Two Years Later: A Look Back at our October Wedding

I originally started this blog (or bi-annual update) when I was getting married, and while I posted a few photos, I feel like I haven't accurately portrayed my wedding day.

Fortunately for you, we are now two years into married life, meaning my posts won't have that gooey, newlywed glow.

You're welcome.

The setting: The Allandale Mansion. While the temperatures were dipping and my future mother-in-law was frantically texting me about buying space heaters, we couldn't have had a more beautiful morning. Looking back, I do wish we had scheduled the ceremony to begin at 12:30 rather than 11:30, but I was worried our guests would be hungry.

And just in case you didn't notice it in the previous photo, here's a close up of the HERONS that we said our vows in front of. Maybe I should start collecting heron figurines... is that a thing? Oh yeah, definitely a thing.

The details: I didn't really have a set "theme" for my wedding, and since I discovered Pinterest after my wedding (to my eternal sadness) I used other wedding blogs for my inspiration (RuffledBlog.com and OnceWed.com were some of my favorites).

One bit of decor I am especially proud of is the photo below. We framed photos of previous weddings in our families (including Matt's great-grandparents) and placed our mothers' weddings dresses on either side (and yes, I did try both of them on). A couple of weeks before the wedding, my mother found her mother's dress.

Ceremony & reception: I walked down the aisle to "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds, a song I've had reserved for my wedding ever since my best friend in middle school played it for me and said her brother's wife walked down the aisle to it. Props to that bride!

Since Matt felt that he could not put into words how much he loves me was too chicken to write his own vows, we ended up repeating the traditional vows, although "honor and obey" some how didn't make it into mine. (Totally slipped the preacher $5. No... not really.)

So you know how something always manages to go wrong the day of the wedding? Like, the caterer is late, or you singe your bangs off, or your flower girl rolls around in mud? Well, my "Oh no, please God, Say this isn't happening moment" came about about thirty minutes before the ceremony.

Matt and I had decided to forego unity sand for a Unity Cross. Basically, the outer part represents a man's strength, while the curly-cued inside represents the delicate woman who completes him. While explaining this to our preacher, I tried handing him the "bride" piece...

... only to watch it fall to the ground and break in two.

Fortunately, my best friend Kellie jumped into crisis handling mode and started tracking down wood glue. She had her mother stop at a Walmart and the two of them worked on that baby right up until I walked down the aisle AND it managed to make it through the ceremony.

Shout out to Kellie and Mrs. Keyes!

Thank. God.

Seriously- you all have no idea how hard my heart was pumping as he held that cross up. Can you imagine what would have happened if our UNITY cross BROKE during the ceremony? I'd have expected a crack of lightning across the sky or something.

Since we were married on a Sunday morning, we decided to have a brunch reception. In addition to the buffet, we had a custom omelette station and saved on alcohol by offering mimosas, bloody marys, wine and beer. And if you're the best man- screwdrivers. LOTS of screwdrivers. 

I'm not really a cake person, and Matt doesn't care for desserts at all (so he claims...) so instead I had some family members and close friends bake pies and other goodies while the caterer supplied a coffee cake. 

Daddy and I danced to "You'll Always be my Baby," and believe it or not, I don't believe I cried. In fact, I don't believe I cried once during my wedding. Chalk it up to not being able to take it all in.

My sister rapped her toast. RAPPED. HER. TOAST. 

Kellie caught the bouquet! 

And just in case no one warns you: bird seed HURTS and GETS EVERYWHERE. And by everywhere, I mean everywhere.

Our wedding photos were taken by Kyle Gregory of K.G. Capture. Some of my favorite shots are below.

Matt doesn't understand why he doesn't have a head in this photo- but I keep telling him it's because the flowers are the focus. And maybe his wedding ring... which he lost two weeks later.

And my end-all-be-all favorite photo of the whole day that I look at when I'm so exasperated with Matt because he put a spoon covered with Greek yogurt in the sink AGAIN instead of the dishwasher:

Stay posted for some excited news next week! I may actually have a reason to keep up with this blog a bit more!

House Tour

One of the challenges of moving from Knoxville to Arkadelphia was going from a 900 square foot townhouse with ample amounts of storage for all my Christmas decorations to a 600 square foot apartment with one closet of storage. 

My mother and I drove down together in her car, while Dad pulled a 14' U-Haul towing Matt's car. Meanwhile Matt had the cushy job of cleaning our old apartment while my parents and I spent the week moving into the apartment. 

I'm not going to lie, I was a bit hesitant about spending seven hours in a car with my mother. My sister likes to time how long Mom and I can be around each other before we start bickering (very lovingly, if I might add.) We normally last anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour.

Surprisingly, the drive down was flawless. No arguing, no turning the radio up so we didn't have to speak, and no white-knuckling the steering wheel while gritting my teeth. We listened to a couple of episodes of This American Life  (Mom: As long as its not like one of your father's British lectures. Me: It's called This American Life, Mom.) and just chatted the rest of the way. 

I wasn't incredibly impressed by the town as we made our way to the apartment, but I was trying to have a good attitude. Upon arriving at the apartment though, all I could think about was how in the world was I going to fit all our stuff in this tiny space.

I may have lied down on the floor in our bedroom and cried. 

Fortunately, my mother flew into crisis mode and began pointing out all the "great" things about the space. 

"The carpet feels so nice! And the manager said it was only six months old!"

"It's not as old as I thought it would be! Only ten years?"

"You have a fan in the living room? That's going to be nice."

"Look how spacious your bathroom is!"

Dad arrived one hour later and we began to unload. 

I now present to you: Our current Gross house.

Welcome Home?

We carted all those plants from Knoxville. I'm proud to say we didn't lose one, even though they look a little peaked now in the dry Arkansas weather. We don't really miss sitting on the patio since we have a GIANT WALL thing blocking our lovely view of the parking lot.

Living Room & Dining Area. We clearly haven't gotten around to hanging some art... or figuring out where my computer is going.

I may have had another breakdown when my father so graciously pointed out how uncomfortable our antique furniture from my Nana is. He may have compared it to medieval torture devices. I may be exaggerating. We typically put giant pillows on the back of the seats and then sit on those red pillows, but that wouldn't look nice in my pictures now would it?

View from the couch AKA our view most evenings. That door leads to our one closet of storage. I'm not going to open it, mostly because it overwhelms me.

Our "vintage" wedding certificate and some homemade art. That saying is very comforting when I'm pacing the five feet that makes up my living room.

The partition between the living room and kitchen.

Our kitchen. There is no logical spot for the trashcan as we have to move it to open the fridge OR if we want to open the dishwasher. Also, there are only TWO drawers. 

I actually like how this looks, especially the vintage pot holding my utensils. The first time I felt like I was home was when I put our little green tea kettle on the stove. Mom saw me tearing up and thought I was crying about the apartment again, but I just murmured that this place could feel like home after all.

I was pretty jazzed to find out we have a double sink. It's the little things, y'all. 

We use a sofa table/console table for some extra counter space and as my happy place in the mornings. 

That tall spinning console has been in the Bible family for at least a decade. My sister Suzanne bought it when she moved to college. It is incredibly heavy and my father has moved it at least seven times. We came thisclose to pitching it, when Mom had the genius idea to use as a pantry. 

And until I find my vintage bar cart, we also use it as a makeshift bar area. Mom was thrilled. (Not really.)

Shout out to Matt's worm bin that made the move. It is another thing we don't really have a spot for, but he's worked so hard to cultivate those little guys, I didn't have the heart to tell him to leave them.

To the left of that doorway between the dining room and living room we have the bathroom... with no medicine cabinet. 

That's right... our bathroom is gnome themed. Guess who chose that? (Hint: not me.)

I keep that empty tin on top of the toilet because it amplifies the sound of my iPhone while I shower. I keep that gnome there because he makes me laugh. We actually haven't named him yet.

We go all out. That soap gnome was actually my first Valentine's gift to Matthew.

This is right outside the bathroom. The fuse box is behind that canvas I purchased during my Pier One tenure. It doesn't really go with anything we have anymore, but it looks pretty on its own. Fun fact: My father ran into that bookshelf every single night he was here. 

And we've entered the bedroom. Yes, that is a box under our end table turned night stand. Did I mention we're short on storage? 

This bedroom set is airplane themed. It was my great grandmothers, and my mother told me it was the last gift my great uncle gave her before she died. I have a matching full sized bed, but that won't be coming until we have a second bedroom. The brush and mirror belonged to my grandmother (whose photo is in the corner of the mirror).

Close up.

Some more handmade art. I stuck some letters on some old canvas art and spray painted it white, and then pulled the stickers off.  If you can't tell, I ran out of the letter "N" so I had to use a rotated "Z." I'm good like that.

View from the side of the bed. I almost typed "view from the window," but then I thought that sounded creepy. 

Our walk-in closet/Jefferson's bedroom.

The view from the closet. I feel obligated to tell you that Matt normally doesn't put his feet on the bed. I also feel obligated to point out that those are the despised New Balances/bane of my existence. Do you see the hole in the soles? WHY WON'T HE JUST THROW THEM AWAY?!

Jefferson.

There you have it. It's not completely done since we haven't even finished unloading my car with the last of what Matt brought down from Knoxville, but you get the idea. Maybe someday I'll be nostalgic for our tiny apartment in Arkadelphia, but until then, I'll be browsing homes on Realtor.com.

You're Moving Where?

Growing up, if you had asked me, "Sharon, where in this great country would you most like to live?" I'd have probably answered, "Wherever Justin Timberlake lives."

If you'd have asked me two years ago where I'd like to live, I'd have said, "Either up north in New England (Seafood! Big cities!) or out west in a state like Colorado, Oregon, or Washington (Good beer! Mountains!).

I would have never thought of Arkansas.

It's one of those states you don't really think about... Unless you're a football fan and you're hoping that one of the games you win is against Arkansas (that may just be us Tennessee fans. Ugh.) It's not that flashy. It rarely makes the news, and it's hard to think of more than five notable Arkansans.

And for the record, I know Bill Clinton is from Arkansas. That's like the one fact everyone reminds me of when I'm like, "Who the hell is from Arkansas?"

That may be why Matt didn't lead with, "I have an interview at a college in Arkansas," but rather, "I have an interview at Henderson State University."

So here we are. In Arkadelphia, Arkansas.

Arkadelphia. 

Here's what Wikipedia has to say about the name:

The site was settled in about 1809 by John Hemphill, operator of a nearby salt works, Arkansas's first industry. It was known as Blakelytown until 1839, when the settlement adopted the name Arkadelphia. No one is certain of the origin of this name, but several theories have been put forward.

One possibility is that the name Arkadelphia was formed by combining Ark- from the state's name Arkansas and adelphia from the Greek meaning brother/place.^[3]

Another likely possibility is that the city was named after Arkadelphia, Alabama, a small community just north of Birmingham. Many early settlers of the area arrived from that state, and it was a common practice at the time to name newly founded communities after ones that the settlers had left behind.

Why couldn't we have stuck to Blakelytown? Sure it's a bit of a mouthful, but when I told people I was moving to Arkadelphia, people assumed I was being funny.

The adjustment to a small town life is going to be an interesting one. Fortunately, you can all follow along with my  blog. I briefly thought about changing the name to "The Real Housewife of Arkadelphia," but I thought "A Gross Life" was still the most fitting, seeing as how I don't know if "TRH" is copyrighted, and (more importantly to me) I don't watch any of those shows.

So here's goes my Gross life in Arkansas. On the plus side, I am so lucky that my job is allowing me to telecommute, and I have the most patient husband in the world to hold my hand while I cry about my lack of Target stores, Starbuck drive-thrus, Panera Breads and places that sell beer on Sundays.

Maybe now that I have all this free time I'll blog more than three times a year.

Maybe.

New Year

2013.

How nice is it that every year ends, and with it comes this sort of expectancy that we can start afresh. I mean, here we are already 20 days into the new year, and how many people have already broken their New Year's resolutions?

One of my resolutions was to blog more (because apparently two posts a year does not make one exactly productive) and it still took me twenty days to write this measly entry.

At least I'm trying.

I did manage to finish two books already this year- making my "read more" resolution a reality. I say this as I blog while I wait for my Sims 3 games to load while I simultaneously wait for Downton Abbey to come on PBS.

So I may be a bit late when it comes to literary news, but no lie, Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn is sincerely one of the best books I have ever read. I inhaled it in about eight hours, and then made Matt stop reading his Theodore Roosevelt biography (seriously?! He makes me looks like such a dunce) so he could read it and I could talk to someone about how amazing it was without spoiling it.

(Side note: I read Gillian's little "About Me" section on her website, and no lie, I wish I had her career. Acclaimed author? Entertainment Weekly feature writer? In the word's of that Gin Blossoms song "Hey, Jealousy!")

I then read Dark Places, another Gillian Flynn book, and while it was good, it wasn't nearly as breathtaking as Gone Girl. I'm currently delving into Sharp Objects. Three books in a little over three weeks? Maybe I shouldn't feel so bad about my Simming/Downton Abbey-ing.

While we're on the (sort of) subject of television, I have to say, I don't understand the obsession with cable anymore. Matt and I finally caved and got cable (mostly because Knology charges an arm and a leg JUST for internet, so we might as well be up to date on Mad Men), but it has been a total let down.

Cable, that is, not Mad Men. It's still not on the air yet.

But yes, back to cable. It's nothing but reality television, movies sloppily pieced together for television that you could watch in their entirety on Netflix, and rants by political heads. If I didn't want to keep up with shows like Mad Men, Vampire Diaries (go ahead, judge me!), and not want to constantly adjust our rabbit ears to get in PBS, I would just cut cable all together and go with Hulu Plus or something. I mean, we already have Amazon Prime (for half price because of Matt's affiliation with a college- holla!) and Netflix, so really we are just trying to keep up with the shows we watch rather than wait for them to be available on Instant View.

Anyways- New Year, same clichéd resolutions as everyone else.

1. Eat better.
2. Exercise.
3. Go to church.
4. Less internet- more reading.
5. Keep a journal.
6. Learn a new language (particularly German since I spent 4.99 on an App.)
7. Cook more.
8. Blog more.

 Cheers to 2013- may it be the best year ever (so far!).

Back on Track

Hi. Remember me? 

Oh, that's right- I have a blog. 

While it might be terribly interesting to only post a single blog every ten months and see how my life changes (a la that How I Met Your Mother Episode: Trilogy Time), I think I'd rather just try and update regularly. 

Don't hold me to it, though. 

So since my last update I have had three different jobs, including a legal administrative assistant to a huge television network... 

... and collecting on late trailer payments. 

Clearly I am living the post graduate dream.

Matt, however, has finally finished his post graduate degree and is now officially Dr. Gross... commence with the giggling. I myself will only be referred to as "Mrs. Dr. Gross."

Lately my inspirations have limited themselves to... writing a blog post regularly.

Oh, and making perfect fried chicken.

And having a washer and dryer connection.

Live big.

I have this idea that eventually I'm going to look around my one bedroom apartment and be like, "You know what- I have everything I could ever want." There's always that one obnoxious, self-righteous person going, "Somewhere in the world someone is happier with less than you have." Well now I feel crappy on top of unsatisfied... Thanks a lot.

But seriously, I'll have these grand epiphanies in the middle of the night as I'm kicking off sheets and then pulling them back on (I guess I'm just as fickle with my sleeping wants and desires) that I'm going to radically alter my life... by cleaning out my closet.

Seriously- that's always my big idea.

So,  I'll pull out my clothes and sort through them, but as I'm deciding for the tenth time if I really need that dress my father bought at Macy's in New York City, I'll look over to Matt's side of the closet and think, He really should clean out his side of the closet. This leads to me sorting through his side (which is always easier than going through my clothes) and then dragging him upstairs, away from his oh-so-important class planning (ppffftt! Real jobs are lame!). I'll point out all the the stuff he needs to get rid of, including his three blue polo shirts, the five white stripped button downs that vary thismuch, and his 1990 over-sized sweater.

This never goes over well.

I might be able to get him to agree to get rid of like, one shirt. Maybe. It depends on how recent my last life-altering closet cleaning escapade happened. 

We once had a HUGE fight about his three pairs of New Balance sneakers. I know you're saying that is ridiculous: No one needs THREE PAIRS of New Balance sneakers. Thank you for that validation. 

Maybe one day I'll be able to really take a look at all the stuff I have and genuinely sort through it to what I need. I'd like to think I could be one of those people who recognize that the simple things make them happy, like a cup of coffee on a rainy day with a book of Browning's poetry. 

I don't know why I always imagine that with poetry- but I do. Perhaps because I never read poetry. Rather than that sweet image, I'm the girl forgetting she had a cup of coffee next to her, even though she has reheated it three time since her sweet husband put a pot on for her that morning, or that it was even raining, as I've been stuck on the same Zelda boss for days (weeks.) 

Obviously I'm a work in progress.

The other side

Good golly I'm married!

Life on the other side is just as grand as I suspected.
No wedding stress, just normal married life-ness.

Rather than try to describe the sheer happiness/stress/joy/terror/bliss of my wedding day- I put together this small slide show. I may or may not have been watching Sleepless in Seattle when I heard this song.

Oh, Harry Connick Jr. You should stick to only singing...
P.S. I Love You, anyone?



Photos by my wedding photographer- Kyle Gregory.