Spent the weekend in Ohio, at the wedding of Dean, one of my two remaining friends from my high school. My other remaining friend was the best man, whose wife is also pregnant and due a month and a day after I am. I was the reader, and my rendition of the “Apache Wedding Poem” moved Dean's stepsister to tears.

Damn, I'm good.

I got my hair done before the ceremony (in hopes of distracting the guests from my ever-blossoming belly. And I got to meet a mess of Dean's aunts and cousins, so I feel like I spent the weekend at my own family reunion after a memory-decimating head injury. And the lesbian vampire joke I've been saving for this very occasion, which I told to Dean's stepfather at the rehearsal dinner, had made the rounds to all the family by the reception, and everyone groaned, which is what they should have done because it's the dirtiest joke I think I've ever known.

But the best part of the whole weekend (at least, the in-public part of the weekend) was when one groomsman said to another, in reference to me, “I don't care what anybody thinks. I think she's sexy as hell.” And then the other groomsman agreed!

Swoon. Thank you, Gap Maternity!