Friday night Todd and Heather invited us over to dinner to share their wedding wisdom with us; they pulled out books and magazines and told stories and generally freaked the shit out of us. (Thanks guys!) We did not know how much we did not know about all this wedding stuff. It now appears that we will either get married at City Hall, host the reception at McDonald’s and honeymoon at the Motel 6 by the truck stop off 95, or sell all that we have and go into hock for the next three centuries to host a reasonable wedding for our extended families.

Last night I was awake until about 2AM with my stomach in a knot after realizing that I had left the realtor’s commission out of my homebuying calculations—an expensive omission. We should still be able to do this, but our cushion in the bank after the papers are signed will be about one-third less than I was expecting. Ouch.

There’s a really funny link on Boing Boing about a married couple who have bought a 1920’s bungalow and are renovating it; they’ve posted a list of pictures of some of the crap the owners left behind and are asking readers to vote on whether it’s kitsch or crap.