Hello, Dallas

Me and Henry Moore in Dallas 

So it was a quick hop, skip and a three hour flight to Dallas for the SJG and the longtime hubby. Why Dallas? I'll tell you why. Because that's where the wedding invitation told us to go. 

The cowboy I got hitched to a while back poses in a very studly manner at the Nasher Sculpture Center, where we scoped out the wedding locale. Turns out, Dallas is very artsy and the museums are free. What's not to love? 

The beautiful chuppah, perfect for a Jewish-Indian wedding. 

The venue: So pretty at night, what with the twinkly lights and the sculptures everywhere. Okay, just between us, it was cold, freakin' cold, as in 47ish once the sun said adios. But don't worry. We were prepared, more or less. The man of my dreams wore long underwear under his suit. If that's not hot, what is? I still have a shred of dignity left and refused to sink that low. I made do with the puffy coat and the gloves and the sensible shoes. There were heating lamps and blankets everywhere. It was fine, I tell ya. No Popsicle toes for this gal. 

For kvelling purposes, I present the first dance of the gorgeous, highly accomplished newlyweds Garrett and Nemi, who fell in love in med school, became doctors and have almost completed their residencies in Texas. How many of you can say that? Hello? Anyone?

How I feel this morning: "Tired" by Ramón Casas.