Okay, I'm not gonna lie. I have been dying to get back on here and tell you all the terrible awful ending to my saga with the florist. I grew up in Bath County, and know many wonderful, wonderful people there. This is in no way meant to judge them all, or put a bad name on them. Small town folks are often the most wonderful, kindest people I encounter. But this woman, this awful woman, absolutely has disgusted me beyond belief. She turned something so simple into something so awful. Wedding flowers should NOT be what I stress over. And I am very happy to say I already have a new florist who is a dear woman whom I adore, and she is so kind and sweet, and couldn't believe what I've gone through. She is going to make my day perfect, and I have let go of the terrible awful. Well, I will. As soon as I tell the rest of the story.
So. Upon further thought and reflection on what Sharita put us through last week, my mom and I talked about it and decided we should probably go with another florist. Honestly, with how awful she acted I was scared my flowers would either A) Not be ordered and/or arrive in time for the wedding or B) She would purposely sabotage my flowers. Neither thing seemed worth risking.
On Saturday I had my make-up trial number 2 scheduled (which by the went awesome!! shew!!), and this florist happened to be on our way there. We were SUPER nervous since she still had my mom's Bible. So we opted to not call ahead. Yes, it was actually so bad that we felt this woman would vandalize it if she knew we were going to cancel. So instead we decided just to pop in to good ol' Kountry Krafts and Floral on Main Street (side bar, my friend Lynn was right. Never trust someone who spells Kountry with a K. )
Mom walks up to the counter and Sharita is standing there. She didn't greet mom or say hello, she just stopped what she was doing and stared at mom, I guess waiting on her to speak first.
Mom: I would like to pick up my Bible and ribbon, and cancel the order I placed last week.
Sharita: I KNEW you would come back and cancel. Sharonda and I talked about you all week, and she told me you would cancel. I'm not surprised to see you.
Mom: Really? Well, I am canceling because of YOU. You are RUDE. You were rude and disrespectful the entire time my daughters and I were here.
Sharita: What?! I wasn't rude!!!
Mom: Well, you were. But that is beside the point. I'd like my Bible please.
Sharita: I was NOT rude to you. Not at ALL.
Mom: My Bible please.
At this point, Sharita starts crawling around on the ground acting like she had to access the catacombs of Transylvania to get the Bible. She finally stands up and it is still in the same bag along with the two things of ribbon. Mom reaches out to take the bag, and Sharita moved it AWAY. She then took out the two things of ribbons and threw them across the counter at my mom.
Ummmm.....NO.
She then takes the Bible out and slams it down on the counter and it slides towards mom and says, "There's your Bible. Will that be all?"
Mom: No, that will NOT be all. I need you to sign and date the receipt stating that the order has been canceled.
Sharita: Honey, I'm not signing anything. Have a good day.
Mom: Yes, you are. I need you to verify that this order is canceled.
Sharita: Oh, you want it verified honey? (she picks up her copy of the receipt and holds it in front of my mom, and proceeds to rip it up into a hundred tiny pieces.) There honey. It's verified.
Mom: Fine. Then sign MY copy.
At this point, Sharita actually leans over the counter to physically grab the receipt out of my mom's hand. Mom held it up high, and Sharita leaned further to grab it again. Mom stuffed it in her purse before she could try again.
Mom: You absolutely will never have my business, or the business of ANYONE I know ever again. Which is unfortunate for you because I know a lot of people.
Sharita: Bye.
By the time mom was in the car, she was fuming and I thought she was going to cry. I was SOOOOO angry. I have never actually been treated like this before. It was awful. And this is the OWNER of this shop. Not just a random teenager working on Saturdays to earn a dime. No people, she is the owner. So disgusted. I already know of a good solid 10 people who will not be taking their business here any longer who have went there for years. Ugh.
Okay, so now that my level of anger has risen again.....
Anyway, that all happened Saturday. Although, we did manage to salvage the day once we finally calmed down. As I said my make-up trial went perfect. I loved the young girl who did it, and no blisters were had. Then mom and I did some Goodwill shopping, shoe-shopping, and dinner, and then went home and worked on wedding stuff. We ordered the Flower Girl dress, the cake topper, and a few other odds and ends. We managed to still laugh and be happy, and if nothing else find peace in the fact that the saga is over, the Bible is in our hands, and we have a new florist. Thank goodness!!
Yesterday turned out to be a crazy hectic day. Andrew texted me early yesterday morning after I got to work to tell me that Lucy had something wrong with her. She was screaming and having a bunch of odd symptoms, so we rushed her to the vet. Turns out she was passing a foot-long tapeworm. Hands down the creepiest thing I have ever seen. They have her medicines and she has calmed, but it got wrapped around her little organs, and her little butt has some problems. We are keeping an eye on her and go back next week for follow-up. She is resting with me today at work, sleeping in the corner.
After all the scare with little Lucy, yesterday afternoon I decided to lie down and take a nap. Right as I did, the phone rang, and it was my bridal store. I knew my dress was supposed to arrive any day now, so I just knew that's what they were calling to say! And they were!!!! Except not. Apparently, my dress did arrive yesterday. But when they received it, it was completely damaged somehow in the shipping process, and was torn and covered in stains. :( I wanted to cry. I really, truly did. I had already had one setback this weekend when I found the PERFECT purple Vera Wang shoes on Ebay, and I was alllll set to order them when *poof*. Someone else bought them. Right before my eyes. It wasn't even an "auction" it was a "Buy It Now" so I really thought it was all good. So when they called to tell me my dress had been ruined, I very calmly listened to everything she had to say. How this has never happened, it is unheard of, it is unacceptable, they are devastated. They have already rush-ordered a new dress to be made, and it WILL be here with plenty of time to have alterations done before the wedding. They promised and promised and promised.
But still.
I hung up the phone. I crawled back into bed. And I cried. I just ugly cried. I cried for my lost shoes. I cried for my awful mean florist. I cried for my destroyed dream dress. I cried for my eye blistering up. I cried for my delayed invitations. I cried for my music contract being lost. I cried for my sick puppy. I just....cried. This one thing, this ONE thing that I had begged and pleaded in my head to please go perfectly, just crashed and burned, and it was the final straw. Somewhere in my tears, Andrew scooped me up and whispered to me how it was okay. How this wasn't my dress, but this next one is. How I'm beautiful no matter what. How none of this matters, it's all about US and our love. And I love and adore him for it. But I just wanted to cry. So I did. And he understood.
Sometime in my teary haze, I fell asleep. I woke up 4 hours later, feeling like I'd had a bad dream or something. But I felt better. The sleep took the edge off my exhaustion. The tears took the edge off my emotional state. And anything that was left, was healed up by a long conversation with my momma, and then a nice quiet night in with my Andrew.
This whole thing has been a whirlwind, but I honestly wouldn't change it for the world. I'm still excited and ready for my big day. And I'm actually so used to things going wrong at this point, I'm not so sure I'll be surprised by anything. Hey, I've had plenty to blog about and plenty stories to tell, and many memories to make. Lets face it, this would have been a pretty dull blog if it all went right.
So I'm going to wait patiently for my dress. I'm going to LOVE my new florist (and hiss at the old one every time I pass the store.) My makeup and hair will be wonderful. We shall all eat, drink, and be merry. In precisely 2 months 13 days 1 hour 35 minutes and 54 seconds I will marry my best friend. Now who can't be over the moon happy about that?!
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
$#!T Happens
I would like to dedicate this post to all the brides out there who have a fairytale vision of how everything is going to happen for your wedding. To all the brides who make their lists, and pick their colors, and fantasize about every last detail as they lie awake at night smiling up at the stars. To all my Cinderella wanna-be's. I have one very simple key phrase of advice for you all: Shit happens.
This weekend I had scheduled another big day of wedding to-do's, this time with my mom and sisters in tow. I had appointment schedule to meet with the florist, my hair stylist, and my make-up artist. I seriously began the day with SO much excitement, and just knew by the end of the day I was going to look beautiful and finally be able to visualize what I would look like for my big day. I even teased Andrew all morning that I was going to take down my hair and take off the make-up before I got home so that he wouldn't see how I was going to look for our wedding. I felt very confident and excited!!!
The morning began at the florist. Let me paint you a picture.
About 3 months ago my mom called our would-be florist and spoke with her on the phone about every last detail of flowers needed for our wedding. She gave us wonderful prices, was so warm and excited and all was well.
About 2 months ago, our florist up and peaced out and sold the business to a friend of hers. So my mom immediately called the new lady, whom I'm going to be polite and change her name to Sharita to protect her identity. Sharita spoke with my mom, and assured her everything would be fine with her being the new owner, and my mom went through our list again and all was well.
Saturday. My sisters, mom and myself arrive at Sharita's Shop. We politely go up to the counter and tell her why we were there. We had called ahead and made an appointment, but she was clearly very annoyed that we were suddenly all there. Mom pulled out her handy dandy notebook where she had written all the things. Every flower. Every price. Every conversation. And she starts by going over the large arrangements for the altar, which Sharita had promised us would be a certain price. The rest went vaguely like this:
Sharita: Um. Where did you get those prices?
Mom: From you.
Sharita: No you didn't. I can't do anything for those prices.
Mom: But...you gave these prices to me. Twice. I wrote them down.
Sharita: No I didn't.
Mom: Yes you did. So did Sharonda.
(At this point, Shardona, whose name has also been changed to protect her identity, just happened to be in the back of the store that she no longer owns.)
Mom: ShaRONDA! Get over here!
Enter: Sharonda
Sharonda: Yes Judy?
Mom: Tell Sharita you gave me these prices.
Sharonda: (Looking at prices) I didn't give you those prices.
Mom: YES YOU DID!!
Sharonda: No, I didn't. I would never have agreed to such low prices.
Mom: You AND Sharita BOTH talked to me on TWO separate occasions and gave me the SAME PRICES.
(At this point, it was only by the grace of God himself that my mother did not crawl over that counter. These women were accusing her of either 1. Lying 2. Being crazy or 3. Both)
Sharonda: I don't own this store anymore. I'm going home.
Sharita: Oooo bye girl! Have a good day!!! *turns to my mom, coldly* I can't give you these prices.
Mom: For the love of...
Me: OKAY STOP! Everyone stop. Sharita. Work with me. What CAN you give me for these prices?
She then flipped open her catalogue like it was the hardest thing anyone has ever asked any human being on this planet to do. Ever. She shows me one janky flower and says, "That. With some greens."
Me: (calmly) Okay...well, now, I need more than that. How much will it be to do exactly what I want?
Sharita: $25.00 more.
Mom: Oh for the love, we've been arguing over $25?! You're being difficult over $25?! I'll pay it FOR her. Make the arrangements. Now. The boutinierres...
Sharita: I can't do those for this price.
Me: (through gritted teeth) Let's just stop while we're ahead. I want the pricing for the most basic thing you can do. This is my budget. It has already been busted slightly. Just you tell me what you can do at this point, write it down, sign it, and date it.
Sharita: (rolls eyes) Well, I can do.....(and she lists all the things) for.....$100 over your budget.
Me: Fine. Write it down. Date it. And give me a hard copy of it. Signed.
So she does, and then the very final thing was my bouquet. I am not carrying in a traditional bouquet. My mom was given a white leather Bible the day she got married almost 50 years ago. I am carrying that Bible in place of a bouquet, and tied to it will be one single orchid tied on with lace and purple ribbon.
Mom: Sharita. We need a purple flower for the Bible.
Sharita: I can't do purple. It ain't in season.
Mom: I NEED THE...
Me: SHARITA. What CAN you do?
Sharita: A white orchid. For $25.00 more.
Me: (Grinding my teeth) Fine.
Mom hands her the Bible and tells her to keep it so it can be arranged properly. I look straight at Sharita and say, "Do NOT lose that Bible. It's been in our family for 50 years." Well, that did it. She was pissed that I said that apparently. She took the Bible and the ribbon (which WE had to provide) and put it in a brown bag and stapled our receipt to the bag and put it under the table, all without losing eye contact with me.
Sharita: Anything else ladies?
Mom: No.
Me: No.
Sharita: Bye.
As we left the store, both of my sisters were already out on the curb. Leslie was fairly certain if she had stayed she would have been arrested for punching Sharita in the face. I am happy that it is all sorted out, but I'm also slightly scared that I'm going to have nothing for flowers other than baby's breath and one tall weed.
Shit happens.
After the florist I had my hair appointment, which went awesome. Then we headed back to mom's house to have our make-up done. The make-up lady arrived and I offered to go first while everyone else had dinner. She was about half-way through putting my make-up on when somehow we randomly ended up having my sisters try on their bridesmaids dresses so we could fit the belts on them.
I'm sitting at the table watching my sisters, and my eye starts to itch. Not thinking much about it, I reached up and rubbed it a little. Well, it kept itching, so I grabbed a damp paper towel to lay on it to cool it down. I had sneezed a few times that day, so I was just annoyed thinking my allergies were probably flaring up.
I keep watching my sisters, and my eye starts to twitch a little. Leslie stops and looks at me and asks if I'm okay, to which I say yes I'm fine, just had a small allergy moment.
Well, my make-up lady comes back over and by this point my eyes are pouring out water by the bucket load and starting to burn a smidge. She turned my face towards the light to finish my make-up and is all, "Um...did you have a blister on your eye earlier? I just don't remember seeing that. Hmm..." to which I grab a mirror. I look at my eye and it is swollen and red and watering, and a blister is forming under it. I'm all, "Um no...sure didn't. Was all blister free 10 minutes ago..." And literally as I'm looking in the mirror, it begins turning red and purple and went from a slight bump to going all the way across under my eye. My make-up lady goes "GET IT OFF!!" and a flurry began. She began putting makeup remover all over my face, while my mother literally LEAPS like a gazelle and runs through the house, magically re-appearing in record time with eye-makeup remover and cotton balls.
The more they took off my make-up, the larger the blisters grew and the redder I got. So my mom starts digging through a drawer where she finds some Benadryl from like 1985 that she wasn't even sure where she got it. It wasn't even in a bottle. Just some pills. Chillin'.
So I eat the pills straight up, and dart to the bathroom and starting sticking my head in the sink and rinsing my eyes out with water. My entire face is blood red by this point, both eyes watering, and my right eye was swollen shut and had blisters underneath it. My make-up lady is pacing the house, probably deciding if she should call her lawyer or an ambulance. I emerge from the bathroom and sat in a chair and covered my face with an ice cold washcloth.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the swelling began to lower and my vision began to return. The blister stayed large, but didn't seem as angry. Very quietly from the corner my make-up lady goes, "Perhaps we should reschedule?".
After about an hour it was decided by all that I was fine, and my mom put Neosporin on my eye because she read it on The Google that it was safe (TBD.....), and my make-lady scooped me up in a huge bear-hug and patted my back like she was trying to save me from choking on a tire. She was so happy I was alive. I was exhausted, and had no interest in trying to save the day, so I opted to go home instead.
I walked in the house that night, and poor Andrew who was expecting to see his beautiful bride all dolled and beautiful was greeted by my red swollen face greased up with Neosporin, my hair running wild in every direction, and in a sleepy Benadryl induced haze. He scooped me up and told me how beautiful I am and that he'd be just fine marrying me looking just like that. I just started to ugly cry, which made me even prettier, and finally just went to bed.
Shit happens.
This weekend I had scheduled another big day of wedding to-do's, this time with my mom and sisters in tow. I had appointment schedule to meet with the florist, my hair stylist, and my make-up artist. I seriously began the day with SO much excitement, and just knew by the end of the day I was going to look beautiful and finally be able to visualize what I would look like for my big day. I even teased Andrew all morning that I was going to take down my hair and take off the make-up before I got home so that he wouldn't see how I was going to look for our wedding. I felt very confident and excited!!!
The morning began at the florist. Let me paint you a picture.
About 3 months ago my mom called our would-be florist and spoke with her on the phone about every last detail of flowers needed for our wedding. She gave us wonderful prices, was so warm and excited and all was well.
About 2 months ago, our florist up and peaced out and sold the business to a friend of hers. So my mom immediately called the new lady, whom I'm going to be polite and change her name to Sharita to protect her identity. Sharita spoke with my mom, and assured her everything would be fine with her being the new owner, and my mom went through our list again and all was well.
Saturday. My sisters, mom and myself arrive at Sharita's Shop. We politely go up to the counter and tell her why we were there. We had called ahead and made an appointment, but she was clearly very annoyed that we were suddenly all there. Mom pulled out her handy dandy notebook where she had written all the things. Every flower. Every price. Every conversation. And she starts by going over the large arrangements for the altar, which Sharita had promised us would be a certain price. The rest went vaguely like this:
Sharita: Um. Where did you get those prices?
Mom: From you.
Sharita: No you didn't. I can't do anything for those prices.
Mom: But...you gave these prices to me. Twice. I wrote them down.
Sharita: No I didn't.
Mom: Yes you did. So did Sharonda.
(At this point, Shardona, whose name has also been changed to protect her identity, just happened to be in the back of the store that she no longer owns.)
Mom: ShaRONDA! Get over here!
Enter: Sharonda
Sharonda: Yes Judy?
Mom: Tell Sharita you gave me these prices.
Sharonda: (Looking at prices) I didn't give you those prices.
Mom: YES YOU DID!!
Sharonda: No, I didn't. I would never have agreed to such low prices.
Mom: You AND Sharita BOTH talked to me on TWO separate occasions and gave me the SAME PRICES.
(At this point, it was only by the grace of God himself that my mother did not crawl over that counter. These women were accusing her of either 1. Lying 2. Being crazy or 3. Both)
Sharonda: I don't own this store anymore. I'm going home.
Sharita: Oooo bye girl! Have a good day!!! *turns to my mom, coldly* I can't give you these prices.
Mom: For the love of...
Me: OKAY STOP! Everyone stop. Sharita. Work with me. What CAN you give me for these prices?
She then flipped open her catalogue like it was the hardest thing anyone has ever asked any human being on this planet to do. Ever. She shows me one janky flower and says, "That. With some greens."
Me: (calmly) Okay...well, now, I need more than that. How much will it be to do exactly what I want?
Sharita: $25.00 more.
Mom: Oh for the love, we've been arguing over $25?! You're being difficult over $25?! I'll pay it FOR her. Make the arrangements. Now. The boutinierres...
Sharita: I can't do those for this price.
Me: (through gritted teeth) Let's just stop while we're ahead. I want the pricing for the most basic thing you can do. This is my budget. It has already been busted slightly. Just you tell me what you can do at this point, write it down, sign it, and date it.
Sharita: (rolls eyes) Well, I can do.....(and she lists all the things) for.....$100 over your budget.
Me: Fine. Write it down. Date it. And give me a hard copy of it. Signed.
So she does, and then the very final thing was my bouquet. I am not carrying in a traditional bouquet. My mom was given a white leather Bible the day she got married almost 50 years ago. I am carrying that Bible in place of a bouquet, and tied to it will be one single orchid tied on with lace and purple ribbon.
Mom: Sharita. We need a purple flower for the Bible.
Sharita: I can't do purple. It ain't in season.
Mom: I NEED THE...
Me: SHARITA. What CAN you do?
Sharita: A white orchid. For $25.00 more.
Me: (Grinding my teeth) Fine.
Mom hands her the Bible and tells her to keep it so it can be arranged properly. I look straight at Sharita and say, "Do NOT lose that Bible. It's been in our family for 50 years." Well, that did it. She was pissed that I said that apparently. She took the Bible and the ribbon (which WE had to provide) and put it in a brown bag and stapled our receipt to the bag and put it under the table, all without losing eye contact with me.
Sharita: Anything else ladies?
Mom: No.
Me: No.
Sharita: Bye.
As we left the store, both of my sisters were already out on the curb. Leslie was fairly certain if she had stayed she would have been arrested for punching Sharita in the face. I am happy that it is all sorted out, but I'm also slightly scared that I'm going to have nothing for flowers other than baby's breath and one tall weed.
Shit happens.
After the florist I had my hair appointment, which went awesome. Then we headed back to mom's house to have our make-up done. The make-up lady arrived and I offered to go first while everyone else had dinner. She was about half-way through putting my make-up on when somehow we randomly ended up having my sisters try on their bridesmaids dresses so we could fit the belts on them.
I'm sitting at the table watching my sisters, and my eye starts to itch. Not thinking much about it, I reached up and rubbed it a little. Well, it kept itching, so I grabbed a damp paper towel to lay on it to cool it down. I had sneezed a few times that day, so I was just annoyed thinking my allergies were probably flaring up.
I keep watching my sisters, and my eye starts to twitch a little. Leslie stops and looks at me and asks if I'm okay, to which I say yes I'm fine, just had a small allergy moment.
Well, my make-up lady comes back over and by this point my eyes are pouring out water by the bucket load and starting to burn a smidge. She turned my face towards the light to finish my make-up and is all, "Um...did you have a blister on your eye earlier? I just don't remember seeing that. Hmm..." to which I grab a mirror. I look at my eye and it is swollen and red and watering, and a blister is forming under it. I'm all, "Um no...sure didn't. Was all blister free 10 minutes ago..." And literally as I'm looking in the mirror, it begins turning red and purple and went from a slight bump to going all the way across under my eye. My make-up lady goes "GET IT OFF!!" and a flurry began. She began putting makeup remover all over my face, while my mother literally LEAPS like a gazelle and runs through the house, magically re-appearing in record time with eye-makeup remover and cotton balls.
The more they took off my make-up, the larger the blisters grew and the redder I got. So my mom starts digging through a drawer where she finds some Benadryl from like 1985 that she wasn't even sure where she got it. It wasn't even in a bottle. Just some pills. Chillin'.
So I eat the pills straight up, and dart to the bathroom and starting sticking my head in the sink and rinsing my eyes out with water. My entire face is blood red by this point, both eyes watering, and my right eye was swollen shut and had blisters underneath it. My make-up lady is pacing the house, probably deciding if she should call her lawyer or an ambulance. I emerge from the bathroom and sat in a chair and covered my face with an ice cold washcloth.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the swelling began to lower and my vision began to return. The blister stayed large, but didn't seem as angry. Very quietly from the corner my make-up lady goes, "Perhaps we should reschedule?".
After about an hour it was decided by all that I was fine, and my mom put Neosporin on my eye because she read it on The Google that it was safe (TBD.....), and my make-lady scooped me up in a huge bear-hug and patted my back like she was trying to save me from choking on a tire. She was so happy I was alive. I was exhausted, and had no interest in trying to save the day, so I opted to go home instead.
I walked in the house that night, and poor Andrew who was expecting to see his beautiful bride all dolled and beautiful was greeted by my red swollen face greased up with Neosporin, my hair running wild in every direction, and in a sleepy Benadryl induced haze. He scooped me up and told me how beautiful I am and that he'd be just fine marrying me looking just like that. I just started to ugly cry, which made me even prettier, and finally just went to bed.
Shit happens.
Finally, in my last bit of news, this weekend also marked me finally after many long months, deciding on the final music selections for the wedding. I filled out the contract for the string quartet that we hired. (They are kind of amazing. Visit their website: http://www.volarequartet.com/ )
I had Andrew pick up a money order to send them, and I filled everything out, so happy to finally have it all taken care of. Fast forward to Monday. The head of the quartet emails me to apologize for the delay in responding to my email, blaming his delayed responses on the fact that he spent the entire weekend moving into his new apartment. In Lexington.
Well, that is SO great!! You have a new place. Woohoo! One teeeeeeny, teeeeeeny problem. I mailed the contract and the money on Friday. To Cleveland.
He responded immediately with an "Oh! Crap!" (Yes, that was the actual first line of the email) and proceeds to tell me how sorry he was that he must have forgotten to tell me about the move. Yep. Sure did. And then proceeds to tell me how he *tried* to set up a forwarding address on his mail but didn't have much luck. But that he's sure all will be fine and he'll "keep an eye out" for the contract and payment.
So somewhere between here and Cleveland my music contract and a money order are floating around having the time of their life. And I'm just supposed to "wait it out" and see if it arrives in the next week or so.
Shit happens.
So there you have it my fellow princesses. Be wary of plans, for plans go wrong. I started out pretty stressed and ugly crying and falling apart as each of these things unfolded over the past 48 hours or so. But finally, after much thought and consideration, I've reached this conclusion:
This day is about Andrew, myself, God, love, family, and all things that surround us. It will be beautiful, and none of these little trials will affect us in the end. We will have hilarious stories to tell and memories to share with our kids. One day when my daughter gets married, I will be able to have patience and understanding and hopefully guide her along the process. So I can give her a hug, gaze longingly at the beautiful woman she has become, and quietly say, "Sweet baby girl...shit happens."
Friday, August 15, 2014
Wild Wedding Weekend, Pt. 3 of 3
Well y'all, it has taken me a full week (or two....) to find the time to finish up my post about our wedding weekend. I figure I should probably update now because this coming weekend is yet another busy wedding weekend. In fact, I need to stop calling them wedding "weekends" because in reality I spend about 97.99% of my time thinking about, working on, and engrossed in this wedding business!
Anyway, to finish up my three-parter, I'd like to dedicate this post to Momma Jane. One of my long-time besties is the wonderful Matt Leonard. Matty and I met during our stint in Sweeney Todd at Weathervane Playhouse about 247 years ago. It was an insta-friendship, and we've been friends ever since. He was my roomie for a short time, and he was my co-guinea pig when I got the wild hair and decided to uproot my life and move to NYC. For the record, when I got the reverse wild-hair and moved back to Kentucky the next year, he actually ended up staying there and lived happily ever after.
Fast forward to now. Back when I got engaged, Matt mentioned to me that his mom, whom I affectionately call Momma Jane, was retiring this spring and would be happy to spend her newly found free time helping me out with wedding shenanigans. Now I immediately said, "YES!" because she is VERY talented. She sews, makes jewelry, and in general is a talented artsy/crafty/smartsy woman with an eye. Plus I love her, and she is the dog whisperer, all of which are requirements when I entrust people with things. It took me about 8 months to actually gather all the things she needed to begin decorating. (Remember my mother and I's wild trip to Michael's? Yes, that's right. I just referred to a trip to Michael's Craft Store as "wild". Boom. Yo.)
So finally my parents and Andrew and myself took off to Ohio. We love taking trips with my parents. It's like a little double date. They remind us SOOOOO very much of us. So the roadtrip up there was full of laughter, with many things I wish I could regale you all with but alas, I try to keep these posts to no more then 24 pages each.
We arrived at Momma Jane's, and she greeted me with hugs and warmth. I greeted her with a trunk full of purple explosion. It all equaled out. After I spent a good 30 minutes refusing to do anything but play with her ridiculously cute Chorkie puppy named Abby (seriously almost stole this dog), we finally got down to business. I pulled out all the purple in the world, and we got on Pinterest and we oo'd and ah'd and gasped and geeked out. I broke out in a sweat y'all. This was for serious.
She took everything in quite calmly, and no matter what I threw at her she very sweetly just said, "Okay. That's easy." Now. I'm not sure if all the things are really that easy, or if she just loves me so much she knows better than to tell a Bride 12 weeks out from her wedding that something can't be done. I mean, I knew it was a bit far-fetched to request the feathers to actually be from real angels, but she seemed fine with it...
Then we get to talking about lighting and how I so badly want lanterns for the tables but that they have been rather expensive everywhere. And she's all, "You want lanterns? Oh, I have lanterns." I'm sorry .WHAT?! And she goes and gets one, and it is gorgeous and perfect, and she has over a dozen of them, and then angels sang. Done.
Anyway, as we wrapped up our decorations business, we start talking about the dress. I'm in the middle of saying something about it having a lace trim, and suddenly we all become aware that Andrew is sitting on the edge of his seat listening to every detail trying to "draw" a dress in his head. I refuse to let him know anything about my wedding dress, and as a result he has been like a kid leading up to Christmas. So I stopped talking immediately and we all ushered him outside to pout with my dad and the dog.
Jane began asking me about alterations and I confessed how nervous I was because I hadn't set anything up yet and I was using someone who was recommended by a friend of a friend. And, again, very calmly, in the same tone as "That's easy." she says, "Oh. Well then let me do that for you, too." I'm sorry, what? Jane, you DID hear me request feathers from Angel's earlier, right? A momma is gonna be busy, mmmk? And I'm all, "Wait. You do wedding dress alteration?!" and she calmly says, "Of course. I have one hanging in the back room right now that I'm doing. Matt didn't tell you?" Um...NO! So just like that, like Sonny and Cher, like Donnie and Marie, and peanut butter and jelly, like mac n cheese - it became Jane and Dress. I wanted to squeeze her and hug her and call her my George, but I refrained. But I did squeal. And maybe clapped. A lot.
So I think I am going to consider changing her official name from Momma Jane to Saint Jane. It seems fitting. She's got my centerpieces, my church decorations, my lanterns, my WEDDING DRESS people!! I love her. Thank you Matty for bringing your momma into my life.
OHHH, and before I go just in case anyone cares...we fought Willie Dick. And we won. The invitations are in my possession people. They are being mailed out in 2 weeks. Whoa.
Anyway, to finish up my three-parter, I'd like to dedicate this post to Momma Jane. One of my long-time besties is the wonderful Matt Leonard. Matty and I met during our stint in Sweeney Todd at Weathervane Playhouse about 247 years ago. It was an insta-friendship, and we've been friends ever since. He was my roomie for a short time, and he was my co-guinea pig when I got the wild hair and decided to uproot my life and move to NYC. For the record, when I got the reverse wild-hair and moved back to Kentucky the next year, he actually ended up staying there and lived happily ever after.
Fast forward to now. Back when I got engaged, Matt mentioned to me that his mom, whom I affectionately call Momma Jane, was retiring this spring and would be happy to spend her newly found free time helping me out with wedding shenanigans. Now I immediately said, "YES!" because she is VERY talented. She sews, makes jewelry, and in general is a talented artsy/crafty/smartsy woman with an eye. Plus I love her, and she is the dog whisperer, all of which are requirements when I entrust people with things. It took me about 8 months to actually gather all the things she needed to begin decorating. (Remember my mother and I's wild trip to Michael's? Yes, that's right. I just referred to a trip to Michael's Craft Store as "wild". Boom. Yo.)
So finally my parents and Andrew and myself took off to Ohio. We love taking trips with my parents. It's like a little double date. They remind us SOOOOO very much of us. So the roadtrip up there was full of laughter, with many things I wish I could regale you all with but alas, I try to keep these posts to no more then 24 pages each.
We arrived at Momma Jane's, and she greeted me with hugs and warmth. I greeted her with a trunk full of purple explosion. It all equaled out. After I spent a good 30 minutes refusing to do anything but play with her ridiculously cute Chorkie puppy named Abby (seriously almost stole this dog), we finally got down to business. I pulled out all the purple in the world, and we got on Pinterest and we oo'd and ah'd and gasped and geeked out. I broke out in a sweat y'all. This was for serious.
She took everything in quite calmly, and no matter what I threw at her she very sweetly just said, "Okay. That's easy." Now. I'm not sure if all the things are really that easy, or if she just loves me so much she knows better than to tell a Bride 12 weeks out from her wedding that something can't be done. I mean, I knew it was a bit far-fetched to request the feathers to actually be from real angels, but she seemed fine with it...
Then we get to talking about lighting and how I so badly want lanterns for the tables but that they have been rather expensive everywhere. And she's all, "You want lanterns? Oh, I have lanterns." I'm sorry .WHAT?! And she goes and gets one, and it is gorgeous and perfect, and she has over a dozen of them, and then angels sang. Done.
Anyway, as we wrapped up our decorations business, we start talking about the dress. I'm in the middle of saying something about it having a lace trim, and suddenly we all become aware that Andrew is sitting on the edge of his seat listening to every detail trying to "draw" a dress in his head. I refuse to let him know anything about my wedding dress, and as a result he has been like a kid leading up to Christmas. So I stopped talking immediately and we all ushered him outside to pout with my dad and the dog.
Jane began asking me about alterations and I confessed how nervous I was because I hadn't set anything up yet and I was using someone who was recommended by a friend of a friend. And, again, very calmly, in the same tone as "That's easy." she says, "Oh. Well then let me do that for you, too." I'm sorry, what? Jane, you DID hear me request feathers from Angel's earlier, right? A momma is gonna be busy, mmmk? And I'm all, "Wait. You do wedding dress alteration?!" and she calmly says, "Of course. I have one hanging in the back room right now that I'm doing. Matt didn't tell you?" Um...NO! So just like that, like Sonny and Cher, like Donnie and Marie, and peanut butter and jelly, like mac n cheese - it became Jane and Dress. I wanted to squeeze her and hug her and call her my George, but I refrained. But I did squeal. And maybe clapped. A lot.
So I think I am going to consider changing her official name from Momma Jane to Saint Jane. It seems fitting. She's got my centerpieces, my church decorations, my lanterns, my WEDDING DRESS people!! I love her. Thank you Matty for bringing your momma into my life.
OHHH, and before I go just in case anyone cares...we fought Willie Dick. And we won. The invitations are in my possession people. They are being mailed out in 2 weeks. Whoa.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Wild Wedding Weekend, Pt. 2 of 3
Okay. So we left off with the saga of us trying to get our invitations
ordered (in case you were wondering, good ol’ Willie still hasn’t confirmed or
denied his receipt of our response and we still may or may not have
invitations, so I am still considering my door to door option…)
Anyway, let’s move on to the remainder of Saturday. We began
by going to Bryant’s Rent-All here in Lexington to get some prices on a few
rental options for the reception. We needed to price buffet serving pans,
silverware, napkins, chair covers, lighting, cake stand, and a few other random
things. We were actually pleasantly surprised by the prices and found that most
things were actually either cheaper to rent, or at least comparable pricing to
buying. And we don’t want to buy a lot of these types of things because
obviously we will not ever need them again. A very sweet woman (Peggy? Sue??
Jane????) helped us and gave us a great price quote sheet to take home and
digest. I think we have made some decisions and will be making our rental
reservations soon!!!
After this stop came the big mac daddy task of registering.
Shew! Now, I love to shop. But this was a long, exhausting day! And I have to
give major props to my Andrew. He really stuck with me all day and didn’t
complain at all.
So we began at Macy’s. This was our first big stop on the
registry. We found a stray associate in the shoe department and she was kind
enough to direct us to the proper location for registry. I honestly didn’t have
a clue how it all worked. I thought the stray shoe associate would just give us
a scan gun and send us along our merry way. I didn’t realize how formal it all
was!
The lady who got us started was very, very kind. Her name
was Susan, and she was very sweet and excited for us. At least she pretended to
be excited for us because it’s her job, so that was nice. We had to wait a
while before she could work with us because apparently an associate had called
off that day for the next three months due to an injury. So Susan didn’t really
have time. But she got us all set up online and gave us our scan gun and a
quick tour of the store, and then she set us free.
Oh. My. Word. First of all, our Macy’s is huge. Not NYC
huge, but large enough that a bitch was tired, mmmK? We walked and walked and
walked. We were lost in a sea of china and flatware and bedding and sheets, oh
my. It was all so overwhelming! I felt like I had been given allll this power
with my little scan gun, yet I didn’t know how to use the power. I didn’t know
where to begin. We spent at least 20 minutes deciding on pillows, and then we
quickly learned that if we spent 20 minutes on every item, we would never. Leave.
The. Store. Ever. Andrew was pretty much ready to go after the pillows, so I
gave him some quick encouragement. We walked through bedding and bath, and I
was feeling as overwhelmed as he looked, so I cheerfully told him we didn’t
have to pick these things here, we could pick them at Bed, Bath, & Beyond
which is our other registry location. Even though it required more time and
shopping, he seemed delighted that we could just check it off the list here and
move on to the next thing.
We then roamed our way into the Kitchen area. Damn. Did y’all
know there are approximately 2,589 different types of gadgets to use in your
kitchen?! I mean, there are things that slice, dice, cook your meal, and raise
your children. It was insane!! I let Andrew do a large portion of the picking
things out here since he’s a big cook and kitchen guy, but even he began to go
cross-eyed. I lost him somewhere around the time I began to pick out our
glasses. I held one up to get his opinion and he had poofed away. We were both
feeling it by this point. It had been almost 2 hours in the store. At one
point, he held up a nice big Wok and asked for it, and he swears I shook my
head and said “NO!” and walked away. I don’t have a memory of this. I was so
overwhelmed and trying to look at everything that I probably was just saying to
myself, “NO. Make it stop!!” When he pointed my reaction out, I felt awful, and
ran over and scanned his Wok. He was happy. Then he took off to go sit in the
furniture department and rest on a couch whilst I looked at the remaining gadgets.
We re-connected and I assured him the last thing I needed to
do was dishes. We REALLY want a nice set of everyday-use dishes. We don’t feel
the need to register for fine China. We just aren’t really formal people and I
don’t feel the need to have a nice set of Chinaware that will likely set in a
cabinet for years at a time between uses. So instead, I wanted to make sure our
everyday use items were my favorite pick.
Andrew trucked back to the couches and had a seat in a stray
display area. I pretty much knew what I wanted, and I went straight to them.
But to my dismay, they didn’t come in the nice big 45-piece set. And I wanted
that, for an 8-piece table setting, despite my mother’s wishes for me to
register plate by plate. So I had to hunt down Susan, who actually found the
set for me online and settled the matter.
Finally, after what seemed like 12 days, we wrapped up our
registry and got our online account set-up, and were able to crawl out of the
store. Andrew need sustenance or he may or may not have actually made it to the
second store. We grabbed food and drink, and headed to Bed, Bath, & Beyond.
Totally. Different. Experience.
We were greeted by a manager, who escorted us back to the
Wedding Registry Desk. Here, ladies and gentleman, we met Tyler. Ohhhh Tyler.
Ohhhh how I adored Tyler. He was a seemingly innocent, somewhat younger little
man who I believe may or may not have been a pocket gay. Immediately after we
finished gushing over my new peach Jessica Simpson bag, he offered to lock it
up for me, and then offered us some nice ice cold water to sip on whilst we
shopped.
We found ourselves in bedding first, and Tyler was holding a
copy of our Macy’s registry in one hand, and a scan gun in the other. I thought
that was where we would part, as we had with Susan, and the crazy would begin
again soon. But no, no, no, no, no. Tyler kept that gun. And he began to be our
personal shopper. It was awesome! He flitted about giving us his honest opinion
on every item we were considering. He owned about half of what I wanted and
offered his advice. We spent a good amount of time in bedding picking out the
perfect comforter, sheets, curtains, and more. He broke upon the bags so I
could feel things. He blatantly showed his disgust when I glanced at something
ugly. He pranced about happily when I chose the Wamsutta sheet sets. He very
quickly deducted two things:
- I love purple. And the more purple he showed me, the better.
- Andrew mostly wanted to pick what I liked best. So he basically just started showing me pretty things and waited for the approving glance from Andrew and scanned away.
We skipped and prancercised our way through bath and
bedding, we gallantly strutted through the kitchen section, and we stayed happy
all the while. Andrew would periodically disappear to go look at grilling
things and manly items, and Tyler would squeal with glee and direct me to
purple things that I didn’t need. (I’m proud to say I mostly looked, and he
only scan gunned a few items!) And let me tell you, this little guy knew his
stuff! He could talk his way around every item we picked up. He threw the
un-breakable china on the floor to show how it wouldn’t break. He slammed the Tupperware
canisters to show how they were shatter-proof. He guided us gently away from
more expensive items and showed us the equally effective off-brand version of
certain things. And once, while Andrew was lost in the grill section, he
delightfully guided me over to a GORGEOUS pasta serving set that was PURPLE AND
PARIS!! I registered for that immediately, obv, and Andrew arrived as Tyler was
entering the last scan.
I was having some trouble struggling with the pricing of
items. We really want to offer a wide price range to those guests who wish to
buy us a gift. We kept almost everything on the lower price end, but some
things we just simply had no choice – i.e. dishes, glasses, silverware,
bedding, etc. The big things. And I was struggling with scanning in these big
ticket items. But Tyler gave me a reassuring pep talk and reminded me this is
our wedding, our big day, and we should register for everything we truly need
and want. Guests may choose to buy something, or they may not, but all I can do
on my end is truly put out there what we need. So I did! Eeep!
As we finished up our registry with Tyler, he cheerfully
brought back my Jessica Simpson bag (after he offered to “keep” it for me) and
we finished up our online account set-up. He advised us to go home that night
and not think about anything wedding related and just let it all go. Then, to
re-visit the registry sites and remove and/or add anything we need to before we
release the registry to all of our guests. So that is just what we did! Andrew
was really happy by the time we finished this round of registering; even he
loved Tyler’s positive attitude, and the fact that he kept us going quickly
through the store. We didn’t feel over-whelmed, but instead left feeling happy
and excited! We left the registry as-is, and this weekend I will re-visit it
and do the final tweaking on it.
I am excited though. What an exciting thing – registering for
our Wedding Gifts. Our WEDDING y’all!! Some days I still can’t wrap my head
around all this, and then we’ll do something or see something or say something
and it all becomes real again. We had a great time, made a good memory
together, and hey – I got to shop all day! That’s never a bad thing.
Stay tuned tomorrow for the final part to our wedding
weekend. This one includes a roadtrip to Ohio and the conclusion to the Willie
Dick saga. Dunh dunh….DUNH!
Monday, August 4, 2014
Wild Wedding Weekend, Pt.1 of 3
So this past weekend had SO much wedding crammed into it
that I have decided this post is going to have to be a three-parter. Yes, THREE
parts. A to be continued. A wait until next time. Dunh Dunh DUNH!!
…………..
Okay, so it isn’t exactly a nail-biter. But I did do a
LOT of wedding things this weekend. So I present to you, my Wild Wedding
Weekend: Part 1.
Leading up to this Saturday I made Andrew promise me he
would devote the entire day to less than pleasant wedding activities. I had to
basically have him hand in his man-card for a couple of days, to be returned
upon completion of all wedding related festivities this weekend, with a
non-refundable deposit of “Yes, dear, whatever you say dear.” He even turned
down a golf outing for me, so I have to give a huge, super shout-out to my fiancé
and his awesomeness.
Saturday morning began with us waking up to an email from
our invitation designer. His name is Willie. Willie Dick. Like James Bond.
Except not at all. A couple weeks ago I sent him the basic information needed for our
wedding invitations. Andrew’s brother offered to take care of our invitations
as his gift to us, which we were SUPER excited about. Invitations are
expensive, yo. So may I pre-empt this by saying I am VERY grateful, and am NOT
complaining. Now. With that said…sometimes, when you get things for free, the
person doing the giving, sometimes, just sometimes, doesn’t really worry about
um….anything. And timelines are pretty much…non-existent. So I sent
good ol’ Willie a nice big long email giving him allll the things. All of our
final invitation information, and a big long list of questions. Do you include
envelopes Willie? What size will these be Willie?! Hey Willie, how long before
we receive them? When can we see proofs Willie? I need to mail them soon
Willie. Willie…oh Willlllliiiieeeee? I even included a “mock-up” of an
invitation I made to give him an idea of what type of look I was going for.
Now, I am not a Bridezilla by any means, so my email was
sweet and cheerful, despite its lengthy content. So I hit send, and waited
cheerfully and dreamed of our perfect invites. A few days pass. I am slightly
antsy, but not awful. A few more days passed and I became only slightly
worried. A week and a half passes, and I find myself carving the name Willie
Dick into my desk at work….SO, I decided to send a follow-up email and gently
nudge him along. Willie? Hey Willie, how’s it going Willie man?! Did you get my
email with all those questions? Here. Ima re-write them allll out for you in
this email. Willie, we need to order these invitations. Yesterday. Thanks,
Willie.
A few days pass. My nose-holes are only flared slightly,
and I managed to maintain my smile. A few days more pass. I send a very, very
sweet lil’ email to Willie. Willie…are you alive Willie? Stay with me Willie. I
need you Willie. A few days more pass. Then we arrive at Saturday morning, the
kick-off to Wedding Weekend. Andrew and I are still lazing around in bed making
our plans for the day, and I have my phone out and I see an email. From
Willie!!!!!! Oh Willie, thank you, you DO care, you DO really like me Willie!!!
I squealed with glee and opened the email with anticipation, nudging Andrew and
going “This is it! Willie responded! This is our invitations proofs!! GET UP
MAN!!!” We re-positioned ourselves and I eagerly clicked on the email from
Willie and it began to appear, line by….oh, just one line. Okay. Short-hand
perhaps? I read it in its entirety in 12.2 seconds. “Hi Micha. Got your email.
Your invites look pretty good. Want me to print ‘em? Thanks. Willie.”
……………..
……………………………….
……………………………………………
The first to break the silence was surprisingly Andrew
who yells, “Can he READ?!!” and we both fell into fits of laughter. Because
honestly, the only other choice was tears. So we laughed. We laughed so hard we
cried. Willie. Silly Willie. Silly Willie Dick.
NO! I do NOT want you to just print the Microsoft
Publisher document I created in 3 minutes. I need to know what size, Willie. I
need to tell you how many, Willie. Willie, I NEED ENVELOPES. DO YOU SELL
ENVELOPES? DO YOU MAKE ALL THE THINGS WILLIE?!
I started envisioning my wedding invitations being made
in Willie’s backyard, where I can only assume he has been secretly hoarding
cereal boxes for the better part of the past year, carefully collecting them,
so that when the time came, he could cut the backs off and print my Microsoft
office invitations on the back of them.
I started envisioning myself not having invitations at
all, but rather instead walking door to door, a la Jehovah’s witnesses, and
ringing people’s doorbells and asking them to attend my wedding please. And
perhaps the stray friend would give me a cookie or a hug to sustain myself.
I started envisioning Willie Dick not being an actual
real person at all, but instead some type of computer automated program that
responds to worried bride’s emails with just the wrong things, created by
someone (a man) who finds humor in such situations.
And I started to reply to his email. But then I thought
better of it. No good would come from it, and I’m fairly certain even if I
wrote out my questions again and found a way to attach a loud speaker to the
email so that it may be read aloud as would a Sermon on a Sunday morning from a
pulpit made of gold. No. Willie isn’t going to respond. Willie Dick is not
interested.
So after fits of giggling, followed by worst-case
scenarios, Andrew and I both agreed. We are getting these made for free.
Patience must be something we focus on. So I am going to re-visit my invitation
design and actually make it look as good as I possibly can, and then I’m going
to re-send it to Willie and just simply say: Print ‘em, Willie. You print
Willie Dick like you’ve never printed before.
And I will figure the rest out later.
The Gehring Wedding saga continues…tomorrow! In the
meantime, don’t be startled if I ring your doorbell later this week.
And Willie….I’m watching you.
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