It went down a little like this.
*Ding*Ding*Ding* Flu-stricken me is awoken from an afternoon nap by the annoying sound of my cell phone’s new email alert. I groggily open the email—it’s from Pengy and I immediately think, “Finally, my rejection email!” But once I start reading “and think you’d be a great addition to the Weddingbee…”
Jumps out of bed (completely ignoring the protesting joints and bones), runs down the stairs, and screams “I’m a bee!” into the kitchen to Mami Boa and Lil Boa (my mom and lil sis/MOH). Both being aware of my Weddingbee addiction and post-blogger-application-sending anxiety, they gave me big hugs and said their congratulations. I ran back upstairs to text everyone who knew I had applied (a grand total of three people) and got my FI’s reply back in three seconds: “Awesome, who do I get to be?”
Well, you get to be Mr. Boa Constrictor (in desperate need of a nickname, though…Mr. B, Mr. Boa, Mr. BC, Mr. Anaconda or Python…any other ideas?).
And who exactly are the Boa Constrictors? We’re fun-loving college sweethearts who met at the start of freshman year, when we were both chosen to be part of leadership training program for freshmen. We spent quite a lot of time together working for the program and quickly became BFFs. Our freshman year passed in a flurry of activities, finals, and late-night study sessions. We spent the summer after freshman year apart, during which time I realized how much I missed him and how huge a part of my life he had become. Once sophomore year rolled along, we were spending every possible second together, soon pushing our friendship out into romance zone, and it’s been Disney-movie-worthy bliss ever since!
The Boas their freshman year of college
We were born and raised on opposite sides of the island of Puerto Rico (I’m the country nut; he’s the city boy) about three hours from each other. For some strange reason I enjoy learning (about anything, but especially psychology or genetics related stuff) most of all, food and eating following at a close second. Occasionally I geek out by watching Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter Extended Edition movie marathons, or by spending hours playing God of War on the PS3. I watch way more TV than is healthy and have even enthused a non-TV-watching Mr. Boa to share in my adoration of Spartacus, White Collar and Revenge. Mr. Boa prefers to spend his free time plotting world domination, building impossible Lego structures, and being the incredible sweetie pie that he is. He’s organized to a T, wicked smart, and an old-school gentlemen (he still opens the car door for me every single time—it kinda drives me nuts sometimes), while I’m known to family and friends as a semi-nerd who talks way too loud and must be kept away from anything breakable or uninsured. (My reputation as a klutz is EPIC.)
How did I choose Boa Constrictor? I knew I wanted an anthropomorphized icon (I just really wanted it to have eyes) so it would definitely be a woodland creature, but there were only a few left and none immediately spoke to me. I did what any organized type-A girl would do—I opened up a new Excel sheet to evaluate the designs (true story). Early in this process one icon really stuck out to me. It reminds me of my unexplainable love for all thing Britney Spears (2001 VMAs anyone?), it’s a huge outlet for my Harry Potter obsession (I HATE Slytherin), and while doing research on the scientific species of the remaining woodland creatures (HUGE NERD ALERT) I realized it’s only found in Latin America just like me! Fate, I tell you!
The Boas are planning a super-low-budget morning wedding for close friends and family (I was raised across the street from eight cousins, four aunts, five uncles, and one set of grandparents—just a taste of my HUGE and close-knit family) with some Latin flair and a lot of love. Along with all this wedding planning, we will also be in our last semester of college, planning our honeymoon, graduating college, starting new jobs, and doing our first cross-country move. I’ll be one busy little bee, just the way I like it!
*All pictures personal*