About Time

Today, I am proud to be a Californian. I am happy my friends can marry whomever they want. And I can't wait to vote same-sex marriage into law in November! 'Bout time!!!

Dress Regrets

It’s so wild to think that a year ago I was gearing up for our wedding. I was perusing websites, gathering more ideas, sticking stamps to invitations and fretting over details like escort cards, which we didn’t use. Maybe because I’m a girl and slightly crazy, but occasionally I still think about what I wish I’d done differently or went differently. I loved our wedding so I have no idea why I dwell on the things that I cannot change. Like the dress I wore to the rehearsal dinner.

Sometime last spring, my cousin asked me if I was going crazy and buying new clothes for everything. I prided myself in how simple things were and how I was watching money since we paid for part of the event. I had a bright green dress that I liked a lot, and said, “Nope. I’m going to wear a dress I already have.” And I did.

Before I criticize myself any further, I will remind myself I was super sick, pumped full of antibiotics and praying I felt better for the actual wedding day (I did). All I wanted to do was to lay in bed and have my mom wait on me, but we had a town full of guests and lots of events planned so I had to rally and drag my sick ass self to get my nails done, throw a luncheon and host a pre-wedding barbeque/rehearsal dinner.

I look back on the pictures and think, “Why didn’t I have my hair done for the rehearsal dinner? A simple blow-out would have look TONS better than that frizzy pouff on my head.” Note to self: If an event centers around you (baby shower), spend the time and money on a blow-out! (Yes, I live in LA.)

In the few hours between the luncheon and the rehearsal/barbeque, I lay around on the couch, sipped hot ginger tea in 90 degree weather and wished yet again that I didn’t have to drag myself to a party filled with people I hadn’t seen in years who were coming to see me. I mean, I wanted to see them; I just wanted to feel good.

But what I really wonder is why I let my cousin’s comment stop me from buying an absolutely fabulous dress. I guess I keep thinking about this because wedding season is upon us, and I see great potential rehearsal dinner dresses everywhere. Maybe it has something to do with the fact I can’t buy them now to wear because of the bun in my oven. Maybe I’m just fantasizing because in a year, I’ll probably be covered in baby snot and baby puke and baby diapers and the idea of wearing a stunning dress will be a faint memory or a future fantasy.

We are going to a wedding a two weeks. I found a cute dress at the Gap that I can wear with these strappy silver sandals I already have, and when my pregnant self can’t handle them anymore, I can put on silver flip flops. I think I’ll look fabulous, or at least semi-fabulous.

The Honey Pot

Like most brides, I think our wedding was wonderful. We were surrounded by family and close, amazing friends who came in from everywhere (Germany, Colorado, California, Massachusetts, Virginia, New York , a 19-hour drive from Wisconsin!, Arizona and more places). It was like being in a honey pot –surrounded by so much love and support. My mom and I joke about the honey pot – being surrounded by love. I feel like that when my mom is in town, and I have her and my husband (!) with me. A wedding is the mack-daddy of honey pots.

My beautiful cousins (who could wear whatever they wanted in the pink/orange/red family) served as bridesmaids and nieces and a best friend's daughter were our flower girls/pink princesses.

Talk about laid-back, the groomsmen were chosen that week. His brother, his oldest friend, my brother, my cousin-in-law, plus a nephew for the ring "helper."

I don't even know where to start recounting our wedding. It's so much to take in and experience. It felt like a whirlwind - like time was on fast-forward. People told me to videotape it because I wouldn't remember much of it. We didn't, but I do remember the main parts of it. I had fun. In fact, I had a blast. I was grinning from ear to ear all day. I was nervous waiting to walk down the aisle, the first and only time during the whole process. I could hear the violin, and then people cheering for my husband. We asked our family and friends to call us to the wedding with nicknames, pet names and our own names. It was amazing to hear my husband's name being called, to see him enter into the garden, and say, "I can't hear you!" The crowd loved it, and cheered louder.

After I entered, he kissed me. Whoops....

My dad, my mom and I waited in the wings for my name to be called. The crowd let out whoops of joy, calling my name and the nervousness I felt earlier disappeared. I entered the garden between my parents, and was flooded with love and jubilation. I was smack in the middle of the honey pot, and life couldn't have been grander. My future husband stood in front of me, my parents were beside me and my closest friends and family plus my new family surrounded me. It was, to use a cliche, heaven on earth.

As I stood, reciting the vows I wrote for my husband, I looked into his eyes, and the rest of the people melted away. It was just us, together, saying how much we love each other, how important we are to each other and how excited we are to take this journey together.

And then, bam! We were married! And the party started, and the chaos kicked back in as people moved from the garden to the tent and the photographer gathered the wedding party together for more pictures. I never saw the tent before everyone walked in. In fact, I never saw the garden until I walked in. The flowers that were supposed to decorate the alter were missing. The sake and cups for the sake ceremony were missing. And none of it mattered. It all looked beautiful and worked out perfectly.

We're married!!!

More on the reception later....

Dewy vs. Shine

A bride should glow. She should look dewy and fresh like spring time. Or so the make-up artist at Barney’s decided. He said I should have a little shimmer on my upper cheeks so that when I turned just so, the light would catch and I’d look like I was glowing. He charges $300 for wedding day make-up so clearly, he should know how to look on a wedding day. The woman my mom has lined up for me in North Carolina charges $45. I mean, it’s North Carolina and not Los Angeles, but I decided I didn’t trust an NC make-up artist especially if she’s so cheap. Did anyone hear that bullet go into my foot?

Hair, I will pay for. I will live if it looks a little funny because honestly, I can’t do my hair to save my life unless we are talking a pony tail. But make-up? Make-up is like art. I’ve even been complemented on my make-up.

So, when we were at Barney’s last weekend, I decided to handle the make-up issue. I headed over to the Sue Devitt counter, who makes really nice make-up, and let Daniel take over my face. He took a whopping hour and a half to put on my wedding day face (including starting, removing everything and starting again). I looked, if I may say so, radiant. He did my eyes in this glimmering gold, but not Goldfinger gold. Just elegant with a chocolate brown liner and lush, thick black lashes. My lips were painted a bright, YSL red (their color was better – loved that he wasn’t limited by his own brand). My cheeks glowed and shimmered.

I happily purchased the items that weren’t in my make-up arsenal ($195 later the $45 NC make-up artist was sounding okay) and headed home.

I decided my mom needed to see how great the make-up looked so I insisted my fiancé take some pictures of me to email her. In the pictures, my face didn’t look glowing or dewy. I looked like a big, greasy, shiny mess. The flash bounced off my cheek, illuminating it in a bad, non-glowing way.

On the bright side, I stopped to get some tacos for lunch while made up like a bride. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any cash, so I couldn’t get anything. I was getting ready to walk away when the counter guy forced chips and salsa on me for free, insisting that I should have something. It may look shiny, but I looked good enough to get free food. If only it photographs as well.

Lipstick would help deflect from the "dew."

The Earrings

After much searching (mostly online), I found these gorgeous earrings by Dana Kellin at my friend Jessica's shop Chelsea in Boulder. If you're ever there, you should stop in.

I think they are so elegant and pretty and special... and I couldn't be happier that things are finally falling into place!

Now, I only need to find the ring....

The Elusive Shoes

It’s beginning to fall into place. This week, I’ve checked off: shoes, make-up and jewelry (posts to follow).

The shoes eluded me. I’ve looked for shoes in Barney’s, Nordstrom’s (Los Angeles, Austin), small boutiques (Los Angeles, Austin, Boulder), in magazines and on-line where, I thought I found some. They arrived yesterday, and were lovely. Gorgeous. And a size too big. I went into a panic when I couldn’t get on to their website to see if they had a smaller size available. So, last night, in an obsessive fit, I went to DSW, which was fruitless, and Nordstrom Rack, where I found…. TA-DA! My wedding shoes!! Yes, in amongst the piles of crap shoes with missing straps, scuffs and general ugliness, I found the perfect shoes for our wedding location. Low, wedge-heel silver sandals. I never would have looked twice at them in Nordstrom, but at the Rack, I had an open, desperate mind.

They kind of exude Miami grandma, but I swear, they are cute in person. Or at least cute enough. Last night, I thought they were even a little sexy.

I also found of pair of completely cheesy, bride-like flip-flops with pearls on them. Oh, I’m a bride!! I’m a bride!!

Mama Love

Yesterday, I asked my mom if she could think of anything else I needed to get in LA for the wedding since I only have two more weekends here to run errands. She goes, “Like what?” Like paper lanterns people hang in trees or ribbons for center pieces. We have Chinatown and Little India. Did I mention Little Tokyo or the fabric district?

“What for?” she asked. It was then I remembered who I was talking to. My mother, wonderful, loving, caring, funny mom, is not the party giver in my family. She always made the house look pretty for my birthdays. She used to layer three different colored square cloths (emerald green, fuchsia and golden rod) from Japan on our long wooden table. She put bright yellow branches of forsythia in a big vase. It was more natural, and I loved it. She is not into the minute details of weddings or large events even though she has an amazing eye.

For my brother’s wedding, she kind of freaked out. Actually, she completely freaked out. She sprouted horns and a crazy look in her eyes. They kind of glowed with hysteria. At the time, I was working as an event planner in Colorado. I threw weddings as a career.

My brother’s wedding was in the middle of a July afternoon on top of one of the Smoky Mountains. It was decided we should have water for the guests during the ceremony so I suggested we get small water bottles, fill a tub with ice and let people grab them. To which, my mother replied, “Sarah, I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”

Um, okay. Sorry for the completely ridicules, off-the-wall suggestion. Next time I’ll suggest digging a well and making people lower a bucket and haul their own water.

Needless to say, I approached the planning of our wedding with my mom with some trepidation. As the months passed, mom proved the horns a creation from her past boyfriend (luckily out of the picture). She realized that I like spreadsheets. That I make lists of questions. That I am slightly insane when it come to planning. Let’s be honest. I don’t make the big bucks as an executive assistant without some planning. With my brother’s wedding, she felt like she did everything. This time, she feels like she isn’t doing anything, which isn’t true. She follows up on the emails I send her (email! My mom! Checking it regularly!), she calls the people I ask her to immediately.

People look at me like I am crazy when I say that my mom is doing a lot to help me. Like, hello! Moms live for this shit. Most moms might, but not mine. Mine prefers a quiet afternoon canoeing on the lake, floating on our backs in a cove. She prefers a yoga class followed by a night of contra dancing. She prefers going to the movies with me and eating a dinner of popcorn and Junior Mints. But she’s happy to help because I am happy.

Now, if we can just find her some sassy shoes for dancing. She’s not looking for Manolo’s or Jimmy Choo’s. She’s looking for good shoes that will turn and flex and support her feet while looking pretty. She said she’s not wearing her black contra dance shoes with her pink dress, but I said I didn’t care if they made her happy.

Real Planned Weddings

My friend Megan got married in March. In my haze of wedding planning, I forgot to post pictures. She got roped into having her wedding on HGTV. I can't remember the show, but something about landscaping. So, all they had to pay for was their clothing, the food and the alcohol. HG TV paid for everything else. I was jealous until she told me they had to do all of these interviews about how they met, picked a wedding planning and all the other things that make for good TV.

I haven’t seen the show, but the wedding was really pretty.

Flowers

Looking from the cake back to the "alter" and the pool.

The Story of the Ring (con't)

A ring. A symbol of love. The symbol of an everlasting circle. The diamond ring. A symbol of just how much he loves you. A broken diamond ring. A symbol of just how much a pain it is to get one of these things right. The ring, not the relationship. He’s still very much the right one.

In the big picture, the search for the ring is a cakewalk compared to finding the giver of the ring, but seriously, is there a bride out there who has had as many issues with her ring as I have?

Let me recap. I stupidly decided I HAD to choose my ring. Just HAD to. Then I realized that there is a reason brides don’t do this. Guilt. When I saw those price tags, I envisioned a new car. And a car is much, much bigger than a ring. Then I had to have an organic looking ring made by an independent jeweler. Of course the jeweler I picked is in CANADA so we paid FedEx TWICE to look at the ring. And FedEx to Canada isn’t cheap. Then, in a moment of clarity, I found the setting I wanted just two miles from home. We bought it, and sent it off to New York to have a diamond from a dealer set in it. My brother flew it out here (I’m skipping about a million steps in between like my friend taking it out to Brooklyn so my brother could bring it to me), and Ta-DA! I had a gorgeous ring with a stunning diamond. I was ecstatic. I FINALLY felt like a bride and had a shiny ring to show off.

Then, TRAGEDY. I was doing extreme power lounging on the couch last night while watching bad reality television. In a power lounging readjustment I felt the weight on my hand change. I looked down, expecting to see a loose diamond freed from the shackles of an engagement ring setting. But no, I saw the WHOLE SETTING broken off of the ring. BROKEN. SNAPPED. NO LONGER WEARABLE.

My sweet, concerned fiancé noted that I shouldn’t have put all my weight on it when I changed positions. I AM ON A COUCH ON PILLOWS. I BRUSHED MY HAND ACROSS A PILLOW. A PILLOW!!!! And the bloody thing broke. Correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t this ring supposed to last me until I DIE? Clearly, I’m going to do a lot more than lay on the couch before I die.

Why does this have to happen three days before I fly to Colorado for my friends’ wedding and showing off my ring? Really, WHY??? At least it didn’t happen three days before OUR wedding. A small glimmer of light.

Look, girls! Check out my fancy ring!

Southern Charms

In my quest for wedding ideas, I’ve stumbled across a few things that I’ve thought were a little crazy. Over the top floral arrangements, horse drawn, rose-covered carriages. Things that bring to mind, “They are spending way too much on one day.” Then there are things that I just wonder about. Like ice sculptures. I like ice sculptures as much as the next person. You know, in that cheesy sort of cool way. So, in a moment of boredom, I flipped through the pages of an ice sculpture company in North Carolina. Apparently, ice doesn’t always have to be boring. Now I’m trying to figure out how I can incorporate this into our wedding weekend.

I mean, nothing says a good time like a penis shooter.

May the Force be with us

The invitations are out!

Luckily for us, the postage rate changed just before we decided to mail our invitations. FYI: if postage rates are going to change around when you send out an important mailing like, oh say, wedding invitations, you might want to buy stamps ahead of time or make your own online. When I went to the post office I had a choice of:
- American Flags
- Liberty Bells
- Star Wars

I think our invitations might be the first stamped with Darth Vader and Darth Maul. Neither of whom really conjure up images of sweet, wedded bliss. I really like the Han Solo and Chewy ones, and the Princess Leiah and R2D2 ones are pretty cool, too. I thought the Millennium Falcon was pretty ambiguous as was the Death Star, but I HAVE THE DEATH STAR ON MY WEDDING INVITATIONS!! What does that say about our marriage??

On the bright side, Star Wars was a huge part of the 70s childhood so I feel okay using them. Yoda and Storm Troopers… all cool. Of course, the Darth Vader stamp is HUGE and unless the recipient is blind will they miss it, and last I checked, all of our guests are seeing.

Secretly, I think it’s kind of cool that we have Star Wars stamps on our invitations because I have to admit, I was sick of all the love bird stamps.

It's in the details

It’s almost official. People know we are getting married. We sent out save the date cards. We (okay, I) added to the list (the dreaded invitation list), but no one is OFFICIALLY invited YET. That is, until early next week. Or so I hope.

I picked-up our invitations at the post office yesterday. I had them hand-silk-screened in Providence because that makes so much sense (I love the internet). I can’t remember how I found Heather, but I am sure it was somehow related to Design Sponge. She has the best links to things.

The bottom line is that I LOVE our invitations. I never thought a little ink and some paper could make me so happy. I’m sure we could have cut corners on this one and printed them ourselves. But really, how many corners can one cut? There have to be some things that make my heart sing.

As anyone knows who’s read along for a little bit, I am a reluctant wedding spender. I really don’t want to get caught up in all the frills and crazy details that no one remembers. Few people will probably remember our invitations, but they make me happy. Is that what the “crazy” details are to others? Just things that make them happy? Hmmm….something to think about.

Check out Heather’s things here.

Give us MORE!

As if all the wedding magazines out there aren’t enough to make me feel like I need to do MORE with my day. MORE flowers! MORE favors! MORE themes! MORE hair, make-up, dress, ribbon, photos, chair covers, lighting! MORE EVERYTHING!!! I’ve found that there are blogs devoted to making this one day even more amazing (said with a hint of sarcasm).

Yes, if I am lucky, and I plan to be, I will only get married once. I will also only have my first child once, my second child once, graduate from college once, fall in love with my future husband once and loads of other things that I will only do once. How this day got so completely blown out of proportion, I have no idea.

One theory that I recently read (but can’t remember where – sorry), thinks that since women (it’s mainly women creating these days) aren’t worrying about moving in or losing their virginity anymore, they need something to MARK this major change. A blow-out, knock-down gorgeous day is the only way to truly mark it. Or so this one person thought.

I think the whole greening of the country is also making us more aware of how much is wasted on weddings and how this waste effects the earth. By chance, and some thought, my wedding is semi-green. I am wearing a recycled (sounds so much better) dress, thus not creating more waste by creating more fabric. We are using locally grown flowers. No airplane flight for them (I won’t mention that we plus many of our guests are flying there). We are using rental plates instead of disposable. Okay, this is because I hate disposable plates at weddings, but my mother pointed out they are much better for the earth.

We are hardly perfect, and yes, we are spending money that doesn’t need to be spent. We could have gone to the court house or Big Sur for an elopement, but I really want to mark the day with family and friends. I don’t need fireworks or skywriters to make it special. My friends and family will be enough. But hell if it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg to feed the crew.

Anyway, I’m trying to keep it all in perspective as we get closer to the day. I’m still reading wedding blogs, which have beautiful pictures and some good, cheap ideas. I haven’t looked at a wedding magazine since I flew to Portland in April (what else was I supposed to read at the airport? I already read People). All in all, right now I’m pretty mellow about the wedding. Maybe Xanax does do something….