Dearest Readers,

I apologize for my unprecedented absence. I have certainly missed a beat, or two or Bridge. My brain is consumed by silly details like turquoise chiffon sashes, stamps, envelopes and reservations. But don’t get me wrong; I love my fiancé with all my heart. I love the idea that we’re going to have a “big day” and am looking forward to it. But I also love the fact that I won’t have to think about flower girl baskets, veils and who is pissed at who so as not to sit them together. Just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean you automatically have event-planning skills. “Sure, pair a salmon dish with a raisin log! Why not!?” or “People won’t need directions, doesn’t everyone have a GPS?” or “Do you think we’ll really need to get a babysitter for Tyler? He’s 34 and the bar doesn’t stock whiskey.”

Looking ahead, I can’t wait to spend money at Ann Taylor Loft and to draft up plans for dreams that I’m too lazy to commit to. It’s going to be great. I may be absent for a little while longer. But until then, I’ve left you one more brief post.

Time with Frank and Ada:

On Good Friday, my mom and I were driving to the mall to look for shoes. Ada started to get hungry. My mom was diagnosed with diabetes which means she needs to eat certain foods at specific times of the day. Although my mom claims that she doesn’t have diabetes, “the doctors don’t know what they’re talking about,” she said, as she craves a hot fudge shake from Dairy Queen. To her dismay, I wasn’t going to stop because I knew she’d make me get out of the car to get it for her even though I was already driving. “Oh come, on, you can run in quicker than me.” I refused to stop, but I offered her some potato chips. Here’s what plays out next:
I can’t eat potato chips.
Why not? You always eat them.
It’s Good Friday – I can’t eat in between meals.
And you want a shake? That’s eating in between meals.
No that’s different.
Oh really? How?
Because a shake is liquid and you can have liquid in between meals but you can’t have food.
Ma, a shake IS food.
No, it’s not. Anyway. Oh look, did you see how they put up a new street by the high school? There was too much traffic before. Look how dirty my clean car got once your dad drove it to the men’s club meeting. DISGUSTING.

You’re in the right place, don’t worry. The Bridge Beat has a new look. Just like The Bridge – it’s fresh and funky. I hope it entices my loyal 3 readers. Thank you. Read on and enjoy the new landscape.