Sunday, March 29, 2009

liked it, put ring on it

I'm back. I'm exhausted, but otherwise unscathed. I have to say, I'm a lucky girl in that I not only have a fantastic husband-elect, but I also have some fantastic friends. Fantastic friends (and a sister) who will travel across a few states and into the arctic tundra that was Chicago this weekend, and whose idea of "flair ware" includes a tiara and awesomely cartoonish light-up "diamond" ring and tiara, but not a penis necklace or cake in sight. (Plus, those broads use the term "flair ware." Seriously.)

And because MMC is not only a star RSVP-er, but also a fantastic photographer, I can bring you these:

The ring:

The "groom" of these totally hilarious/amazing bottle costumes. Unfortunately, I don't have a great shot of the "bride"--complete with veil, but suffice it to say I nearly lost my shit at the dinner table when the wine bottles were outfitted.

Frankly, nothing too crazy happened. I don't know if that makes mine the best bachelorette party ever or the lamest. I'm going with best.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

last fling before the ring

I am sitting here waiting for my friends to arrive for us to embark upon my bachelorette party. Last night at Law School Prom someone let it slip that there is in fact a flag for the car which reads "last fling before the ring." I can only imagine what this means about the other "flair ware." Law Prom was also a great success--fun, boozy, everyone looked good, everyone thought I looked good--what more can a girl ask for?

Anyhow, I guess I should get dressed. Bachelorette partying probably requires something other than sweats.

Friday, March 27, 2009

aaaand we're off

The first RSVP card arrived today!! Congratulations to MMC for getting her reply back in a staggering 45 hours after they were sent! Well done, MMC and the USPS!

Did I put the RSVP card on the refrigerator? What's it to you?

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

they're out there

INVITATIONS HAVE GONE OUT. I am pleased as punch to have that done. Now just waiting for the flood of little bitty RSVP envelopes to arrive in my mailbox.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

love angel music baby

So things have certainly calmed down since last week "shit on my face" as I believe I so eloquently stated last time. I mean, it's not like I got phone calls from my future mother in law, friend with health scare, and employer all saying "JK! GOTCHA!" but I also haven't had anything else happen. And I'm chalking that up as a big ol' victory. Also, I finally had a couple of good workouts. In a row! (Like this morning, when I ran to Gwen Stefani and STILL HAVE THAT FRENCHING HARAJUKU NONSENSE STUCK IN MY HEAD.)

We also recieved our second wedding gift! And the first from our registry! (My grandmother previously sent us our knives, but bought them off a discount retailer's website, so it didn't show up in that oh-so-satisfying "Needs: 0 Recieved: 1" kind of way on the Bed, Bath, and Beyond website.)

I also recieved an invitation to my bridal shower. I don't fully understand the multiple showers thing. No, that's not true. I understand having a work shower and a regular shower. I understand having one shower in New York and one in California. I do not understand having multiple showers in the same city, really. I mean, can your fiance's aunts really not mingle with your aunts? It seems silly. Particularly when, like me, you have to travel in for each shower. So I told all interested parties to get it together because I'm only showing up for one of these shindigs. Only I tried to sound nicer and more appreciative that anyone would want to hold such a shindig in my honor.

Anyway, the invitations for said event arrived this week, and let me say this. It is clear that I did not have anything to do with the picking of these invitations. Which is fine. Actually, it's sort of inadvertently hilarious, I think. They are teal with a sort of pink and cream tea party scene happening on them. Then the lady who is (unbelievably graciously) hosting the shower and her daughter personalized them with a glitter pen and a heart-shaped punch. Seriously. Very sweet. Very....very. My sister has been helping this lady plan and I sort of thought she'd have a little input on the invites, so when I recieved them, I didn't want to say anything to her right away. Instead, I emailed both the co-planners to say I had recieved it, it was "cute," how excited I was and thanking them for planning the whole deal. You know, being polite. It's this weird thing I try sometimes. The following gchat transpired:

Chris: so
i didnt pick the invitation
can you tell? i think you probably can
me: hahahahaha
I thought about blogging about it
but decided to hold off until we had that exact conversation
Chris: yeah go for it
i got your email and i was like, phew
its cute
then i got the mail
me: haha
Chris: i mean
me: yeah, it's pretty awful
Chris: its fine
its fine
it gets the point across
its fine

So there you have it, folks. Fine.

Also, today my other bridesmaid and I shopped for literally like 7 hours and went to two malls and two free-standing shoe stores. At the second mall, about 6 1/2 hours in, I finally found a pair of shoes to wear to the rehearsal dinner (and, incidentally, with my rehearsal dinner dress to the Law School Prom--yes, that's a thing, because law school is as much like high school as it possibly could be--this Friday) so I am psyched.

And because I haven't posted photos in a coon's age, here's the dress:

and the accompanying shoes (which I think look more light/true red in person):

Cute, right? (Feel free to comment if the answer is "yes" and if not, feel free to keep your damn mouth shut.)

P.S. Thanks for voting in the poll over to the right, 5 voters. I am glad I have not offended you. Yet.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

when is this week over???

This should be the best week of the year so far. Springtime has more or less come, and one day I got to wear a skirt! With no tights! The sun shined (sometimes)! St. Patrick's Day was Tuesday, and as someone with some Irish heritage, reddish hair (i.e., looks good in green), and a love of beer green or otherwise, I LOVE that holiday. And it's March Madness. I LOVE March Madness. And yet somehow, this week shit all over me.

Monday I already posted about. It sucked.

Tuesday, the Mister called his mother and gave her the "it's not going to happen speech" which she did not take well. According to her, this wedding is "not just about [us]" and we don't care about her feelings. There's a whole other shitshow of things that were said during and after that conversation that are just CRAZYTOWN but I can't even think about them right now. Suffice it to say, though I am getting my way here, there were many tears shed by at least the two ladies in this fight and though our relationship may be fine, there are definitely a lot of hurt feelings hanging around.

Oh, also Tuesday, I learned about a good friend of mine's health scare. And it's, you know, scary.

Wednesday night I baked cookies rather than deal with feelings. It was only mildly effective.

This morning, I woke up and went to the gym (I know, go me, right?). I had a terrible work out. Terrible. To the point that I felt like I might as well not work out any more because clearly this is not getting any easier or getting me more in shape and I'm destined to be fat and sad forever. I come home and fire up the laptop to check my email and what's the first thing in my inbox, timestamped 9PM Wednesday night? An email from the cochair of the hiring committee of the law firm where I'll be working saying "Are you available for a phone conversation tomorrow [now today since I didn't check email last night]? Please let me know what times will work for you."

For those of you who have been living under a rock, the economy BLOWS right now. For those who don't follow the legal market as it relates to this shitty economy, let me just direct you to this: which is not for the faint of heart (I can't read it anymore.) In fact, it's in part because I can't read it anymore that I hadn't heard that my firm laid a bunch of people off last month. But I did of course know that firms are laying people off, delaying start dates, rescinding job offers to 3Ls (third year law students, like myself, who are about to graduate and expected to be starting in September). It's tough out there for a pimp. Or a JD.

Anyway, so back to the email this morning. I (obviously) freak the fuck out. Wouldn't you? Aren't you almost panicked reading this? (Unless you know the ending already.) I email the guy, Bob, back to tell him I have a class at 3:30 but otherwise am available to take a call. He emails back to say he'll call me by 1. Fine, I think. 3 hours of the knot in my stomach. I can handle that. 1 comes and goes. At 1:30, I email back to ask if I should still be expecting a call. He emails back quickly to say he'll call within 10 minutes. 30 minutes later, finally, the phone rings.

Bob and I exchange pleasantries. Then he gets down to brass tacks. There have been layoffs. The executive committee met last night and decided to delay my start date to January 2010 and cut my salary by nearly 15%. They also decided to rescind the offers to some of the other 3Ls in my class.

So, I still have a job. And I still have a high-paying job, frankly. It could be a LOT worse. But I also have to start making (LARGE) loan repayments about 3 months before I'll ever see a reduced paycheck. I have to find a place to live (and presumably pay for that place) for about 6 months before. Oh, and I have to pay for a wedding in the meantime. Awesome.

Monday, March 16, 2009

spitting fire

I’m so mad I almost can’t write this post. Almost.

I have often read accounts of other brides being forced to invite people by their parents or their in-laws and pitied said brides. I've often thought how lucky I am to have such an understanding family and future in-laws, unlike those poor, wretched souls. I should have known this would come back to bite me.

Two years ago (yes, literally), when the Mister and I first assembled our tentative guest list, I asked both sets of parents if there was anyone in particular they insisted we invite that we might not think of. I was told there surely wasn’t, and that however we wanted to do it was fine.

We made a big deal out of trying to keep it as small as possible, but still including all the really important people in our lives. (If it were just up to me, it’d be me, the Mister, and our immediate families on some deserted island. The Mister has a big family and they’re close, though, and so we decided to do it close to home and invite all of them. And I’m pleased we did.)

But so apparently The Mister’s Mom took this directive as “FAMILY ONLY, NO BLOOD RELATION, NO CARE,” which it wasn’t. When we said something about The Mister’s cousin’s live-in boyfriend (they’ve been dating for about 6 years or something, and he comes to all the family functions, and as far as I’m concerned, they might as well be married) being invited, she sort of flipped out. She was concerned that she had been spreading the wrong message to the family (which she had) and implied that this was my fault (which it wasn't). In order to placate her, I assured her I’d send her the guest list so she could see what we were thinking and let us know if we had somehow missed someone important. I should have known what I was really saying was “PLEASE, UNIVERSE, SMITE ME.”

She called the Mister the afternoon I sent her the guest list to discuss three people she was concerned we’d left off. Two were a couple that the Mister’s parents are friends with, and I’ve literally never met. One was a creepy dude who comes to the big camping trip the Mister’s extended family does every Memorial Day. I guess he’s a family friend, but he seriously skeezes me out. And if there’s something I don’t want to be on my fucking wedding day, it’s skeezed out. Regardless, she began pointing out people on the list who she didn’t think were as worthy of an invitation as these three (all our friends, natch). The Mister politely informed her that the people on the list were close to us, and her suggested additional invitees were not, and, furthermore, should we have room for three more people, there are many people closer to us than they that would be next on the list. However, we didn’t want to invite three more people at all because, as I mentioned earlier, we are trying to keep it as small as possible.

In fact, I had a full discussion with the Mister’s Mom a few months ago about the importance to me of keeping it small, and how this strong desire was not just money-related (though obviously that’s a constraining factor too). I want to know and love every single person there. I want to be able to talk to everyone. I want it to feel like a party and not some kind of business meeting. I want there to be a NO RANDOMS ALLOWED policy. And, frankly, I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Not even a little bit. Particularly when I’m paying for the fucking thing. But even if I weren’t.

Cut to this morning. At 8 AM, the Mister received an email from his mother which says:

Your father and I have talked extensively about the guest list that you sent us. I know that you do not feel compelled to follow the standards of common etiquette, but being old, I feel the need to. Because the wedding is so close to home, there are a few people that we need to invite. If the wedding were in Oshkosh, we could get away with not inviting. I checked the [wedding venue] and see that the tent will hold up to 250 people for a dinner, so space should not be an issue. We will be more than happy to pay for these additional guests. If you need additional to also cover the extra invitations, we will be happy to cover that also.

[She then lists 8 additional guests and their mailing addresses, including the couple she wanted to invite over a month ago, but not including the creepy dude. I have not met a single one of them. The Mister hasn’t met at least 2 of them. She then suggests seating arrangements for these guests and closes with…]

I am trying to live with your guidelines of keeping it small so you all can get around to talk to everyone. You do not have to feel compelled to talk to these people, that is our job. We will be happy to entertain them.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I threw what could charitably be referred to as a temper tantrum about it this morning, making the Mister (who is actually on my side here) mad at me. There are so many things about this that INFURIATE ME. Not the least of which is that apparently I do not feel compelled to “follow the standards of common etiquette.” Oh, and that she doesn’t care at all about what I want for my wedding day. Oh, and that she’s pulling this shit exactly 2 months before the wedding (when the invitations, by the way, have already been printed). Oh, and that she suggests that instead of getting to talk to all the guests like we wanted, we just not do that. Oh, and that insists that they “need” to invite these people WHO I’VE NEVER FUCKING MET. No. That is not a need. That is a want. And that is also not. going. to. happen.

Friday, March 13, 2009

out of the closet, into the light

So last week I posted a comment on a "real life" friend's blog (the always hilarious bruns) without even thinking about it. As soon as it posted, however, I realize: I've outed myself. Bruns and our many other friends who read it have now discovered I have a blog. And not just a blog. A fucking wedding blog. It's humiliating. But nonetheless, welcome friends. I guess I should be pleased to no longer be living a lie.

In the spirit of confessions, I have another. I have been tanning. Not a lot. Like, once a week for 8 minutes in the lowest-level bed Tanfastic (yes, it's really called Tanfastic) has to offer. I have only two things to say about this: (1)I actually do believe I have seasonal affective disorder, and this has genuinely improved my mood, and made a couple spots of psoriasis I have notably improved. (2) Fuck all y'all, it's my wedding. If I don't want to look like the corpse bride, I'm not going to. If that means going to the trashiest establishment in town and slinking out like I just stole something, hoping not to run into anyone I know, SO BE IT. At least I'm not getting acrylic nails and blonde highlights. FOR NOW.

Sunday, March 8, 2009


I have decided I hate wedding blogs. That's an overstatement. I have decided I am sick of most wedding blogs. I still love the individual brides blogging about their interesting or personal details of their own up-coming or recently-passed weddings. What I hate are the big, pretty conglomerate sites with their gorgeous (though frankly, after a while, totally indistinguishable) photos and supposedly helpful tips. You are not helpful. You are not inspirational. You are irritating to me right now.

This is the post that threw me over the edge. Here are my thoughts, as I'm reading the post...

1. Hey, her name is Kate! Awesome!
2. Oh, and her fiance is a law student! So she knows law school sucks!
3. Wait, "the trick to this whole planning thing for me has been including him without interrupting his vital study time"? Seriously? Ooookay.
4. She's referring to her fiance as Superman? Is that what I'm to understand?
5. I'm just going to post the rest of the article in its entirety because it is so mind-blowing/numbing:

In an effort to give Superman a choice, I researched around 75 bakeries and narrowed it down to 40, then presented him with those options. He was overwhelmed and I translated that as disinterest. He became frustrated and after some thoughtful discussion, he said something brilliant.

"We can’t do everything. We have to pick what’s best. Best for us; Best for our wedding, yes, but best for our time and schedules.”

This outlook was new to me and oh so very helpful in the many discussions since. I just have to keep in mind that sometimes, protecting our stress levels and schedules is just as much a design decision as protecting our need to have the best baker in the city.

The stress of planning a wedding can be compounded by so many everyday requirements. I’m glad to be planning a wedding that reflects where we are right now, with all the challenges and difficulty this time includes. Will it reflect a couple who had hours and hours to call every baker in town? No. It will reflect a couple who made stylish choices in the face of other responsibilities and pursuits. I hope, and oh how I know it will reflect a couple deep enough in love to withstand a 2000 mile separation. A couple prepared for a lifetime of obstacles and happiness.

She asks whether her wedding will reflect a couple who had hours and hours to call every baker in town, and then says it won't. Well, somehow she found the hours and hours necessary to call or otherwise research SEVENTY FRENCHING FIVE BAKERS and then narrow them down to FORTY and was pissy when her Superman couldn't find time to call each one and find the best of them all. She thinks it's a revelation when her Superman tells her they need to do what's best for them?! Really?

Anyway, I shouldn't be so harsh on this poor Kate. It's not her. It's me. I've been reading these blogs for much too long now and it's posts like this one--every day, posts like this one--that have rotted my brain.

These posts aren't even as bad as the others like "We have THE LOVELIEST WEDDING OF ALL TIME to show you" with photos (where the photographer certainly cost over $5,000) of things like huge centerpieces I can tell you definitely cost over $100 a piece with little notes saying things like "the bride wanted all her guests to feel welcome, so she wrote them each an individual note telling them how happy she was that they came all the way to Timbuktu for her wedding." Subtext: why aren't you writing individual notes to your guests, you lazy, ungrateful woman? "The bride is a graphic designer, so she designed her own amazing, letterpress invites (at half the cost!)" Half of a zillion dollars is still a half-zillion dollars, but the subtext? Why can't you be crafy enough to do things for your wedding too, lazy? Or why can't you just suck it up and spend the money on pretty invitations--you really need to have them. "The bride wanted to save money on the dress, but as soon as she put on this Vera Wang gown, she knew it was The One, so she just had her friend the tailor make her a reproduction." Subtext: I need new friends, apparently.

I will probably come back and edit this post to be somewhat more coherent when I'm in less of a wedding fatigue-induced rage. But until then, let me say this: "style me pretty" doesn't even make sense. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? WHY WOULD YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT?

Thursday, March 5, 2009

springtime, please

I got back from my lovely San Francisco trip Monday and have been mostly worthless since then. Seriously. I have skipped half of my classes this week, done very little of my reading, generally failed to study for the ethics portion of the bar exam which I have to take on Saturday, and hadn't worked out until this morning. I think I'm experiencing some serious end-of-winter ennui, coupled with a bad case of senioritis. Too bad spring won't come to the frozen arctic wasteland I'm currently stuck in for another 2 months or so, and I still need to, you know, graduate.

So the invitations lady sent more paper samples. I still don't like them. (Seriously, is emerald really that weird?) But you know what else I don't like? Not having them done. So I just went with it. Whatever. Ideally, I'd like for invitations to go out next weekend, so you know, no time for pussy-footing around.

And the officiant lady emailed me to be like "so...about that wedding thing..." and I emailed her back to be like "yeah, we should do that." So I guess that's done.

The other day I was talking to the Mister, and he said something to the effect of "I really can't wait until this wedding planning stuff is over." Which I wholeheartedly agree with, but I also wonder what the hell I'll obsess over next. Also, wtf? He's ready for it to be over? As though he's been doing a lot of the planning? Though maybe it's more of a commentary on life with me through the process...