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.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
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?
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:
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.
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
yes
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
um
fine
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 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:
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.
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.
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.
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