We survived Thanksgiving.  Just barely.

Insane as we are, we decided to do a whirlwind trip of the south.  We left Lakeville around 1 p.m. on Wednesday and arrived in Wilmington, N.C., around 3 a.m. Thursday.  My mother was awake to greet us, unsurprisingly.

Surprisingly, we only slept until 8.  I think I had too much caffeine on the trip down.  James slept for the last four hours or so, so I guess he just had enough sleep. My aunt, Pat, cooked an amazing dinner and we stuffed ourselves.

 We then went for a walk to try to find some turtles to feed.  We did eventually find turtles, but they must have had their own Thanksgiving dinner because they weren’t interested in our bread.  It was 70 degrees and sunny.  A slight wind picked up as the sun went down and my “southern” mother complained about how cold it was. 

The next day James and I were up early to hit some of the Black Friday sales.  We got my birthday present, a Bulova watch, for half price.  I also go some shoes and a new purse.  James got a fleece that he intends to wear under his puff vest in place of a true winter jacket.  He also got a new hard drive and a selection of winter beer.

 Dad took us to Pottery Plus, where he works, and I got decorations for our mantel.  Dad complains about coming home from work covered in glitter, but as it was my first true holiday shopping of the season, I would have been happy to roll around in the stuff.

We also stopped to pick up some giant pine cones.  I have visions of a forest of green glitter pine cone trees.

Saturday we left bright and early for Virginia, James’s family and another turkey dinner.  James’s brother and his family were able to join us, so James spent most of the time trying to charm his 2-year-old nephew.  (I love it when James looks at me and says, “Let’s get one.”  We know we’re a few years away from that, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.)

I fell asleep while James was playing Wii with his  brother and sister.  I drooled all over my arm and the chair I was sleeping in, but I don’t think anyone noticed me wiping the slobber from my face.

Another early morning and another round of goodbyes and we were on the road.  We were making good time and hoping to get home early when we hit traffic on 95, north of Baltimore.

And I mean, we hit traffic.  A bus changed lanes, which prompted a pickup truck to change lanes, which took up all the cushion space between us and traffic.The front of my car crumpled.  I said afterward that it did exactly what it was supposed to do:  the crumple zone took the impact and we were unharmed.

We pulled off the highway and spent about 30 minutes trying to find somebody who was open who could look at the car and tell us  whether we could drive it another several hundred miles.  We finally found a PepBoys, but the man there wouldn’t commit to anything.

We finally decided to risk it.  As James said, even if we break down, we’ll at least be a little closer to home.

We made it.  It was a very tense eight hours or so as we searched for alternate routes to avoid as much traffic as possible.  We were worried about overheating if the radiator was cracked.

My car is now sitting at the auto body shop, waiting for the insurance adjustor.  This was $500 I really wasn’t planning to spend, but it’s a small price to pay for getting home safely.

Reason number 154 why I love James:  He can hold it together when I can’t.  

I looked up from my work at about 5:20 last night and thought, “Where is James? I thought he wanted to leave early?”

I do a quick search and can’t find him, so I play on the Internet until he comes back to his office. We talk about going home. He says he has one more thing to do, then he’s ready.

I return to the Internet.

Next thing I know, he’s out the door. I frantically start shutting down things on my computer, grab my coat and bag and head outside. To see his tail lights as he pulls out of the parking lot.

He forgot me.

I come back inside and the few coworkers who remain tell me stories about how their husbands left their kids places. Or how they were left places as a kid. A couple offer me rides home, and soon I’m on my way.

I get home. James’s car is there, but mine is gone. And the house is dark. I thank my coworker for the ride and head inside. I try James’s cell phone, but it’s off.

If his car hadn’t been there, I would have just assumed he turned around to come get me. But where did he go with mine?

After about 10 minutes of nailbiting, he pulls in, in my car.

The windows in his car were fogging up and he couldn’t get them clear, so when he got home and realized I wasn’t there, he took my car back to come get me.

We haven’t yet discussed a suitable punnishment, but I think he may be doing the laundry for a while.

I was going to do a big post about my trip to be in the studio audience of Rachael Ray’s talk show, but I may be writing that up for the paper. When that comes out, I’ll link to it. If it doesn’t, then I’ll post the story here.

A close family friend died last week and it has been very hard the last day or so.

I was caught up on my novel, but then life happened.

Maybe it’s the beginning of winter, but James and I have been doing a lot of holing up in the living room with computer games, books, TV and fires. Neither of us is motivated to do much more.

Heather, my maid of honor, seems to be the only one motivated to work on wedding stuff at the moment. But it will get better once we go to Virginia and I get to drag Carolina, James’s sister and a bridesmaid, out to look at dresses.

I meant to write this yesterday but election ate my brain.

Yesterday was the 10-month mark. No save the dates. No immediate plans (see above re: election ate my brain).

Maybe something of substance tomorrow night or Friday morning, after Connecticut brides take over Rachel Ray tomorrow.

We really haven’t done anything on the wedding planning front this week. With Halloween and NaNo, our free time has pretty much disappeared.

James and I have both started novels, though I’m a bit farther in than he is (I have 3,398 words to his 357). He’s gotten more compliments on his excerpts than I have, though.

In an idle conversation, James asked me how I would feel if his novel was published and mine wasn’t. I said I’d be thrilled for him and I meant it. He thinks he is an awful writer, and that is just not the case. Yes, his work needs polishing, but whose doesn’t? That’s why God created editors.

I would probably have a pang or two of jealousy if he published something before me, but I really would be thrilled. I love to see him happy in a project, and I know that, were he to publish a book, it would be a happy project for him.

It struck me that this feeling, knowing how happy I would be for him, is an important one. It makes me know that I’m marrying the right person. I really love to see him excel.