This post is all over the place

It looks like we've decided on an historical hotel, in downtown Birmingham, for the wedding. It is old-fashioned beautiful and gives me a 1940's, The Notebook, feeling. Bud reminded me that everything reminds me of The Notebook and this hotel was actually built in 1914. Eh, whatever. I have half a mind to pretend as if I'm deciding between the two loves of my life. I will fling myself around the getting-ready suite, in chunky heels and slicked back hair with a curl at the bottom, bemoaning my flattering situation. Do you feel The Notebook now? Because I certainly do. I have that problem explaining myself to Bud a lot. How can you feel a hotel? How can a ROOM in someone else's house, smell like your grandmother's house? Or worse, the town you used to visit growing up? A town has a smell? The cold water in a lake reminds you of Maine? What the hell. Which reminds me of something. Bud has just recently jumped onto the WTF bandwagon. Like a parent who finally realizes what a piece of slang means and begins using it, to the alarm of his kids. At which point the word becomes extremely embarrassing. That is what our household is like these days. Double-you-tee-ef! Quit pinching me! Double-you-tee-ef! Leave me alone! What? Has he been hanging out at the local middle schools, two years ago?