This morning, I woke up to a Ford Explorer in my neighbor's backyard and a sack of softballs on my front porch. I guess it's going to be one of those weeks.

  Well, a few cracks are visible in the Castle of Wedding Stress (whatever the hell that means), but we're doing okay. With just over a month to go, there's sort of an air of urgency around here. The date and deadlines seem quite real now. Yeesh. But as far as the prep work goes, we're getting it done. I think we're actually ahead. Yeah, we still have a lot of little stuff to do, but we're gettin' there. In the last three weeks or so we have: bought our rings, fired off the invitations, met with the DJ, got our engagement pictures done, wrote up a ceremony plan, purchased attendants' gifts, met with the preacher again, got the marriage license, and mistakenly bought 1,400 square feet of mauve tissue paper (don't ask).
  For those of you out there who have not gone through a full-blown traditional wedding: be organized, be rational, and be drunk.

  Beth and I watched the movie Ray last night. Sure, it's a good movie and Jamie Foxx did a great job, but watching someone try to kick a heroin habit is hell on someone who hasn't had a cigarette in 48 hours.

  From the Glenn, You Have Your Dumb Moments Too department: I was lounging on the couch watching the Braves-Brewers game the other day and they showed a bunch of young guys in the crowd who had their bare chests painted. When they stood side by side, they spelled out "MUP #25." Huh? The announcers were talking about Braves' superstar Andrew Jones (who wears number 25), so I understood that part......but MUP? I looked over at Beth and asked her what the hell a MUP was.
  She calmly looked up from her laptop, squinted at the TV and said, "Sweetie, that's not a 'U' that's a 'V'.
  Oh. Yeah. That would make sense.