Excuse my absence this weekend, but I was away on very important business. By business, I mean I was in the middle of nowhere, writing love letters to my future husband. There really is nothing like the smell of cedar mixed with the incessant high-pitched talking (gossip/laughter/UGH) and 90 degree heat at 2 a.m.

Wait. I lie. It made the weekend way better when I had to wake up at 6:45 the next morning. See? It was a perfect paradise.

Seriously, though, I was away at the Catholic Engaged Encounter. My fiancé and I are getting married on June 24th this year, and as required, we attended this little weekend get-away. It was held at the Spiritual Renewal Center (between Victoria and Refugio), and was intended to bring engaged couples closer to one another and God.

I grappled all day yesterday with the decision as to whether I should write about my weekend. It was a very private thing for the couples there, and the concept behind it really is a very good way for couples to figure out if they are ready for marriage. As I said, it is a requirement, but we did not see it as that at all. We actually looked forward to being away from everything (everyone?) for the entire weekend. It was peaceful, and I met some very nice people. And, even though there really is a lot more to say, I won’t. I will just leave it at that.

Oh, wait. You are not going to believe what happened. Well, yeah – you would – if you really knew me. There are these little paths made of stone, and they were amazing looking. Well, I have weak ankles (read: CLUMSY) and I just knew that I was going to trip and fall before it was all said and done. It was only a matter of time before I got a taste of “rock path.” Therefore, the whole time I walked on the grass, so I could one up the path and not let it get to me.

What happened, you ask?

Of course I fell. On the grass… in the mud… in front of everyone. All weekend I killed countless little blades of grass, and for what? To make the story absolutely ironic, I have to add this: no sooner did my hands hit the ground and out came none other than, “G** D****IT!”

Now how horrible is that? I could just imagine if my Grandma was standing there. After I was severely beaten upside the head (not asked if I was ok) I would have been informed that “God’s last name isn’t d****t.”

I take comfort in the fact that only half of the people within a 5-mile radius (and God) heard it. As for my fiancé, he claims he helped me up, but that is not what happened. He laughed (LAUGHED) and then helped me up as I was trying to regain my stance (pride). He told me that I was going to fall no matter what because “Dr. Phil said if I think I am going to fall, I am.”

After my weekend of bonding with my (insert affectionate name of your choice here) I decided that I wanted a new cell phone. Why I decided I needed a new cell phone after all of that, who knows, but I started searching, and I am disappointed to report that Cingular Wireless is just about good for nothing.

I mean it. Is it too much to ask for a cell phone with Bluetooth (insert TM or © thing here), a QWERTY keyboard, and Yahoo! Messenger capabilities? I did not think so, but evidently you have to cut off your right leg and eat it for something even close to what I want.

My week will undoubtedly be filled with the sheer frustration of finding a phone that does not require me to take out a $100,000 loan or remove and consume any of my appendages. Wish me luck.

Until next time, remember, Twizzlers are the candy of the future.