wading through the copy

I’m taking Nora Ephron’s advice that everything is copy, you guys.

I mean, even the wagon wheel table came from somewhere! Sooner or later, my blabbering on about shoes that look awful and lyrics I don’t understand is going to yield gold.

Thanks for sticking around here until it does.

(Coming next week, as promised: more crap you couldn’t care less about, but now, with tulle! Also known as: the wedding recap. Brace yourselves.)

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