  I have no idea where this has stemmed from, but it's a constant when I've flown in the past few years. I wish I knew why and as I said before, I can only put it down to having this awareness of age and life. Maybe the thought that things can be so sudden. The world is so very big, especially as you look down from this height. Makes you realise just how insignificant you really are,

On the brighter side, I am on my way for a bit more of the good side of living... Scuba heaven. Even ticking off the SS Thistlegorm from my bucket list. If that's not something to live for, I don't know what is :)

Signing off. 

J L Edwards.

Seat 8A

EZY3031

2013? Bring it on!

Where to start? I normally don't bother with resolutions; they get bent and broken so easily.Instead I'm going for hopes and aspirations, after last year being a bit of a big cock up, it'll be interesting to see how these pan out. A new, fresh start:

1. I'm going to support my Mum and watch her kick the big "C"'s arse. We're half way there but she has still got a long time to go. I know I cannot cure it, but a positive attitude and help when I can is a must. As with most people, we're close to our parents. Mum and I created a strong bond over the time I was ill. Fighting all the way, and I'll be there with her.

2. Learn new things and have different experiences. (Without being alcoholically challenged!) Perhaps finally learn an instrument, or go back to playing the piano and develop my skills. Go back to learning another language. It's been too long since I've done something practical, I enjoy learning and I should utilise this further. I now have the time, rather than watching films, or sitting in the pub I will make sure that I will be proactive with expanding my horizons. (Admittedly signing up to a 200 mile bike ride was a little bit of a crazy moment, but that will be.... Interesting, a challenge??)

3. Keep my head down and work hard. I have a new job starting soon, it's a chance for a whole new career and life. So many options from it.. Thou shalt not cock it up. I want my own place and to prove things can be accomplished on my own.

4. Support Herne Bay in any way, shape or form that I can do and not just on a Council level. So many events to plan that are all just going to get bigger and better as the year goes on. I'm looking forward to my 2nd year in the BayPromoTeam. They've become a second family, They are all crazy in their own ways but what we've managed to accomplish is totally amazing, long may that continue (and Gerald's amazing costumes!)

5. Dive the US Thistlegorm. I've been to Egypt god knows how many times, I miss out. This isn't a hope, this is happening.  My idol Jacques Cousteau discovered it, I need to do this wreck. I'm back to Egypt on my own this time. I'm quite excited about this. The Thistlegorm is a war grave, a very sad wreck from 1941, but it's probably one of the most interesting wrecks ever. Full cargo.

6. Last and final one, to learn to be happy for myself and myself alone. This is going to be the hardest one, but against 6 months ago, there's no comparison as to what I feel about my life. I just must look to the next 6 months and see what I can accomplish. As Mr Shakespeare once said, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women are merely players". Time for me to take a main role.

To the family, friends and crazies who seem to like hanging about with me, thank you for everything. XX

Life, 2013, bring it on. I'm ready and waiting! Just let me get out of bed and over this damn hangover first...

The great thing about hitting a low...

.. is that there's always going to be a high afterwards. Well, I can hope can't I? Having one of "those" days this week. I'm not the negative type but I'm known for having "those" days every so often. I'm not actually on about PMT or women's problems when I refer to this all. So before you get freaked out, icky and leave my blog I'll explain; tis more of a bit of whinge on my blog but hey.. It's always good to talk!

This morning, I got to bed quite a bit past 2am after a busy night (No alcohol involved might I add) . Set my alarm late so that I could get that extra 20 minutes snooze time. I struggle to get out of bed most mornings. I'm quite vocal on the fact I LOVE my bed...but no oh no. ..7am.. Ker-ching! I'm awake, very crabby and knowing that I could get another hour's sleep is not helping the mood. From this moment on I just know life's going to side against me for the rest of the day. I might as well go to work a few minutes earlier, just because I can, then its over and done with. So up I get...  Dress for work. The normal routine.. A tired and grumpy Jen office bound. It's like a scene from Dawn of the Dead....uuuuurrgh.


I'd forgotten a few boxes of worky stuff in my other car so thought it would be clever to take the the DS for a run to offload it. What I'd forgotten was that my office keys are on Eric (The Proton's) set, so I soon to get to work burdened down with boxes to discover that my colleague is off for the day and I have no way of getting into the office. Yippee!


Well, now logic dictates that getting to and from Herne Bay to pick up my other keys would take about half an hour. My other colleagues were due about the same time so I made the executive decision to sit on the little wall beside the office and wait. In the meantime I discover that my phone is dead. I was going to charge it when I got into the office, but of course, that didn't work out... HUFF.. I can't even text! So now I'm locked out my office and unable to call the bossman to let him know where I am and why I'm not answering the damn office phone which I can hear ringing over and over on the other side of the wall. 


By now I'm about to commit homicide unless I get my caffeine fix. Parking had been difficult; I had to walk quite a way to the office. Couldn't be bothered to trudge the boxes back to the car so I head off down into the town in search of my drug of choice, laiden with said boxes. Only discover I left my debit card at home and the only change I have on me is a EURO!! ONE BLOODY EURO!! I grumpily trudge back up to my wall now in a stinking huff. Not knowing the time and half wanting to cry. (I know, I'm a drama queen).
I remember that I have my Ipod in my bag (Yippee!)  and discover that, once again, the battery has nearly failed (Blast!) . I write a sarcastic facebook status (as one does) and then that decides to give up on me too.


Sitting on the wall I contemplated life, space and the possibility of evil blue chickens. Then what feels like a day later, one of my colleagues turns up. I realise when I get into the office that she's actually running mega late so I wasn't going crazy.  So near enough an hour later I'm finally at my desk, cuddling my coffee mug and doing a fine Gollum impression "My Preeeeeeeecious". A few sips of caffiene heaven later I discover my internet is dead to the world. Fortunately it only lasts 20 minutes. I troubleshoot and work my IT magic only for my work email to go up the swanney.  Wonderful. Simply Wonderful.


The last of my woes on this fine Thursday morning.. I get up to make another drink to see weird whitish marks on my chair. I take a closer look to realise it had transferred from my skirt which now has a lovely pebble dash effect. Turns out that sitting on that wall, contemplating life wasn't so clever when it was covered in Seagull crap!


Happy Thursday everyone. This is my saga so far... I've officially given up on today. My bed is calling me. However, just remember what doesn't kill you can only make you stronger and hopefully my day will pick up! ;-) 

A Little Bike ride

Soooo... I got my bike out today. It's been about 3 years. Two flat tyres.. Quite a bit of rust and lo and behold needing a little bit of TLC. (A little bit meaning quite a lot!)


I pop round to Daddy Edwards' magical mystery shed to see what he can do and within 10 minutes my tyres were blown, the chain oiled and, well, the rust is still there but I don't mind. I'm not perfect.. why should my bike be too? A little rust adds character. I swear it.


It also turned out I shouldn't bother to use my back brake.. Which was fineeeeee;  by the time I'd squeezed on the front brake the noise factor made sure that anyone within a 300 meter radius knew I was there. Handy when you don't have a bell! But highly embarrassing when everyone who sees you looks at you as if you're a public nuisance (or nutter!)


I leave my parents to pop home and grab my drinks bottle and a jumper et al. Climbed on, wiggled the handlebars and set off... only to brake at the end of the drive by the pavement and nearly end up on the floor. Making things that little bit worse; two youngish lads walk down on said pavement, sniggering away at my uselessness. Nice start Jen; weak legs and not a clue how to ride.... Whoever said that you never forget how to ride a bike needs a short sharp punch. It's lies. I looked a muppet.


So, after collecting my bits and bobs... off I went. I live the "Kings Hall end" of Herne Bay. Not even 2 minutes walk to the beach. I like it that way. Natural outstanding beauty on my doorstep. I don't think I could ever live away from the seaside now. It gets under your skin. That and of course, pubs are on the seafront. This aids my love just a little bit more really.


I headed towards Hillborough, a nice straight route for the "learner" cyclist. I'd only gone out to test my skills and to see how the bike faired. Next thing I know I was there and not wanting to turn back. Dog walkers and cyclists were out all round. I couldn't blame them. It's been such a glorious day. 

I thought it would be rude not to try out the new Oyster Bay Trail to Reculver. I trudged up the hill at Hillborough (walking.. I'm not that fit!) and had great fun on the new track around Bishopstone Glen. I kind of wanted to stop and do it all again as it reminded me of being a kid with those kind of "go faster" hills. Before you say it.. My brakes made sure everyone knew I was coming round the bends!


Next thing you know I'm over hill and down dale in front of the beautiful towers. The sea was like a mill pond. If it wasn't the fact it was only March I'd be out waterskiing. But hey ho.. That's one for later in the year.


By now the adrenaline was running high. I'd joked earlier that I'd stop at Minnis Bay for a pint. Little did I actually realise I'd manage it. Yes.. I cycled straight past the towers, resisted the urge for a swift one at the Ethelbert and straight on track to the Minnis. (Everyone's got to have a target.. By then it was a pit stop with a pint!)


I got to the Minnis in 50 minutes flat. I was so chuffed at myself; until I came to a halt and realised I couldn't quite make it off the bike. My legs had turned to jelly. I also had a slight ache in the gluteus maximus region that wasn't there before. (I think I managed to put that very politely!)


I laid out on a picnic table bench with some amazing music in my ears (Seth Lakeman, Frank Turner and U2, if anyone's interested) and disappeared into a nice daze for half an hour whilst slowly supping on a nommy pint of Gadd's whatnot. By then I was slightly tempted to call the parents to see if they'd pick me up.. Jelly legs had really hit in. Also by then, my pint had begun to take effect. Lazy days by the sea; you can't really go wrong.


I started to people watch; only to find a chap walking up on what could only be described as one gigantic horse onto the beach. By the time he'd got him onto the sand and let him play in the water I think I'd fallen in love. (To be fair, I couldn't see what this chap looked like.. by my god he could ride. That was enough. I think I got up from my bench and stood royally perving for a good five minutes before I realise what I'd actually been doing.) He then decided to go for a royal gallop up the beach. By then my enthusiasm for heading back had been spiked by wanting to watch this man on such an elegant horse. So I got on my bike and followed him up on the grass. Of course I couldn't catch up but I did manage to take a couple of shots of such a magnificent sight, I'll only put one up as so not to bore you all:

I didn't want to leave. It was pretty mesmerising. I spent the next part of my journey wishing I had a horse rather than a bike. Although I probably would ache far, far more.


By then, my energy levels had peaked so I headed back towards the towers. Not that I could see them. A haze had dropped over the seafront and gave this eerie glow with the sun trying to break through. I pottered back across and took another photo. Get me with my camera phoneyness! I was quite chuffed with this as I think it does the haze that I'd described some justice.


Anywho, I managed to make it all the way home. I was very proud. I had to stop on the lovely green patch after the towers. My poor legs really couldn't take the up hill battle. My glutes had begun to ache just that little bit more but I still managed to have the greatest of fun down the Hillborough track. Got a fast speed up and wooosh... Almost as fun as being at Thorpe Park! 


I'm home now. It took me just over two hours with my pint stop. I'm about to pour a bath with TONS of aromatherapy oils in as I have a great feeling I shall be needing the 'therapy part.  


I'm meant to don 4 inch heels for my friend's 21st birthday party tomorrow night. Good luck to that one me thinks!

Don't take life too seriously; Nobody gets out alive any way.

I was on the phone to my mum this morning when it dawned on me that tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of my Grampy passing, and a week since I had to lose my beloved Cookie. Within seconds I was once again in flood of tears. (I must sound like an emotional screw up to all who read this after my last post!)


My mind cast back onto who I've lost; especially the few in the last few months too, namely my amazing Uncle John. I couldn't help the tears; it never gets any easier, does it? They go and yet we're the ones left behind in pain. I've never dealt with loss well. I hate the idea of not existing any more; which is hilarious really considering everyone technically is a drop in the ocean of life.. It's not exactly like we make the biggest impact.


It's days like this a few old sayings pop into my head: "Don't take life too seriously; nobody gets out alive any way" and it's oh so true. We're born, we die.. perhaps we should try to enjoy the little bit we have in between (Thank you for that one Max Heinze). 


The philosophy behind my thinking could go on for hours here; is life what you make it? Is everything set in stone? Have I made the right decisions so far or will I be destined to make more bad or good choices? Should I buy chocolate or bananas for breakfast? (Actually, that one's a given!) Then I realise I've sent my head into a spin with all of this and develop a headache. (This happens on a regular occasion, trust me.)

Isn't she fantastic?!

My Grandmother turned 90 last year. (There's exactly 64 years and a day between us) She's awesome for her age but she carries this air of sadness; She's lived a long an full life but she's watched so many pass and yet she's still here. She misses Gramps terribly but at least she has all of us around her for company.  To think that I'm just over quarter of her age makes me think there's a hell of a lot more out there still to do. The question is, what do I want next? How do I go about getting it? I guess I don't know what life has in store for me yet; I keep forgetting that life goes on and that I'm only 26.  


The one thing I have decided; Life is one big question and it never, ever gets an easier. (Especially if you're involved in politics!!!)


Live in the now; life is far too short to worry about what you did yesterday, or perhaps what might go wrong tomorrow as you may never get that chance to see it.


"Sh*t happens.. it's how you deal with it that counts" - Quote Jennie Edwards 2012.

Wedding Belle Du Jour?!

Well that's it! C'est fini! My life is complete and officially over. 


As the old saying goes... "All I refuse, and thee I chuse"


My maid of honour dropped this pearl of wisdom just before I walked up the aisle: "Mrs" is actually a derivative of "Mistress", which in turn didn't mean a bit on the side but more "Head of the Household". This made me giggle, but also made me question which one I'd prefer!



The registers signed, and we now have an official piece of paper to prove it. Does this mean my life is over? The ball and chain dragging behind me as the shackles of life tie me down. Never to speak to anyone again as any title but someone else's property?  Does a ring on my finger and name change really mean that much? These questions have been swirling in my mind for the past few weeks.



To be fair, I'm not exactly a feminist. Yes; I'm quite happy to be the cook and cleaner; I believe it's lovely to have a man open a door for me or buy me a drink but that's about as far as it goes. Anything else and I get antsy. The thought of being "owned" brings a chill to my spine. It's like being compared to a car, or a house and I'm not the materialistic type...


It took me till this morning to realise; it dawned on me, so long as I'm known as Jennie last names are irrelevant. I am the master of my own life, I am still just me! It's funny how others opinions can really get to you. Life will carry on just as it did before. We had a lovely party to celebrate the "officialness" of us in front of family and friends but overall, it's been official for many years. 


We made it through the chaos and madness of a wedding and out the other side. I have a husband who loves and (tries to) understand(s) me, even with my quirks. Therefore technically making him crazy himself.......


C'est certainement la fin... Well, of this chapter anywho.