I like to think I was a tolerable engaged girl.
I wanted the wedding to be something sweet and simple and "impishly sophisticated", and luckily, my shoestring mother was offering to cook up such an affair the way she does. Plus I'd taken notes at Sarison's wedding 6 months prior. I picked my colors (black + white + accented pastel pink,) because I don't really feel I
have a color that is
ME ME ME, most pretty in my eyes, that I must wear morning, noon, and night, and don't really want one to be honest. I do like black and it's a color that's easily matched and I defy anyone that says there exists a closet in America without an article of the midnight hue. Black and white are crisp and clean. Pink is feminine. Lastly, when I was about 8 (?) my mother gave my sisters and I matching black velvet dresses with white lace and a pink satin knot at the neckline. I loved it. That was the first time I learned about an "accent color". It was my favorite part about Sunday from that day until it no longer fit, and it assuaged the resentment I felt that my mom wouldn't let me eat any of Cameron's Cheerios. So anyway that was the way I picked my colors.
Well lookie here! Imagine! I've completely drifted topic. Back to the mainland: I was a relatively chillaxed engaged girl. I only remember 1 hyperventilating moment. No, 2.
#1: When my beloved invitations finally arrived in the mail and Jeff started stuffing them a little "roughly". Saints preserve us!
#2: Checked The Weather Channel the Monday before the wedding and what do you know?? Deluge, deluge, deluge of Mother Nature's tears predicted on my wedding day. Alanis Morisette: This is not a situation to sing about. It is a situation to kick pigeons across Disneyland about.
Turn Out of Hyperventilation #1: At invitation 362, I was jamming those things in with less mercy than Stalin's Rottweiler.
Turn Out of Hyperventilation #2: Thanks to the Anti-Rain Dances performed by myself, Jeff, our sisters, and their offspring for 3-4 days, the rains cleared up SATURDAY MORNING. Miraculous! My mom told me on the way to the temple, "Merzy! The earth has been scrubbed for you!" My dad chuckled at that and then started spouting out something along the lines of, "LOOOOVE is a MAny SPLENDORED thiiiiiiiiiing!"
So, my point: my wedding planning went fairly smoothly, and I consider myself to be of even temper and little demand throughout.
Ok now, this is where it REALLY gets to become an AWESOME blog post: Wednesday evening before the wedding, I submitted my billable hours, set my "Out of Office" on Outlook, did a pirouette onto the elevator, and gave 100% of my energies to the wedding instead of 7%. Thursday morning I wanted to play with my DELICIOUS nieces and nephews who'd descended the night before, but I scampered over to our apartment in Huntington to await the internet installation fellow and the refrigerator's delivery. The Homestretch To-Do list was piling up and I was feeling the pressure and stress most keenly. After the apartment delivery I got in my car and practically floated my way down to San Clemente to have eyelash extensions installed by the lovely and fabulous Tristen Ure.
That's right, folks, these things aren't mine, and no one is more depressed about that fact than I. But for now I'll eat them up
(if you want to pick up some of what she's putting down, I'll get you her contact info. Just ask me).
Anyway I was with Tristen in San Clemente for a couple of hours. I got back in my car anxious to get back to my To-Do list, but
my car wouldn't respond.
Now, it's a funny thing because at first it seemed to be a problem of the alarm deactivation. I will spare you the details and my reasoning. But Tristen, a very busy yet selfless girl, drove me all around looking for a new battery for my alarm deactivator. Nothin doin. No one could get down there to pick me up without jeopardizing loads of other situations. As I walked around Walmart looking for the microscopic battery I thought I needed, surely about to lose it and lose it good, I felt to utilize Carl Winslow's heart attack elixer, those powerful and eloquent words,
"3-2-1, 1-2-3, What the heck is bothering ME?"
Giving up and embarrassed, Tristen drove me back to Irvine and I left my car in San Clemente. In the end, we worked out a time when someone could conveniently take me back to my car, we called AAA, and they came prepared to tow. In the end I just needed a jump start. A little more of my pride down the tubes.
SOOO the morale of the story (is anyone still reading this?): GET YOUR CAR CHECKED OUT AND TUNED UP 2 WEEKS IN ADVANCE. In fact, this advice goes to families about to welcome a wee baby, the men and women who rob banks, anyone relying on a speedy bit of transportation. You may think a lot of your car, but it doesn't care that there are 400 caramels needing to be wrapped and tied with pretty bows for the wedding reception. No, it really doesn't!
There you have it.
P.S. Today was supposed to be my first day back at work but 3 hours into my catch up mode, I was vomitacular. Caught it from the Jexies. Throwing up never was a good thing to do. Now here's Jeff bringing me some Sprite to guzzle...peace out.
