OOPS!

Things have been humming along here as we go into the home stretch. The period of blissful nothingness is officially over. Now I seem to find myself in "holding panic at bay" mode.

Every night for the last week I open my eyes and I am fully awake in the middle of the night. My head is filled with random single items of things that need to be done before the wedding. For example, last night I woke up around 3:30 and sat straight up in bed with the thought "Pillows for ring bearers". The night before that it was "Must get CD with our song on it for wedding". Then I lay around for another hour trying to get to sleep, forcing myself to think about anything BUT the wedding, which is a mere 15 days away, so not thinking about it is easier said than done (except for Grant, who sleeps like a baby).

It's not just the middle of the night when these random "to do lists" hit me like lightning bolts. Monday I was at the gym on the elliptical trainer, watching the news and thinking about the health care crisis in America when all of a sudden I was almost knocked to the ground by the thought "I NEED TO GET SHOES FOR MY WEDDING!" I startedto hyperventilate (not from physical exertion), as I did not even have my dress back from the tailor, who I gave it to almost a month ago. Fortunately I did get it back yesterday, but this now means that instead of getting things ready around the house for my family's arrival I will spend the weekend in the mall searching for shoes to go with a an off-white dress that I can also walk on grass with. Not an easy task, I assure you.

Today was a big one. I was on the phone with my friend Lauren, who is also getting married this month, when giant billboard-sized letters in capital letters ablaze with electricity came across my brain. What did these say? Oh, nothing really important. Only a little thing called a MARRIAGE LICENSE!

In the words of Cathie the cartoon, "ACK-ACK-ACK!!" I wanted to pull my hair out and rub ashes on myself in shame because I had not remembered this crucial detail. How could I have been so stupid? So negligent? So lax?!

Ten I remembered. That wasn't my department. That was one of the very few jobs Grant had been delegated. And I recalled him actually looking into it after I reminded him, yet again, of his obligation. What he said, approximately 1 month ago, was "Oh it's good for 60 days so we don't have to worry about it for a while." Really? What's "a while"? Is it less than 2 weeks before we get married? What are the chances he would have remembered had I not had one of those moments that makes me run screaming for the Xanax? How much do you want to bet that we would not have gotten it in time, and I would have had to try and pull the strings of my judge friends to get the license at the last minute? That is a bet I would take, and I never take bets I cannot win.

I am getting sick and tired of this. I need to rest. I need a freaking break! And love him as I do, Grant is no genius when it comes to remembering thing. (He isn't as bad as his friend Laurel, who called yesterday wanting to know where the bachelor party was that night. I had to explain to him that the wedding was in 2 weeks, and while there is no bachelor party, we would be happy to see him since he came all the way down from Seattle.)

So, I made a list. It's called "Grant's To-Do List Before the Wedding." It contains the things that he has to get done, no excuses. No "I'll do it when I get home from surfing." It says things like "get hair cut" and "Book place to stay in Monte Verde for honeymoon." Last on the list is my favorite.

"Do not disagree with anything Sonia says needs to be done in the next two weeks, smile, and get it done."

I'll give him the list when he gets home today from surfing. After I smack him in the side of the head for forgetting this!

Invitations Away!

Whew! Well I'm glad that's over! For the last several weeks I have been working furiously on the invitations for the wedding. Because I couldn't do something simple, like ordering them. Oh no, I had to MAKE them myself. Why? Because I have taken it on as my personal mission to show the wedding industry that I don't need them! I don't have to buy into that overpriced ridiculousness that weddings have become, so nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah to it! (Please add appropriate sing-song tone to the preceding sentence for full effect.)

However, while I didn't need them I did need the help of some good friends. First my friend Betsy created a logo for us. Then, after I made a really crappy mock up of what I was thinking about on a nearby legal pad she emailed me a completed design for the invitation, including the neat touch of folding the information letter up like an accordion. After she helped me pick out paper and had it cut a Kinkos, my office generously (but unknowingly) donated its color copier so I could print all the invitations.

Then it was simply a matter of cutting the paper again, and assembling them. This meant I spent several evenings folding the information letters into their amusing accordion shapes while Grant did homework, played guitar, or any other activity that did not involve the invitations. This was followed by taking the stamp that Betsy created, stamping it all over the invitations, covering the wet ink with embossing powder, then drying it with a heat gun (borrowed from Celena, another friend) so it had the shiny raised look that it ultimately possessed. This went a little faster than anticipated thanks to several women that took pity on me at Betsy's bachelorette celebration on the coast. They couldn't bear to see me hunched over the dining room table while they enjoyed the hot tub. (Gotta love it when guilt works without your having to say a word!)

This was followed by the assembly process, which involved more helpful folks and 6 rolls of double sided tape (one of which I shattered when I threw it across the room in a moment of utter frustration). And that was it! I was done!

Oh. Except for affixing all the return address labels on the rsvp cards. And addressing the envelopes (does it goes without saying this was preceded by getting all the addresses for the guests?). And stamping and addressing all the invitations. But after THAT it was done!

Hmmmm. Thirty hours and 5 people later I'm not feeling so smug about doing it myself.

Oh well. At least they were pretty. Far nicer than I could have gotten for what I was willing to spend (pretty much nothing). So far only one has come back because of an incorrect address. I'll deal with that another day. Right now I want to enjoy getting the rsvps and thinking about the honeymoon. Because if this wedding is dong anything it is making me REALLY appreciate the thought of spending 2 weeks on a beach!

It's Gettin' Goobery Around Here!

I've changed. I have. I don't like to admit it, but I have no choice when faced with my recent actions. My long standing hostility towards the process of getting married has finally started to dissipate. Although I would never have believed it had you told me this a few months ago, it appears that with the majority of the wedding planning having been done I am starting to get, dare I say it, a little excited.

Ok, a lot excited. In a way that I find embarrassing to be honest. Like the other day I was over my friend Betsy's house. She is getting married about a month after me and she is the UBER-BRIDE. I mean that in a good way. She has been excited from day 1 about her wedding and has been in a planning frenzy since she got engaged, which was a couple of months after me. Maybe it's because she's an interior designer. She loves to be creative, and weddings give you a lot of opportunity to do that. Maybe it's because she is so happy to have found the love of her life (whereas I simply grateful it's happening before I turn 40). Maybe it's because she knows she will make such a cute bride (I have never had the word "cute" associated with me, no matter how hard I have tried over the years). She is so enthusiastic that she has more energy than she knows what to do with, so she is helping me with the parts of my wedding that I just can't seem to face. Whatever it is, she has LOVED the process of getting married, whereas I have had a slightly less exuberant approach, to say the least. (OK, let's be honest. It's been hostile. That's for you Leigha!)

Anyway, the other day I was at Betsy's and she asked if I had thought about centerpieces. Of course I hadn't. Who thinks about such things? So she started to talk about it in the context of her own wedding, but also probing me gently about my own. Betsy knows how I have felt dealing with my wedding, so she approached the topic gingerly, not wanting to set off a tirade against the wedding industry and marriage in general. But she was soon as stunned as I to find myself getting really involved in the discussion. I actually had ideas. I was able to picture things in my head. We were able to collaborate. Thanks to her fiance's previous experience at weddings I was able to come up with what I think will be a pretty cool idea!

After I left her house I called my sister to share my excitement with her. I went on and on for about 10 minutes before I realized that she hadn't said a word for some time. "Is this really boring to you?" I asked, slightly chagrined. "Yeah," she answered honestly. I felt bad for about another 2 seconds, said I was sorry, and then I kept talking for another 5 minutes. I didn't care if she was bored. These were my CENTERPIECES! How could anyone be bored by that?

I stopped at a store on the way home just to look and see if I could get any more ideas. I walked out with 5 boxes of stuff that I think I can incorporate, and if not, who cares!? I'll figure out a way to use it all. And if not, well, then I'll have ribbon for 10 years for presents!

I got home and Grant was watching something sports-like on TV. Seeing him there I was overwhelmed with how much I love him, and I had to share all my exciting news with him as well. He responded well, although not quite as enthusiastically as me. And then I was content to just sit with him for a while, pretending to watch television while I continued to plan in my head more and more of the details of the day, like whether or not I should have the napkins folded into some amusing shape.

So, at long last, I have gotten goobery. It's still there most days, and when it's not I can't wait for it to come back. In a way it's like the feeling you get when you are 6 years old and having your first really big birthday party where all your friends get to come and you know you are going to have the best-day-EVER! So I can't wait to share hat day with all of you. And if you don't like my centerpieces, SHOVE IT! (I say that with love people.)

Bridesmaid's Nightmare

Do you like it? I hope not. If you like that dress then I have vastly misjudged your taste, we should not be friends and you should not be coming to my wedding. In addition please refrain from sending holiday cards, birthday greetings, or other communications that would imply we are more than mere acquaintances.

I kid! But not about bridesmaid's dresses. I recently got to enjoy a perverse sense of pleasure when I began attempting to work with with my bridesmaids on their outfits. Wanting to make it as easy as possible, I originally said they could wear whatever they wanted so long as it was in one of the two colors of the wedding (lilac/lavender and green). Then I realized how many shades there are of these colors (hence my inability to distinguish lilac from lavender). I also found out some of the maids were trying to coordinate with one another so they looked somewhat similar. At that point I just decided to see if there was something nice out there that they would all like and have them wear the same thing.

HAH! No easy task, as I am sure many brides-to-be have found. First thing is that not all my maidlets have the same body type.I've got everything in there from long and lean to compact and voluptuous and everything in-between. Styles that work on one person may not look good on another. And I didn't want it to be expensive. Several of these gals are flying to the wedding and the last thing I want to do is make them spend a lot of money on a dress. I also wanted it to something not hideous. That was where, once again, I ran into trouble.

Perusing the online catalogue of bridesmaids' dresses I realized I had made a tremendous mistake in selecting (condemning) the friends to walk down the aisle with me. Unlike the models I repeatedly came across, none of my bridesmaids are 5'11" and stick thin. Nor do they look good dressed like hookers, which was a standard style I came across. I definitely made a mistake choosing to get married outside in the height of July heat, as almost all of the dresses were form fitting floor length designs that will soak through with sweat in under 3 minutes. Plus, they were crazy expensive! None of what I came across would ever serve as anything other than as a bridesmaid dress. Unless one were invited to a Love Boat themed costume party, in which case they'd win hands down! Once again, my ire rose against the wedding industry, and I had to hold myself back from hurling the computer screen out the window (hopefully onto the head of some other bride-to-be, thus saving her from similar frustrations).

I began to resent my birdesmaids. How dare they agree to be in my wedding and burden me with this task!? I began to reconsider marrying Grant, as it was his desire to incorporporate more individuals into the wedding that caused my own wedding party to grow, increasing my problem exponentially (I started with my maid of honor and 2 bridesmaids and ended up with three more maids!). I cursed the entire wedding process (again) for creating these "traditions" of maids and dresses and even numbers! I began to empathize with the bridezillas I swore NOT to be, and became amused by their selection of hideous outfits for their attendants, which only stood to make the bride look lovelier. One of my coworkers found me cackling in front of the computer as I looked for the ugliest dresses I could find to make those selfish, thoughless women sorry for wanting to participate in my special day! I was only sorry that one of my attendants was a man and I had little say in what he could wear (although I did try to find the ugliest tie possible).

And then the next day after a bizarre nightmare involving my ex-boyfriend, a 3 story bar he used to own, and a fantasy in which my friend Betsy offered to let me share her own wedding reception because mine was ruined (thanks Bets!), I felt better. I sat with renewed calm and typed "affordable bridesmaids dresses" into the computer. God bless Google, I actually found some reasonably priced dresses that were both attracive and versatile. I ordered one, it came today, and it's pretty good if I do say so myself. Betsy is coming over to give it the once over, and if it meets with her approval it's what we will be going with. If I can actually pull this off I may end up making them wear the price tags on the outside of the dress as they walk down the aisle.

And if they don't like it I am going to make them wear this.

I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty!!!

I have written several times on this blog about the very un-fun experiences I have had trying to find a wedding dress. Remember, this is a hostile blog! I didn't write about the fun stuff I did while looking, like trying on some creations I had no intention of ever wearing just so I could see what it felt like to be a gigantic walking cupcake. Now THAT was fun!

Anyway, I wrote about it because everyone makes a huge deal about the girl's dress when people get married. People get so worked up; its if the choice of the bride's dress will have a direct impact on the success of failure of the marriage. You know. There's that moment when the bride gets to the top of the aisle and everyone gets up and turns and looks, and then immediately starts judging the choice of her dress. Based on what I have seen it appears that the general thought is that size and ostentatiousness increase the chances of marital success, while simplicity will result in an annulment within 16 hours.

But no one really talks about the groom and his outfit. Probably because most guys seem to just go to the tux shop, rent some standard black thing worn by hundreds before him, and then return it with little thought other than the vain hope the rental place won't notice the vomit stains on the cuffs. Of course, there are exceptions. My friend Marc actually bought the coolest non-traditional tuxedo for his wedding. He has subsequently worn it on more than one special occasion. Pulling that outfit from the closet puts everyone on notice that wherever he is, it is a VERY IMPORTANT event worthy of a very important outfit (all while quietly saying, "And I look damn good!"). And he does he looks stunning. (I am hoping he will think our wedding is worthy of this fabulous creation, but he is giving indicia that it is not. Really? Well, hopefully he'll get an invite!)

Anyway, the other week we went to go and buy Grant's outfit. Yes, together. The man has never owned a suit in his life. You think I am going to let him go to a clothing store on his own and pick out what he is going to wear in our wedding? Puh-leaze! Armed with a debit card, my father's inherited sense of style and some suggestions from friends, we waded into the downtown morass of menswear.

First we went into Nordstroms. After being ignored for 10 minutes and looking at some of the prices we decided to leave. We were going to see if Mario's the local fancy man's shop was having a sale. One look at the windows told us they were not, so we went on to the ever trusty Men's Warehouse. Fortunately, they were having a sale, so inside we went.

I'd done this before, having had the pleasure of helping my friend Nic pick out his wedding suit. I was ready for the impeccably attired salesmen that swarmed over us the moment we walked in the door. Of course, they were all dressed as if they were gong to a mafia funeral, wearing pinstriped suits in a variety of colors, complete with with cuff links, silk ties and handkerchiefs, and shoes shined to within an inch of their lives. When they heard the word "wedding" they attempted to steer us towards a tuxedo. We quickly nixed that idea. As much as I would like to think that we live the type of life that would require Grant to don a tuxedo on a regular basis, we don't (yet). He needed a suit, so a suit it was going to be. We elected to have the nice young woman help us instead of the king-pin wanna-bes, and she was great.

I won't bore you with the details of the various exercises we went through to get him suited up, because that's not the point. The point is to share with you a very sweet moment that I experienced.

Like I said, Grant has never owned a suit. He went through this process with slightly gritted teeth, both because of his distaste for formal clothing and what is the most extreme loathing for shopping I have seen in any human being. After demonstrating tremendous patience as I suggested different shirts, ties, etc., we settled on something he felt comfortable with. He was ready to pay and walk out the door (not realizing he had to get it tailored to fit his manly physique). I suggested he put the whole thing on,because I am a visual person (meaning I am an idiot and I can't visualize what things look like unless they are actually on). He gritted his teeth some more, but recognizing that this was important, he went back and got dressed.

Grant came out from the dressing room, rolled his eyes, and followed the salesperson's directions to the three way mirror with the raised dais on which he could stand and view himself in all his splendid glory. He got up and looked at the mirror in front of him. Then he looked at the mirror on his left. Then his right. Then he began twisting this way and that. I saw this look come over his face that I had never seen before. (I think it's the look that was supposed to have come over my face when I tried my dress on, but it didn't because by that time I just wanted to get the hell out.)

Grant, I could tell, felt pretty. Ok, maybe pretty handsome, but pretty is the operative word. After another couple of minutes of twisting and some adjustments from the tailor, all he could say was, "Wow. I guess I've never really seen myself in a suit before!"

It was adorable to watch my big, rugby playing, wood chopping, outdoor loving hunk of a fellow be reduced to the state of a 16 year old girl seeing herself in her first prom dress. All I could think was "Awwwwwwwwww!" That, and I was going to be very happy to walk down the aisle and see him in that KICK ASS suit! It was definitely a bonding event that brought us closer, because at last he could understand my love of formal gowns (which I buy with the same frequency that some other people buy gum). Perhaps, I thought, weddings aren't so bad. As long as you work on them together.

So for now, it's Hostility 9, Weddings 1.