First off--greetings from the Netherlands.
Last week at approximately noon, local time--me and my completely devastated cat touched down in Amsterdam after a 24 hour or so set of flights and lay overs. They were drama filled (as things usually go when I fly internationally) and some blood was spilled. But I will spare you the details--if only to save some humiliation on my part.
Mostly, things are settling down over here. We move into "married housing" next week. Dennis and I are both trying to get back to a healthy eating and exercise routine. Gizmo is enjoying her new and (apparently) delicious wheat/barley grass.
I'm back to wedding planning.
So yeah, it's been a while. And as most of you know, there is little over a couple of months now to what I'm calling W ("dub") Day. The vendors are settled, some of them are even paid (gasp). The ceremony is almost done. Invitations are happening (and yeah, we know--they're late). Plans are being laid. This leaves me in a place where, mostly, I'm just making final decisions.
Now, if you're reading this--you may or may not know me very well so I'll give you the benefit of a doubt. I'm hyper, weird, extroverted. Sassy and loudmouthed even with more than a little fondness for potatoes and scotch. But indecisive I ain't.
Let me tell you, readers. Planning a wedding makes you do crazy stuff.
This is a ballpark, mind you. I only wish that I had had enough foresight to actually log all the hours spent in the search of my bridal accessories. So I'll guess. And that guess is probably around--50 hours.
Veils? Necklaces? Earrings? Barrettes? Bracelets? Combs? DIY, buy it, or Etsy? Who the hell knows? I couldn't tell you the first thing about what I'm wearing aside from my big white dress and my birthday suit. I've had loads of ideas and the second the next cool idea wafts by my unsuspecting bridal nose, my mind is changed. All ideas are scrapped (unless I've committed money, and sometimes not even then...). New idea is go. Etsy browsing resumes. Amazon and Google Images are once again scoured.
The worst part is the shoes.
Ariel knows. It's practically a mental illness. First it was red dress sandals--a pair I saw in a magazine. Well, they don't make them in that color anymore. It only went downhill from there. Coral pumps, yellow chucks, rain galoshes with strawberry print--up to the latest fascination with cowboy boots. Can I make a decision to save my life? No way. I can't find the perfect pair of anything (which is now back to red satin... flats). Every shoe I find has something tiny and wrong with it, that makes it less than stunning to my messed up brain. Like all the dresses before mine (who I affectionately call "Addison"), they just weren't right. When I tried them on/found a picture on Google/stalked them on Etsy they didn't whisper "You're getting married in these."
But today, I think I get it.
That's because the perfect pair of shoes doesn't exist. They're a unicorn. And best of all--they don't even matter.
NO ONE IS GOING TO BE LOOKING AT MY FEET EXCEPT ME.
And probably Jakub. Because he likes shoes.
I have got to get over this.
And by that I mean, I need to give the rest of the decisions to Dennis (who is still capable of liking A over B or D over C, at this point).
He's already helped me sort of invitation madness (which is now being passed on to Ariel--BLESS HER HEART). You also have Dennis to thank for choosing our specialty cocktails--which I debated almost as much as shoes.
What's left? Largely table decorations, rentals, and votives. Though I'll have a lot to do at the last minute once I get back to Missouri.
In other news, bridesmaids Nasreen and Andreya have picked up their projects! Nasreen will be in charge of the DIY photobooth (woo!), and Dreya is brewing limoncello/orangcello as we speak. Yum!
-L
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