I write letters to Ellen DeGeneres. No particular reason. Just because I can.
Six years ago today, my boyfriend and I were in a hotel in New Orleans. It’d been a busy Friday: lots of little errands to run to prepare for the next morning. See, Ellen, this was the eve of our wedding. Since this was the second marriage for both of us, we decided to do a small wedding. A very small wedding. We only invited two people: the bride and the groom.
There wasn’t time for me to get my hair done so I grabbed some hair rollers at a drug store, figuring I’d roll my hair that night and have salon-ready hair for the big day.
On the eve of our wedding, we were in our hotel room. I’d just taken a shower and was having problems trying to roll my hair around these curlers. Picture this. My fiance and I are sitting on the bed together – in our pajamas – watching something really romantic on television. I’m not sure but it was either a Law & Order marathon or a Criminal Minds marathon. I sat on the end of the bed and my fiance sat behind me, rolling my hair into the curlers.
This is one of my favorite memories. I don’t have a picture of this so I share the memory with anyone who’ll listen. The UPS guy, mailman, and three Home Depot employees all have this story memorized. Now it’s your turn.