Friends Don't Let Friends Eat Onions on Their Wedding Day

I posted this as a guest post on The Date Girl Diaries a few weeks back, and I like to keep all my writing in one place, so I'm reposting it here! These are some stories you may or not have known about my wedding and wedding planning experience.

Wedding planning is like an emotional roller coaster. It is exciting! It is stressful! One minute you are celebrating, and the next minute you are on the floor crying over seating charts and having to glue 50 billion rhinestones on your invitations. OK so I wasn’t the type of bride to have a wedding involving seating charts or rhinestone invitations, but the point still stands.

Wedding planning can turn even the most calm, level-headed lady into a “Bridezilla.” Although I never became a bridezilla, I just didn’t have the meanness in me. But I did turn into a little bit of a Cry-zilla and a whole lot of a Panic-zilla. Here is a list of my top freak-out moments. It may be best that I tell you now that I am a highly neurotic person and a complete worry wart.

Four Months till the Wedding:
My fiancé Adam and I are at our friends’ house to drop off some items that we had burrowed. These friends happen to be a charming gay couple who apparently know much more about wedding planning than I do. They proceed to innocently quiz me on my wedding plans, but it makes me feel like I am facing a firing squad. They ask me about my wedding colors. At that point, I had only picked one color and didn’t plan on having two. But their suggestion that I should have two colors sent me into a blind panic. And even though Adam and I didn’t get home that night until after midnight, he wasn’t allowed to go to bed until after we had decided on our second color. I was convinced my wedding would be terrible and that the world would end if we didn’t find the perfect color to match clover green before the morning.

Three Months till the Wedding:
It is time to register for stuff, a.k.a wedding gifts. I’ve always wanted to register for wedding gifts (those price guns get me all kinds of excited), but when I walk into the store I am overwhelmed by all the choices. I’ve never been good at making choices. Now I am being forced to decide which waffle maker would be best for us. And I feel like if I chose the wrong waffle maker, there could be dire consequences. And what about those cork screws, do we even need a cork screw? If I don’t register for a cork screw will the people looking at our registry think we’re not sophisticated because we obviously don’t drink wine? But if we add the corkscrew will people think we have a drinking problem? And Holy Wedding Gifts, Batman! If people buy us all these gifts we will have no room for them in our tiny house. The boxes of stuff will pile up, and we will never be able to move because we won’t be able to get out from under all our stuff. And when we have children, they will get lost in the maze of boxes that has become our life. We won’t be able to give away, toss, or sell any of the stuff because they were gifts and that would be rude! So one day you would be watching me on that show Hoarders. At this point in the thought process, I turned to Adam and said, “Can we leave now? The thought of all this stuff is suffocating me!”

Two Months till the Wedding:
I am flying to my hometown in Alabama because my friends are throwing me a bridal shower. I decide to bring my wedding dress with me, so my mom can just bring it to the wedding, and I wouldn’t have so much to travel with when my wedding rolled around. I board my first flight, hang up my dress in the garment closet, and go to take my seat in coach. After glaring at the lucky ducks in first class, I discover that for some reason my seat actually does not exist. Not that someone is sitting in my seat; it is just non-existent! The flight attendant tells me to talk to the front desk lady, so I de-board the plane and the front desk lady informs me they switched planes due to mechanical problems, and I got bumped. She wants to put me on a different flight, which is fine by me, but my dress is still on the plane! They are not allowing me to re-board the plane as a security measure. Don’t they understand that I’m not a terrorist threat, just a very anxious bride-to-be? I am tearing up and they are trying to contact the flight attendant. There are many tense minutes, and I’m just picturing my dress ending up in some airport’s lost and found. But then like a ray of light sent form heaven above, the flight attendant emerges with my dress. I wanted to ask her where she hid her angel wings.

One Month till the Wedding:
I have just confirmed how many people are coming to the wedding. I have about 90 guests and the venue can only hold about 100. One morning I get a call from my grandmother and she asks if she can give out an open invitation to all of her friends in her Christian sorority. There are about 70 people in her sorority. This means that even if just 11 of her friends decide to attend, we are in trouble. But what am I supposed to do? Tell my grandmother she can’t invite the fellow members of her blue-haired ladies club? Yeah right. So I tell my grandma to invite them all to the wedding, and also let them know to feel free to fill up on second and third helpings of our already paid-per-head dinner! OK so I really didn’t say that, but I thought it.

One Week till the Wedding:
I am getting all my wedding stuff packed and my veils have pulled a disappearing act. I have torn through my house like a Texas tornado, and I still can’t find it. I’m on the verge of a complete supernova meltdown. I call my mom and make her search through her entire house to see if I left it there. She doesn’t find it. I am now officially hyperventilating. Next, I call my poor grandmother and send her on a wild goose chase around her house (hey, that is what happens to grandmothers who invite 100 of their nearest and dearest friends to your wedding). She doesn’t find it, and my supernova meltdown begins. I am a freak-out mess, I can’t afford new veils! My mom keeps telling me to call the bridal store and see if they will give me some replacement veils. I think her idea is ridiculous, it is my fault I lost it, but I call anyway. Only to find I left my veils at the store three months earlier during a fitting. The bag had been sitting on the floor in the alteration room the whole time with my NAME and NUMBER on it. Couldn’t they have given a girl a phone call?

The Day of the Wedding:
It is two o’clock in the afternoon, and I am hanging with my bridesmaids while they get their hair done. I make the comment that I had been so busy running around all day, that I hadn’t eaten anything. My bridesmaids insist that I have to eat something, so they run down to Sonic and buy me a burger. I don’t think twice about my burger having onions on it, until I get to our venue and my mom tells me I smell like onions. Now all I can think about is how I’m going to be the girl smelling of onions on her wedding day. And in the words of Darleen from the movie The Little Rascals, I say burping onions on your wedding day is just, “So Romantical.” What kinds of bridesmaids don’t protect you from onions? I’m chalking this one up to an act of bridesmaid sabotage. By the way, I took a shower, so I was onion free on my wedding day. That made my day much more romantical.

Guesting (Like Ghosting But Less Fun)

I don't actually know what ghosting is. Is that what they do on those paranormal  ghost hunting shows where they screech and jump at things the audience never actually sees? If that isn't what ghosting is, the word ghosting actually sounds kind of dirty. Which I'd be all for if the ghost looks like the actor who played the human Casper in the movie Casper way back in the 90's.  Because I think he was my first ever crush, followed closely by Jonathon Taylor Thomas (the name J.T.T still gives me butterflies). However, I think that still lusting after the child version of these actors is slightly pedophilic.  Look I made a new word PEDOPHILIC. Coming soon to a dictionary near you!

Wow, I totally lost the point of this post. Thoughts of J.T.T do that to me. I wrote a guest post for my friend Date Girl at Date Girl Diaries.  She's getting married soon, so she asked me to do a little something on wedding planning or weddings (since I survived one). Which got me all sorts of excited because my wedding was 16 months ago (holy fire balls, I can't believe it has been that long), and I haven't had much of a reason to talk weddings in a while. So I did a run down on my top moments of being a PanicZilla, not a bridezilla, I was never a bridezilla.  So for funny stories never written about here, head over there, and give a girl some comment love.

The Paper Anniversary

 

Today I have been married a year. I really can't even begin to explain how much that really blows my mind. Adam and I sometimes relive moments from our little, sweet, perfect for us, outdoor, spring wedding. There were the funny moments, like how everyone that went to the bathroom, got locked in the bathroom. Including our best man who was locked in the bathroom by the flower girl, who then left! Then there was the most aggressive "wedding cake in the face"" scene in the history of weddings.

But I really remember the sweet moments, watching him pace around nervously outside while the girls got ready upstairs, the way my heart was beating out of my chest right before the music started, and the moment I saw his face down the aisle. He still tells me how amazed he was at how beautiful I looked. I remember dancing with him to Feels Like Home, the song that describes how I feel about our relationship to a tee. And when we got to the hotel room, our friends had filled our room with rose petals, champagne, and the flower centerpieces from the wedding. I popped open the champagne bottle, and the cork bounced of the ceiling. And then we talked, laughed, and cried because we were so happy.

We have known each other for 11 years now, and not much in our history says, "Those two are going to get married someday." But if I'm completely honest with myself, I have to admit that I loved him even back then. It is a long and winding story, that one day I should tell. A story that to me really proves that if it is meant to be, it will happen.

When we finally decided to give this thing a go, for real, it was absolutely terrifying for me. I wasn't sure I even wanted marriage. I had never been exposed to a healthy marriage. Marriage was something that seemed to always end badly, leaving many hurt people behind in its wake. Even when we were first engaged and living together, I just wasn't sure if this was a smart choice. Some days my heart was all in, but my head was halfway out the door. If we had the tiniest of fights, I worried I was getting in way over my head. I was not a commitment phobe so much as a girl with a huge fear of divorce.

I can't say what exactly shifted when we got married. But something definitely changed. After the wedding, we went back the same routines. We went to work, we came home, we did the same things we had done for the last year. But it just felt so different. I stopped questioning, I felt more safe and secure than I had ever been. It was as if I finally understood what it meant to be quietly content with my life.

This morning I'm waking up in Washington D.C. on our long overdue honeymoon. We are about to head out to go paddle boating in the Potomac river surrounded by hundreds of Cherry blossom trees. And I can't help but sit here in awe about how rich my life has turned out to be, especially after all the heartbreak of my childhood. Girls like me don't always get so lucky. Time and time again I see girls who grew up with mean/abusive/absent fathers choose men just like their fathers. Hoping they can rewrite their own histories.  But I found a man that is the exact opposite of my father. I don't know how I got here, or why I deserve this happiness, but I'm just so thankful.

If you can find the one person who loves you for who you are, doesn't try to change you, and puts up with all your bullhockey.  Marry them and don't let them get away.

Daddy Issues

After I got engaged I really started to think about what I wanted my wedding to be, and I decided I wanted my dad to be there. While for some this would be a no brainer, for me it was something I agonized over. To call my relationship with my father troubled, would be a gross understatement. My parents were married less than a year, and divorced by the time I was six months old. My father was physically and mentally abusive. I know all the horrid things he did to her, and I think my mother is one of the strongest & most amazing women I've ever known. At the time of the divorce, my father had no record of abusing children so he was given some custody rights, and I spent summers and holidays with him in Texas.

In some ways those summers were great. I lived like an only child in St.Louis, but in Texas I spent everyday with my cousins. But my father was hard to please, and I was always in trouble. It was nonstop yelling and insults from my father. One summer I went to Vacation Bible School, and on the last day the parents got to come and see what the children had been doing all week. I was so happy to have my dad there. But on the drive home I could tell he was angry at me. And when we finally got home, he pulled me into his bedroom and yelled at me for over an hour because he said I had not smiled enough that night. Another time I put on some make-up that belonged to an older cousin, and he called me a whore. I was never good enough, smart enough, or pretty enough. I don't remember him ever striking me, but sometimes I have intense dream where he does. And I don't really know what that means.

My family never treated me right either. Growing up I spent every Christmas eve with my mother, and every Christmas day with my father. But one holiday my father and his family had guilted me into staying the night with them instead. So I stayed the night, and when I awoke on Christmas day, my stocking was empty and I had no gifts. That is how I learned there was no Santa. Worse than that, I had to watch for hours as my cousins unwrapped all of their new items. I did it with a big smile on my face, but I don't think I ever felt as bad as I did that morning.

I feel like a lot of my anxiety issues can be attributed to my father. From my studies in psychology, I know women who experience high stress pregnancies are more likely to have anxious/ depressed children. My mother was definitely in a stressful situation throughout her pregnancy. Additionally, kids who grow up in unstable home environments are more likely to have issues. I still have deep self-esteem issues. I'm the type of person who blames myself for everything, and I will apologize to you if you step on my foot. When I fight with Adam, I will always say I'm sorry and claim that its 100% my fault. If I shared an accomplishment of mine with anyone, my father would call me conceited. So I sometimes get really upset when Adam tells his family about any of my accomplishments. I worry that they will think I'm full of myself. I don't know how to take a compliment, and I never feel like I deserve success.

When you are child, and a parent says terrible things about you, you think, "Wow, I must really be this terrible person." This is why I never mentioned anything to my mother until one particularly bad Thanksgiving when I was 12 years old. After that I cut my father and his family out of my life for a few years, not letting them back in until I was 17. I don't even remember why. Perhaps I just had a misguided notion of needing them in my life. They treated me worse than before after the falling out, but I tried to ignore it and solider on. My family had told me they were going to come to my high school graduation. They had attended all my older cousins' graduations, and showered them with gifts. My graduation just happened to fall on my 18th birthday. Not only did they not tell me they weren't coming, I never even got a phone call or a congratulatory card. I cried myself to sleep for a week.

So I wrote them a letter, and spilled 18 years of hurt onto the page, and severed ties yet again. They immediately ran out and bought me graduation gifts; they thought that would win me over. I never wanted any gifts; I just wanted to be acknowledged. However, during my senior year of college I learned that my father was very ill. He had lost a leg due to complications with diabetes, and he has been hospitalized several times to have fluid drained from his heart. I just started thinking how would I feel if he died, and the last words I said to him were out of anger? So last Christmas I just dropped by his house, and we patched things up. I was excited to have my father at my wedding, so he could give me away, and dance with me. And better yet, he is a professional photographer, so he can take my photos, and I can save money. He seemed genuinely excited about everything.

I'm not 100% sure why I really wanted my dad and his family at my wedding. I didn't necessarily think their presence would make it better. In fact, I thought it might be a little uncomfortable. But I think the truth of the matter is I did not want our friends or Adam's family to notice & ask about their absence. Because in a twisted way, I thought they might feel I wasn't good enough for their son, that I was damaged goods, and that I didn't deserve happiness just as my family feels. Because deep down that’s what I felt about myself then.

I had a bridal shower a month before the wedding, and no one from my dad's side showed and they never even gave an excuse. I figured it was because they didn't want to give me a gift. But I assumed they would come to my wedding. But no one from my dad's side (except him) came to my wedding, and my father gave me some flimsy excuse that luckily I didn't see through until later. Not only was it hurtful, but we had paid for 30 people who didn't come. Talk about a waste of money. However, the time spent with my father on my wedding day was amazing. He walked me down the aisle, we danced, and for the first time that I can remember he told me he loved me and that he was sorry. We left on such a great note, I thought things were great.

Its been four months since the wedding, and I haven’t gotten the pictures, and he wont respond to my contact (which I know he has received). I've even offered to pay for them. I'm pretty sure he has decided not to give them to me. I am heartbroken. I do have great pictures from my friends, but no professional shots. My father may have never given me anything, but for the first time I feel as if he has stolen something from me. I feel like an idiot for trusting him, and giving him this opportunity to hurt me. And now the people who want pictures have to know what happened, and I'm so embarrassed. Was everything he said that day a lie? I don't think so. I just don't get it. The worst thing is I find myself wondering what I did to make him mad. Is it because my mother walked me down the aisle too? Is it because I danced with my stepfather? Is it because Adam wasn't overly friendly towards him (he was cordial, but he can't stand him for what he did to me). Logically I know this is not my fault, but the little kid in me feels like it is.

I've spent a lot of time thinking these last few weeks and I've come to a decision. I'm no longer going to reach out to my family, and will not ask for the pictures again. I am not writing them off with some letter or e-mail, I'll just let it all fade away naturally. They know how to contact me, and if they want to spend time with me they can call me. I will never turn down an earnest request. But other than that, I'm not putting myself out there to just keep getting hurt. I know this will get easier with time, but for now it’s like there a gaping hole in my heart.

.

365 days ago (give or take):

I’m a 100% control freak. Not because I'm this raging witch that has to have everything my way, but because I'm affected by a case of the crazies, that makes me believe that all the dogs in the world will die if the dirty dishes stay in the sink for any extended length of time. And luckily Adam understands me enough to put up with this, because I don't really ask him to fix too many things for me, instead I just go behind him and do it myself. This is what I learned in therapy: my neurosis need not be anyone else's neurosis.

Adam and I have our first big fight, that was a stupid one.

Wedding Miscellany

My oh so cute mother finally mailed me the pictures from the disposable cameras that I had sitting on the tables at my wedding. Remember those days when all we had were film and disposable cameras and you had no idea whether or not the picture would turn out? Then you were forced to go out to develop the film only to discover that your finger was blocking the picture you took of your drunken great Aunt Ida wearing a lampshade on her head? That is a moment you will never get back. The horrors! Thank Bob for digital photography. This is all to say that about half of the pictures turned out pretty good. Here is just a small sampling.

This is the flower girl and my cousin Chloe. She was so cute; she told me that she was worried that people might think she was the bride.

A wedding isn't a wedding without a little bunny ears.

This one kills me. This is my college roommate Jana, and her boyfriend Austin. Jana boobs are um, humongous, and I always tease her because I'm a card carrying member of the itty bitty titty club. She promises to leave me her boobs when she dies. I also grabbed her boobs like he is doing in the elevator, Adam's eyes got so wide!

I just threw this one in so you could see a little bit of the grounds.

Our venue had no liquor license so we could only serve some champagne for the toast . This was smuggled in...Why wasn't I told? I COULD HAVE USED IT!

I am simultaneously disgusted and amused by this picture of my friends Monique and Clark.

This is just a sweet shot of the procession. The bald guy is my annoying, lovable big brother BJ.

The receiving line. Jenny says she was making this face because her feet were hurting. But I think it looks like she is thinking, "Are we done yet? Are done yet?" or "Can we eat yet? Can we eat yet?"

Me with the food I wouldn't really eat. If you look behind me you will also see Adam with the food he wouldn't really eat either. Isn't my expression classic?

Jana really wanted to catch the bouquet, because Austin is a tad bit commitment phobic. She pretty much stole that bouquet from poor little Chloe. After that Austin was walking around saying, "The Bouquet means nothing!" Also he ran away when we tossed the garter.

See the guy in white dashing away? Yeap that's Austin.

365 days ago (give or take):

I don't really think there are words to describe the Grand Canyon. The beauty and the sense of awe at the things nature can do. On the other hand, I got the giggles when I was there because I thought about that commercial with the older women at the Grand Canyon on their hover rounds. Aren't they afraid they will roll off?

This post was all about my the Southwestern road trip I took after graduation.

The Best Day

There is a lot I want to say about the wedding weekend, from the rehearsal dinner to the joint bachelor/bacheorlette party. Like how at one point we had so many people in the car that Jamison had to ride in the trunk on top of several suitcases. And once I was with Adam's family, when we encountered a man with such a deep Southern accent that they couldn't understand what he was saying, I watched as his cousin's face dropped in shock, before I had to step in to translate. And on Friday night Adam and I were meeting with the minister, right before the rehearsal started, when my flower girl, Chloe, walked up and asked her mother who I was talking too. Her mother told her I was talking to the man who was going to marry me. Chloe thought I was marrying the minister, a MUCH older gentleman. So she freaked out and every five minutes she would say, "SHE CAN'T MARRY HIM, WE HAVE TO GO TALK TO HER." But for now, I really just want to skip to the main event. There would be a million things I could say, but I just want to share some best moments.

I woke up on Saturday and the first thing I did was put on the perfume beautiful. Because when I was growing up that is what my mother always wore. The smell always reminds me of all the wonderful times I had with my mother, and brings back all the best things about childhood. While I was driving to my grandmother's house to pick up the dress & bridesmaid's gifts, "Keeper of the Stars," by Tracey Byrd came on the radio. I haven't heard that song in years; it is my mother's and stepfather's song. That made me tear up.

That morning I sat around the salon talking to my bridesmaids, and we reminisced about our favorite stories. We teased each other about how crazy everyone looked in rollers and under the dryers. I was reminded about why and just how much I love my friends. This is the place it finally hit home, "This is my wedding day."

The weather was spectacular, the house was decorated gorgeously. The tables looked elegant, the gazebo was stunning. I went upstairs to get ready, and my mother put on my make-up. My sister-in-law helped me with my petticoat, my maid of honor and one of my bridesmaids pulled me into my corset. My Aunt Dawn did my hair, and a family friend, Tina, put on my garter. Everyone was milling around getting ready, waiting on me hand and foot. I talked to my mother-in-law and she told me Adam was pacing around outside. Soon it was show time, and a guy friend Austin helped me down the stairs with my train (I'm not supposed to tell y'all that). Everyone lined up and for the first time I felt nervous.

My mother and father both walked me down the aisle. When I first saw Adam, he nodded at me, and that was one of the most blissful moments of my entire life. The preacher asked who giveth this woman, and at that very moment my 15 month old cousin hollered loudly. Everyone laughed. And then my father said, "Her mother and I do." We exchanged our vows, and I did get a little choked up. We then exchanged the rings and the preacher announced we were husband and wife, and we kissed like there was no tomorrow. The minister then said, “What God has brought together, let no man tear asunder."

After doing the receiving line, and taking some pictures, everyone went inside to get a bite to eat. Adam and I both ate dinner (sorta), we were too keyed up to really pay attention to what we were eating (baked chicken, meat loaf, southern green beans, mashed potatoes). My advice to brides-to-be? Get a to-go plate from the caterer to take with you to the hotel. Next, we lit the unity candle, and then our best man & maid-of-honor gave touching speeches for the champagne toast. Jenny's speech almost made me cry. Then it was time for the part I've been looking forward to for months...cutting the cake.


My mother didn't want me to do the shoving cake in the face thing, because of my dress. So I told her not to watch. I knew I was going to do it, and I told Adam to go for it. And that is what we did, and once wasn't enough, we got each other three times at least. It was a wedding day food fight! He got it in my eye, and I got it up his nose.
After the cake cutting, it was time to get the party started. But first Adam and I had our dance. I had chosen the song Feels Like Home by Chantal Kreviazuk. A song that truly explains how I feel about Adam. I thought I would be self conscious dancing with everyone watching me, but I really did feel like we were alone on the dance floor.

Then we did the dollar dance to "Hungry Like the Wolf." It turned into a mini- competition between Adam and me (who could get the most money). Adam made one more dollar than I did. Boo. I danced with almost every guy there, in fact one of the groomsmen tried to stop anyone else from dancing with me. And at one point I looked down to find the ring bearer holding up a dollar. So precious. And the flower girl wore all the guys out! Chloe's form of dancing involved repeatedly hopping around, so the groomsmen all took turns with her. After it was all over, Chloe was going around telling everyone that, "She danced with all the boys there..."

When things settled down a bit, I finally got to dance with my father. It really doesn’t matter why, but my father and I have been estranged for a number of years. So at first while we danced it was only small talk, and then it turned to more serious talk. And my father told me he loved me, something I really needed to hear. And then I bawled like a baby, it really just felt like a fresh beginning. A much needed fresh beginning.

One of the last things we did was the bouquet/ garter toss. All weekend long we had been mercislessly teasing our friends Jana & Austin (pictured above), who have been dating for quite a while, and who are a tad bit commimtment phobic. So I told her I was going to toss the bouquet straight to her. I was only kidding, but she actually caught it! So after that Austin announced, "The bouquet means nothing!" Then when we did the garter toss, all the boys bolted as soon as it was thrown. So no one caught it. I think they must all sit around comparing non-marriage notes. Men!

When it was time to leave, everyone lined up with their bubble bottles that were shaped like champagne bottles. We hugged everyone goodbye, and then we ran and jumped into my mom’s car that was decked out. The whole trip home people were honking and waving. When we got to the hotel, two little girls were waiting to see the bride come out of the car. I gave them a big hug, and I felt like a princess.

We were told our room wasn’t ready for us, I didn’t know what was going on, but they told us to wait 10 minutes before going upstairs. So while we were waiting for the room to be ready, I sat around feeling like a pastry puff. I ran into my cousin Samantha and her daughter Cammie (who was a junior bridesmaid in the wedding), and found out she had been walking around pretending to be me. So cute. Finally we got to go upstairs, and we saw flower petals leading up to the door. Once we got inside there were flower centerpieces from the wedding everywhere, candles were lit, and champagne was sitting on the coffee table. It was stunning. I opened the bottle of champagne, and the cork hit the ceiling. And this is where all descriptions end…

Launch Wedding Photos*
These are some great unedited photos my dad took; this isn't all the pictures I have. But a good amount, so check it out. (Just click on the photo of Adam and me to see them all).

365 days ago (give or take):

I mused out loud, “I wonder how they got the penguin to stand on top of the polar bear?” No one really said anything because they really thought I was just kidding.

I'm so cute when I'm clueless.

A Million Little Mini Heart Attacks

Holy Guacamole! The wedding is now officially six days away, but on Wednesday morning we are leaving for Texas. So that leaves me about 72 hours to get my never ending to-do list accomplished. That makes this a fabulous time to blog! I'm not procrastinating at all, I would never ever procrastinate. Stop looking at me like that. These last few weeks have been crazy, and here are just a couple of things that have been threatening to give me a heart attack.

My brother, BJ, is one of our groomsmen, and my mom is buying him a suit. We chose simple black suits & white shirts-to make it easier for everyone because it’s a "destination wedding*," and we can't be with the guys to get their suits. But my precious brother saw this as his opportunity to get himself a white suit. So BJ asked my grandmother, "Do you think she'll mind if I get a white suit?" and she replies, "Of course she will." But he doesn’t want to take no for an answer yet, so next he talks to mom, "I think you should buy me a white suit," and she says, "No, you are getting a black suit."

I'm his last chance, so he finally asks me and I tell him, "Yeah you can get a white suit, and then I'll buy you a panama hat, so you can drive around in grandma's red navigator, and be the big pimp** you've always dreamed of being." "Really?" "No! You're getting a BLACK SUIT." So he did get a black suit, but my grandmother had to stop him from getting a red dress shirt. Oye Vay. If BJ had showed up in a white suit, not only would he not be in the wedding, he would no longer BE ALIVE.

Secondly, we reserved our wedding venue to accommodate up to 100 people. We never expected almost everyone would be able to come, but Adam and I are very blessed to have so many loved ones that want to be there for us. So two weeks ago I estimated that we would have about 90 people, and I was very happy with that. Then my grandmother called and asked if she could invite the "blue-haired ladies" to the wedding (that's what my mother and I call the members of my grandmother's Christian sorority.) There are 15 women in her sorority, and some of them have husbands! But to be fair, they all remember me from when I was a little girl.

My grandmother keeps trying to jog my memory when it comes to her friends "You must remember Mrs. So & So! She's the one with the beehive hair-do." She forgets that they all have BEE HIVE styled hair-dos! But my grandmother is a real socialite, so how could I tell her she couldn’t invite them? Now I'm just worrying about really trivial things like having enough seats, enough food, and enough cake. And this all reminds me that my OCD mother had asked the cake lady if they could place a semi-invisible grid inside the cake, to ensure it was cut in exact & uniformed pieces. That ranks right up there with the time we walked into a store named "Pack-n-Mail,", and my mother asked the employee if they packed and mailed items there. How the employee was able to keep from laughing when she said that is still a mystery to me. I’m still laughing about it.

Now for something that is not stressing me out. These are the t-shirts I bought for the wedding party to wear the night of our rehearsal dinner, and for our joint bachelor/bachelorette parties. Just ignore the wrinkles because I need to throw them in the dryer.

*When you say destination wedding, people think of something exotic like "Hawaii," and I just mean a "Small Texas Town."
**I have no problem with white suits, you just have to know my big brother. To know him is to love him, but to have him in your family is enough to drive you bonkers. But oh how I love him anyway.

365 days ago (give or take):

I had never realized that King David's City was outside the walls of Jerusalem. It is all in ruins now, but it’s mind-blowing to be standing in a structure that is so incredibly old. Going down into the tunnels of the city was one of those moments, when what I had pictured Israel to be, completely aligned with what Israel was.

Day four of my Israel trip, gosh that vacation was amazing. I also talked about some interesting cuisine I had sampled. PETA would hate me. I find reading back over my old entries can sometimes be difficult, because my grammar was so terrible. Oh well! I’ve improved now I hope.

Loud Nonsense

I'm not dead. I just thought I would say that, because some of you may have been really worried. I know, I know I should have called. How completely rude of me. Maybe you were imaging I had slipped on a banana peel and cracked my head open on a toilet, or maybe you thought I had been dragged away by a pack of rabid raccoons (hey you never know when your number will be up, and I have a feeling I'm going to go in a very public & humiliating way). In the last two and a half weeks, I've attended two bridal showers; have logged over 6,000 frequent miles, and ate lots of cake.

I've put a lot of thought into which one of my cakes tasted better. The first was beautifully decorated and tasted light & fluffy, as every cake should. But the guests made me stop to take a bite of cake, while I was unwrapping the gifts. While I was munching on the cake, everyone in the room decided to snap a picture of the act. The next day I woke up and had been tagged over TWENTY TIMES eating that piece of cake on facebook. It looked like all I do in my life, is eat cake. Now that would be a wonderful life, but it isn't my life. The second cake was layered with mousse and strawberries. I ate a piece at the shower, I had a piece after dinner, and another at 2 A.M. in the morning. But this was all done with no photographic evidence, and for the reason alone, the first one wins hands down!

I feel like I've just now caught up on all the sleep I missed these last two weeks. Yes, I know you can't really catch up on lost sleep, but sleep and I have been playing a game of tag for a while now, and he is finally winning. The weekends of the showers, he chased me around with tempting feather pillows and warm footy pajamas and I ran for my life yelling, “You Can’t Catch Me, So Suck It.” But now this girl is going to bed at 8:30(I'm worse than my grandma) and not getting up to 10:00. And even after all that sleep, it is still possible to find me drooling on the couch whenever I’m not at work. But I can finally get back to the land of the living now. Which is good because the next 24 days (24 days *gulp*) is going to be a sprint.

I'm sure several times in these next few weeks I will be found in the closet crying, "Maybe we shouldn't get married at all!" Because I always deal with stress in an entirely sane & productive way. I have to make so many phone calls, which to me is the equivalent of someone breaking everyone of my toes ONE by ONE. I am so phone phobic; I visibly cringe when it goes off. And worse than making all those phone calls, I have to put my precious pooch Sarah in the kennel while we are gone. My perfect baby, who walks on water and farts roses, has to be without a familiar face for five whole days. Even though those unfamiliar faces will spend so much individual time with her that she probably will never want to come home. I'm still having bad separation anxiety. I realize I have become the CRAZY DOG LADY.

P.s.-I'm sorry if my posts become all about the wedding all the time, it’s just my life is all WEDDING all the time right now. But I will contain myself for all of our sanities, including MINE.

365 days ago (give or take):

I think I was hoping for something easy, I would type in the name and *poof* she would appear and I would wonder why I never ever thought of this before. And then of course we would meet, hold hands, and go skipping off into the sunset.

I talk about my search for the sister I had never met, it was so hard. But I finally found her! It was so worth it.

Purple Sweaters, Cancer Plates, and Kitchen Aid Mixers

The best thing about getting married is watching the items on our registries disappear. There are only a few times in your life that you get to tell people everything you want, and they run out and get you the EXACT THING YOU ASKED FOR. And not a furry purple sweater with a suspiciously happy unicorn painted on it (though come to think of it that could be awesome). Most everything on those lists are things we do really need. As it stands Adam and I have only one pot, one pan, and one mixing bowel that serves as Sarah's water dish. We are very resourceful.

My mother has been telling everyone that asks her what we really need, to get us plates. We already have two sets of plates; one is a McDonald's happy meal set Adam has had since he was a wee boy. Sometimes I will be eating something and will look down to see Grimace (the purple blob) staring at me, it is a little unsettling. Our other plates are a set of non-microwavable plates from Target, but we are rebels, so we microwave them all the time. This drives my mother crazy. She can't stop telling me how little parts of the plate are probably flaking off into my food, and how it is going to give me cancer. So my plates are going to kill me, and one day she will be standing over my coffin saying, "I told you so." So now I call them our cancer plates. I love my mother.

The thing I want more than anything else, the thing that would make my life worthwhile, is a kitchen aid mixer. I'm getting turned on just looking at the picture. I could mix, whisk, bake, and frost with that baby. I can make pasta and ice cream! It comes in 24 spectacular colors! The advertisements say, "No wonder generations of cooks have cherished theirs. Isn't it your turn?" As Bob as my witness, I KNOW it is my turn.

I registered for it at bed, bath, and beyond, but I've been tempted to add it to my Target one also. In case they go shopping at Target instead, I want to cover all my bases. I realize that we might get two mixers this way, and may not be able to return one of them. But I mean would that be so bad? If we had two, Adam and I could have dueling kitchen aid mixer races! That sounds like the most fun I have ever heard of in my entire life.

I also considered registering for one in every color (you know just in case they don't have the color I want). I’m not so picky. Friends, if I end up with 24 Kitchen Aid Mixers will you come over and play Susie Homemaker with me? Pretty please? I'll put out some chez-its and serve champagne.

P.s.-Did you see my new layout? Version 4.0.

Just Say No To Wedding Dress Butt Bows

So when Adam popped the question last March, and we chose a date, it was 13 months away. That seemed like a lifetime away. But before I knew it the wedding was two months away, and I realized I didn't even have my dress. And all my mother's coworkers began feeding her horror stories about wedding dress shopping and how incredibly hard it would be. This led my mother to freak out and drive me crazy (as she does often). So I told her, "I Got This" just like I had my 4th grade science project. The one I did in one night, which placed above my best friend’s who worked on hers for weeks (that may just be why we are not friends anymore).

Last weekend my mother flew up to help me find my dream dress. Standing outside of the dress store right before it opened, surrounded by about 15 other brides, I wouldn't say I was excited but I would say I was struck with complete terror. Was this going to turn in to some kind of blood bath? Brides-to-be cat fighting over the perfect dress? Like the bloody, more violent sequel to Bride Wars. But the doors finally did open, and yes the brides did swarm-but luckily I had an appointment. When I sat down with my consultant, Claudia, she asked what I had in mind. I told her I had absolutely no idea, and I'm sure she thought this was going to be a long morning. I was able to decide that I wanted white instead of ivory. And that I wanted something that might cover up my arm flab (sometimes I wonder if I flap my arms hard enough, would I fly away?) That and I wanted no butt Bows! Who in the world invented the butt bow?

I told Claudia I was pretty much open for anything. So she went out dress browsing, and my mother got to work trying to cut off the oxygen flow to my brain by pulling me into a corset. Then I put on my slip and I looked like Olga the milk maid (When you read “Olga the milk maid” make sure you read it in a thick, Scandinavian accent). I had a problem filling out the corset in the upstairs department.*cough* I have never ever filled out anything in that department. Claudia told me to lean over and push everything up. I really thought this wouldn't work, hey I know my body, but when I stood back up I had boobs! You don’t understand what a monumental statement that is. That was the single most glorious moment of my entire life. Boobs! Hehe.

Claudia brought out the first wedding dress. It was everything I thought I didn't want. It was strapless and had some cinching on the side that I just couldn't get behind. But I tried it on anyway. I had to dive into it. Literally. My mother tied the laces in the back, and I stepped out on the podium. I wasn't allowed to look at myself until Claudia had put the whole look together. She placed the veils, tiara, and helped with my shoes (they are flats so I’m not the jolly green giant on my wedding day). My mother told me I looked gorgeous. Claudia asked me details about the wedding and told me to envision myself there. Which I was desperately trying to do, even though it struck me that it was just a little cheesy. But when my mother, God bless her heart, starting humming the wedding song-than I had to bite my tongue not to laugh.



Claudia & Me Plus Some Strange Lady (who is she?) See the picture better here.
When I opened my eyes, I loved what I saw. I felt beautiful, just like a princess. My life long dream is to grow up and become a princess, so this was definitely a plus for the dress. At first I thought this dress was just in the running, but it didn't take me too long to decide I didn't need to try on anything else. Maybe I shouldn't have gone with the first dress, but when you know you know. Now I want to make sure not to gain or lose any weight, because I want everything to fit perfectly. Arm flab be damned, I found my dress.

I Done Did Get Married

Have you ever seen my Big Fat Redneck Wedding? I hadn't until the other day, and I have to say it was a hoot. There was the most endearing couple who got on the "Puter," and ordered a size 28 wedding dress online. When it arrived, it was a size 8. Now if this was the show Bridezillas, fire would be shooting out of her ears, tears would be shed, and the President would have to be called in to respond to a threat to national security. But the rednecks were more level headed, and the groom said just take a deep breath and suck it all in.....you can imagine how that turned out. Eventually duck tape was suggested, and everyone could breathe a sigh of relief. CRISIS AVOIDED.

There are so many things brides-to-be can learn from this show. Like camouflage can be used for everyone in the wedding party. Orange, Green, & a little “yeller” make for fabulous floral arrangements. And that the true definition of shotgun wedding is that everyone brings their own shot gun. But I would not suggest wearing camouflage and bringing shotguns to the same wedding, because that could lead to a dangerous outcome.

Last week since I was in town, I took care of a lot of wedding details (Four Months To Go!). One of the big things I have to get figured out is the seating arrangements. What I had originally planned for the head table was just both of our parents &. grandmothers family wise. My mother piped up & said that my stepfather would not be happy if she was up their with my dad & he wasn't up there also. Seriously? Like my mother is going to fall for a man she divorced 22 years ago, over the course of a 45 minute dinner. But I don’t want anyone to get their panties in a twist, so I thought and I thought and finally announced I had the perfect solution. I was very proud of myself, and everyone was waiting for my brilliant announcement. I decided I could sit in between with my parents, and my stepfather could sit on the other side of my mother.

I sat there basking in my own genius, waiting for the handfuls of praise I had coming my way. Won’t they be awed by my sensible problem solving capabilities, I thought. My mother looked at me smiling and said, "You know usually the bride sits by her husband..." I had completely & totally forgot Adam was going to be there. Folks that does not bode well for our future.

Not a Bridezilla, I Swear it

I have mentioned my wedding too many times this week I know (even I hate me, just kidding). But one last thing, I just wanted to take a second and do a little whoring. I just finished the wedding website-so check it out here, If you wanna.

Shame in Aisle 2

This weekend saw the event I have been looking forward to my entire life, even more so than getting engaged-I registered for my wedding! Is there any better feeling than shopping without spending a dime? It’s like getting absolutely everything you want from a store, without the item trying to make you feel guilty. I literally own a skirt that has the ability to shame me about the money I shouldn't have spent in the first place, to the point that I really never wear it much. This defeats the point of buying it in the first place and makes the money even more of a waste. Neurotic? Moi? Never?

We decided to register at two places-Target & Bed, Bath, & Beyond. It may be because their color is red, I worked there, are the have the cutest mascot ever, but to me Target has always seemed like an upgraded Wal-mart. Plus, I can admit to being a sucker for their advertisements. I’ve always been that way, I’ll see an infomercial and Ill want whatever Richard Karn (Al Borland from Home Improvement) is pushing. I mean who is more reassuring than Al Borland? And Bed, Bath, & Beyond not only has lovely things, it introduced me to courtesy flush, which is perfect for people like me who are nervous about getting down & dirty in public.

After fueling up on burger fries we went to Target first, where we got a little red scanning gun which we used to play cops & robbers in kitchen supplies. We got to debate the virtues of waffle makers & rainfall shower heads. There was a minor "discussion" about whether or not a big screen TV could be put on the registry, and I relented with the stipulation that I could add the hair straightner I was dying to get. But soon our time in Target was done and it was time to swing by the B, B, & B.

Bed, Bath, & Beyond was an infinitely more fancy process than registering at Target. Although my definition of classy is to refrain from picking your nose in public. The lady registering us, lets call her Steph, was explaining why their registry was so great and better than other stores like Target. Yes, she said Target. When she said the word Target I began to sweat, and prayed that she wouldn't notice the Target bag Adam was clutching. Because if she did notice we would be exposed, and she might do mean things to us like add the Jonas Brothers comforter set to the registry after we left the store. (And not the Hannah Montana one like we wanted).

Soon we were let loose in the store to do our damage, and we added around 50 items. When we finally finished, we had to meet back with Steph. I had a sneaky suspicion we were about to be put in the naughty chair, when she said, "Lets See How You Did." She was a little taken aback by the low number since they suggest registering for a lot of items. So I mumbled something about having to think about some items, or adding them online, and apologized over and over again. Even though it didn't matter. Adam didn't get why I felt so guilty, but all I know is if I ever feel like I’m disappointing anyone I start sweating like a hooker in church.

Attend At Your Own Risk

Yesterday I received the contract for the historical home Adam and I are getting married in next April. A contract that covers everything you could possibly imagine, and is 10 times as long as War & Peace. To be honest, I can't really be sure the contract is longer than the book because I've never read War and Peace. I would like to read War and Peace just so I could say I've read War and Peace, and it would make me seem smarter by default. Maybe instead of reading it, I could just sport some horn-rimmed glasses and carry the book under my arm instead. It would have the same effect, and give me that hot librarian look that all boys drool over. But I digress, I really only skimmed the contract before signing it. I'll probably live to regret that choice when I discover that I just signed away both my kidneys and my first born child.

But I did read enough to find a passage that made me snicker. Basically it stated that if anyone died during the ceremony for any reason at all, they were not in anyway responsible. From a class I took, I know if it truly is the place's fault that someone gets hurt, that contract is going to worth about as much as a pre-chewed piece of game. But now for fun I want to ask everyone who arrives to please don't die today, because I cannot afford it. Or at the very least I could post signs around the fencing that said, “Attend At Your Own Risk." Not unlike the signs you might see at the city pool.

I've long decided I like the idea of wedding planning more than actually planning the wedding itself. It is nothing like it seems in the movies. It’s kind of like how I love the idea of fishing, but then bug out when I have to touch the fish. Which is why when I fish I always have my handy, dandy big brother around to unhook it for me. But I don’t think my brother could be too much of a help with my wedding. On a completely random note that has no bearing on what we are talking about at all, I eat fish as long as it doesn’t look like fish. Look at this fish a fellow traveler ordered when I was in Israel.

I just realized how hairy that guy was.
Wedding planning is hard for me because of my legendary indecisiveness. I can not make a decision to save my life. It has a tendency to drive my friends and family a little bit nutty. But they put up with me, because I’m perfect in every other way (ha!). I do have the basics of the wedding worked out: the date, the color of the bridesmaid dresses (clover), who the bridesmaids are, and the venue. But I don't know about the food, music, my dress, and how to tell my one friend who just assumed she is a bridesmaid that she is not a bridesmaid (ouch). How do you handle that without hurting her feelings? And you can say it is my wedding, and I shouldn't worry about hurting her feelings! But don't you know me by now? I worry about everything. Let's just call it Meta Worrying.
Don't worry this isn't going to turn into The SuperGoddess’s Foolproof Guide to wedding planning. But if you have one of those guides you can pass it along. Just make sure it is completely fool proof, because I’m a higher class of fool. I know I have about 9 months to get this done, which seems like a lot of time. But the way I procrastinate that is not that much time at all. I know I'll get everything done, I always get everything done. But I deal with my moments of FREAKING THE EFF OUT. Because that’s just how I do.