In May I agreed to be maid (matron? ick.) of honor in a wedding.

The wedding happened yesterday.

Yes, that’s right—two months from initial planning stages to execution.

I’ve never been so exhausted in all of my life… I seriously think this wedding wore me out more than my 37 hour labor with Squidgelet.

On the other hand, it was all worth it, because the reception was held at Dave & Buster’s and I now have the world’s most awesome photo of myself:

Me.

Pearls.

Makeup.

A plastic machine gun.

And a wild “I’m-killing-zombies-don’t-interrupt-me” gleam in my eyes.

Sweet.

Dude.

I’m too fat for my saddle.

No, I’m being serious.

I’m. Too. FAT. For. My. Saddle.

I can fit in it, but my fleshy thighs are all squished and uncomfortable against the pommel and it shoves me forward and throws my center of balance off.

I caught myself logging onto Craigslist to browse through the Farm & Garden section and looking to see how much a used 16″ might go for since my 15″ saddle no longer fits.

Then I paused and gave it some thought….. REALLY, Becky? REALLY? Could I get any lazier or stereotypically American?

So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to bed. I have to get up early in the morning, pack my salad and go for a run.

Because, SERIOUSLY. I out-fatted my saddle.

🙁