So yeah - the getaway was awesome!

Still breathing

and the zombies haven't gotten me yet - though they do seem to be doing a number on whatever health care reforms are being proposed these days.

Anyway - I'm still funked out but I'm well past any tearful, poignant revelations about the universe.

A good friend is leaving for Korea today, she'll be spending a whole year there. It makes me miss Iceland. I miss international travel. I miss the confidence and the disorientation, and the food and the strain, and the whole "fish out of water" feeling. That's a damned good kind of stress, by the gods.

You're probably as tired as I am of hearing about exactly why I'm so stressed and poopy these days, so we'll fast forward through that part.

The year of a thousand weddings is moving along nicely, with now two un-blogged events to tell you about.

One of them, a true highlight of my summer, was for my very own father in law. He's a tango instructor and that's how he met his bride. She's a nurse and she's not only super organized and smart and friendly and stylish and beautiful, but she's a pretty swell dancer in her own right. Their first dance as married people, actually, was a tango. It was heart-breaking! It was beautiful and artful and just everything a first dance should be for these two people. Nothing like that "so you think you can dance" crap, nothing so hyperventilated and oversexed. This was tango like it's supposed to be, a conversation between two people who are in love. Damn.

Her dress was a spectacular olive green and the flowers were in simmering oranges and pinks. The cake was almond/tangerine I think and STILL stands out as among the classiest wedding cakes I've ever eaten.

The groom was, again, bursting with pride. The whole family was bursting with pride. There were sisters and cousins everywhere. In the reception I was overwhelmed by the realization of how much my own beloved's family had just grown. It was exponential! It was also thrilling to be surrounded by that much family - exuberant family at that. THAT was a whole new experience for little me... one raised in a small family of four with a few grandparents and all others be damned. Big family reunions never really happened in my own childhood and when something even resembling a family reunion was pulled together it never really felt like family. It always felt like me in a room (or park) full of people I was obliged to be nice to. They were strangers, all of them. They had lives I didn't know and faces I didn't recognize.

This though, was family like they wrote songs about in the seventies. This was a room thick with genetic commeraderie, friendship, backstories and laughter. We were a part of it. I was a part of it. I was so, so honored to be a part of it.

My father in law got married. His little circle has bloomed from roughly three (plus me) to roughly 50 and beyond. We were all so happy, and having so much fun, most of us forgot to run outside to see the fireworks for the 4th of July!

It was a beautiful day, and it was a perfect day.

Welcome to Happily Ever After, father in law. Welcome to Happily Ever After, bride of my very own father in law. You are wonderful people. And you are beautiful people. And you will live VERY happily ever after. You've earned it!

Happy Summer

Lord it's gonna be hot today. Looks like they left the air conditionning off over the weekend here at the workplace.
MMM.
Stagnant aaair.

Oh well. Spring went thundering by swiftly enough. I'm sure it'll be autumn again before long.

But wait! There are still weddings to attend! Wedding #3 is but a handful of days away and I'm REALLY excited about it. It stands to be among the most romantic of the bunch, as it's spot on the 4th of July and we'll have a great view of the fireworks from our hotel room. It also promises to win the award of "most sweltering weather" - but we won't hold that against them.

Wedding #2 was gorgeous. The drive was awesome, because it was a strictly cold and foggy day. I was terribly underdressed, actually, in my flippy little spring dress... but as the lion's share of the event was indoors, it worked out okay. (So much for the weather holding out - damn that hubris of mine...)

The location was great. They got married at the roots of the same mountain as my own groom and me. Just another face/side of it. The thick, heavy ceiling snuggled down to us as the time for the ceremony drew near. Outside, there was no sound but for the hummingbirds and the random pit-pat of a raindrop perfectly striking an Aspen leaf.

The facility was amazing. Actually it was the groom's workplace - which sounds dreadful until you learn that it's a gorgeous, spacious, log-cabin style workplace with a huge central chamber holding magnificent arched ceilings and giant wooden beams and 360° views. The patio, where the ceremony was held, looked directly at the mountain behind it. The forest below us was greeeen green green green green. A light wind blew the bride's veil around her head with the kind of romantic swirl that most other brides would give their eye teeth for. When it was vow-time, the clouds lifted. On cue, perfect little handfulls of blue sky popped up and allowed a few golden beams of sunlight to illuminate the GORGEOUS backdrop. The mountain loomed, now completely visible, and seemed almost as choked up as we were.

After the ceremony, it was party time. We hung out and chatted and got all caught up on the local gossip and danced and ate, and ate, and ate. The bride was magnificent - looking prettier and more radiant than I had ever seen her. The groom was clearly on the brink of melting with pride. The whole event was perfectly quiet, perfectly sweet, and wonderfully cozy.

How different it was from the first wedding - no golf course lah-tee-dah this time... this was more of a home-y affair and it was a much more intimate experience. For me anyway. Maybe because I knew this bride better. Maybe because I knew what this day meant to her. Maybe because it was so deliciously foggy.

It was so perfect for the two of them. They're off in a few days to their honeymoon and they'll be taking their first steps into matriomony with among the most wonderful bonds I've ever witnessed.

And they are wonderful people. And they are beautiful people. And they will live VERY happily ever after. Welcome to happily ever after, wedding #2. You’ve earned it.

The Next Wedding!

Wedding #2 will come to pass tomorrow, and the year of a thousand weddings proceeds. The weather should hold out. It’s been rainy for the last two weeks here but only in the afternoons and mostly out east – not up in the mountains where she’ll be.

This wedding involves a very special friend of mine. She’s a girl who grew up with me, about half a block away as the crow flies… two-ish blocks in real footsteps. Anyway, when we were youngest… both our dads worked at the same place before the bottom fell out of the Molybdenum industry and our little county got flushed into the economic sewers. We had a lot of other things in common too – far beyond geography. Smokers for parents, though hers smoked more, and drinkers for parents, though mine drank more, also unified us. Most importantly though, our friendship flourished under the intense scrutiny of our peers who had for whatever stupid reason branded us as unpopular. We grew up together and relied on eachother as the other kids in school made fun of our parents, our clothes, our economic status, everything.

We were friends first, of course, before all the social pecking order crap started… and we were friends throughout. We took piano lessons at the same time. We were field-trip buddies and reading partners. We had sleep-overs, and I saw The Little Mermaid for the first time in her parents’ perfect livingroom filled with the glow of the biggest salt water fishtank I had ever seen and the sweetest, most monstrously huge dog on the planet. I loved going to her house. We giggled and conspired together... and while I (clearly) grew up weird, she was my anchor and my reality and she was always ready to kindof drag me back into the real world whenever my head got lodged for too long in the clouds.

When I went to Iowa to get my BA, she stayed in Colorado to get hers. When I stopped with one degree, she found her passion and went back for more. Now she’s a special-needs teacher and she’s the best danged thing that could ever happen to those kids. As “grownups” I’m still weird and she’s as gifted as she ever was at reaching the unreachable and the embracing the scorned. I’m kindof a big old disaster and she’s a beautiful, whole, amazing woman out there changing lives. You should meet her groom. I barely know him but I can see that he’s just about as in love with her as anyone ever was with anyone. He’s sweet and smart and honest and by the gods he just adores her right down to the ground.

This will be an amazing wedding. She’s been through a lot. Childhood for the both of us was cruel in so many ways. It didn’t really get easier. We’ve both been lost, and then found, and then lost again so many times.

Tomorrow she’s going to marry her knight in shining armor.

Wedding #1

Wow. What a wedding it was. And what an amazing summer we’ve begun!

The bride was the picture of Martha Stewart’s most well-pressed dreams and not a napkin was out of place at the reception. The groom was dashingly handsome and eloquent and just bursting with genuine genuine pride. The ceremony (a 1.5hr Catholic mass) was lovely and tasteful and heart-warmingly inclusive. The reception was professionally detailed, deliciously served, and an absolute blast.

It all started in the car on the way out there. We drove all 14 hours listening to most of “The Rabbit Factory” with rapt attention. I only fell asleep once for about 10 minutes on disc 9. Great book by the way. Kinda’ long, kinda syrupy… but very satisfying just the same.

Arrived at my mother-in-law’s house at about 11pm. The rest gets kinda fuzzy, but I remember we slept right the hell in the next day and had the most delicious breakfast with monkeybread and bratwurst patties.

The next day there was a pre-wedding brunch, attended by the groom and all of his adoring throng – essentially the same adoring throng that attended my own wedding. This throng has all grown up together, gone to chase their dreams in all corners of the world and returned home reliably for every holiday season and every possible wedding. The reunion of the throng was as joyous as every other reunion with these people ever is, which is to say: extremely. Stories, pictures, food food food, and we were back to the races. The rehearsal was efficient and my beloved husband played his part as best man very well. The rehearsal dinner was VERY interesting. It was at the same place where we’ll be celebrating another wedding next month. The food was great, the company at our table was very entertaining – we sat with the groom’s parents and his uncle. We also happened to sit at the only table NOT brimming with chest-thumping conservatives.

Immediately after the rehearsal it was off to another pre-wedding bash at the house of one of the adoring throng. Food everywhere, wine. I finally met who I assume will be the last two members of the adoring throng. They all like me and approve of my husband’s choice in brides. I like all of them and I approve of their contributions to my husband’s personality. We spent the evening liking eachother, laughing hard, and swarming around the groom with beaming pride and anticipation.

Next day, it was wedding time. I stole away with my mother in law and the mother-hen of the throng while Jason jumped with both feet into his full day of best man duties.

Mother-hen (which doesn't sound as flattering as I mean it to be... sorry) drove me to the wedding, we re-thronged together in our finery and then the ceremony began.
I felt itchy through the whole ceremony but managed to distract myself with analysis of the stained glass windows and the locations of the various holy artifacts around the sacturary. It wasn't, after all, the kind of "itch" that one gets from wool socks... it was the kind of itch one gets when one realises one is a pilgrim in a strange land - full of people who have their whole minds set on very very different dogmatic outlines from your own. Kneeling and singing, peace be with you, praying and lots more God stuff - and then after a very long time, it was all over.

While pictures of the newlyweds and the wedding party were being taken, we-the-throng mobbed a nearby pub and ate appetizers until it was cocktail time at the country club. What a country club! Great facility. Very Lah-Tee-Dah.

Speeches, food (wow - the food!), tinkling glasses (holy crap, there were so many glasses!), cake (OMG THAT CAKE!), and then the music started. And then the dancing started. We danced for hours, the throng and I, inexhaustibly and deliriously. And then suddenly I was back in bed trying to squeeze 8 hours of sleep into 5 so that I could be fully awake for breakfast with my father in law the next morning. Breakfast was awesome, and immediately thereafter we were back in the car driving another 14 hours home.

All told, it was a very sophisticated and polished affair. As is the case with any wedding, there were so many things I’d have never dreamed of doing for my own wedding (which is borne out by the fact that I didn’t) but every single one of those things suited this happy couple right down to the ground and reflected them perfectly. She’s a CPA, he’s a Pilot. They hit every high note and planned/executed every detail perfectly.

It's actually hard now to explain what it was like at this affair. It was like walking around in a wedding magazine. And it was like walking around in a magazine dedicated to them. And they are wonderful people. And they are beautiful people. And they will live VERY happily ever after.

Welcome to happily ever after, wedding #1. You’ve earned it.

2009: Year Of A Thousand Weddings

Oh Boy this is going to be a busy year! Wedding #1 is nigh, and we’ll be on our way there in just a few short weeks. Let’s see, as of right now, there are five planned and scheduled weddings to which we have been invited this year. There are at least three additional engagements we know of which could pick a date any day now (or months from now) for anytime this year or next (providing they don’t sneak away to Vegas first, which is likely in at least two of the cases).

Wedding #1. Highschool buddy of my own beloved, for whom my own beloved will be acting as best man. Very Cool. We will be driving out there too, so that means a lot of time off work. Oy. I won’t complain about that though, since I’m REALLY looking forward to the together time with the man who pledged his own heart to me not so long ago.

At first big road trips like this always seem like a major drag. Twelllve Hourrrrs in the carrrrr. Driving across Nebraaaaaska. BLARGH! But then the reality starts to sink in and I can’t escape how really wonderful it is to be “stuck” in that car with this man. We inevitably laugh our fool heads off, listen to loads of great new music, and just talk. For 12 hours we are the other’s captive audience and if it’s fart jokes or string theory we talk about it… at length… if we want to or not. And then there’s the non-talking where one just drives and gets lost inside a head full of directions and road signs and music and memories and the other stares out the window or reads in silence and eventually falls gracelessly asleep. There are a few miles in there when we’re both awake and silent and lost in thought, swimming through miles of our own remembered decisions, mistakes or daydreams. When we know the way, these kinds of road trips are almost always wonderfully refreshing.

When we’re going someplace neither of us has been, all bets are off.

Luckily there haven’t been too many of those kinds of trips and we’re much better at getting OCD with the maps and directions than we used to be. We’re much better at picking music that doesn’t interfere with navigation (or sanity) and we’re finally in a place where we can experiment (!!) with various kinds of listening material including books-on-CD.

This year we’re looking into some books-on-CD from the library. We’ve had great success with some of Garrison Keillor’s stuff (though Jason got tired of that pretty quickly) and I very much enjoyed the series of 1940’s-era spooky-radio-show CD’s (again, Jason got pretty tired of that too, but we STILL joke about BLUE! COAL! regularly). For this trip I’ll try to find something a little more CSI and a little less Masterpiece Theater. Lord knows I could listen to anything Douglas Adams ever wrote, but my poor husband probably will not get as big a charge out of it as I do.

All in all, I am super excited about this year: The Year Of A Thousand Weddings. Each one will be so different, and so romantic, and so festive. And the journey to each wedding will be so different each time too – even though we’re making the same drive three times for three different couples. The seasons will be different, the farming-stages of America's bread basket (aka tornado alley) will be different, and the gods know that the HEAT levels will be different. If you’re one of the lucky ones getting hitched this year – I couldn’t be more pleased for you! If I get to come, I couldn’t be more flattered by your invitation or grateful for the chance to steal away in your honor with my own true love and just spend some quality together time on the way to your beautiful day.

Mazeltov!

Memories of the reception....

I've been dreading this post. It means that I'll have recorded everything that there is to record about the most amazing party I've ever been a part of and the most amazing day I'll have ever experienced. It means that everything that I had been planning, came into fruition and is now long done. It means that it's all over. *le Sigh*

What a reception though, ya know? In reviewing the pictures, both professional and whatchyacallit... candid, I see more and more images of stuff I KNOW for sure was MY wedding but can't for the life of me figure out exactly where it laces into my own remembered timeline.

Everyone who attended looked great - I was NOT kidding in my speach when I said that they shined up pretty dang good! I had the spicy chicken (the "jerk chicken" hee hee hee) and white wine, and a sweet friend of ours kept open bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade at my plate. Our entire family was lined up brilliantly behind us at a long table and our assembled throng, assembled around tables in front of us. We ate, the DJ played a Scott-Joplin piece for my father, and we started working the crowd. All too soon, the music started playing and it was time for the father-daughter dance. For another non traditional twist, I did that dance with my brand new father in law who is also a tango MASTER. Seriously, he teaches tango back home and actually won the heart of his own fiancee with his skill. It was a dream. My groom danced with his mom.

I got to dance with my groom too - and we had our first dance to none other than Etta James' "At Last". because dude... AT LAST!

There was dancing in the tent outside, music everywhere, lights hung low enough to be romantic but not in the way (nice touch I hadn't planned on at all.) My folks retired to the inside of the bed and breakfast and entertained the non-dancers and chatted with our friends seeking respite from the frenzy. My feet never hurt, my makeup never bled, my hair didn't budge. There were maracas!!! There was a grass skirt!!! The air grew chilled and people filtered out and trickled home as the merriment carried on for the evening. All I could feel was happy euphoria. It was such an honor to be surrounded by so many fun people, each of whom had personally been a part of my groom's and my life to the point that if it weren't for these people, we wouldn't have gotten married. Or even MET for that matter. You know who you are.

It was a blast. The DJ played Mellencamp's "Jack and Dianne" to the enthusiastic joy of all assembled. My beloved and I danced surrounded by our friends and family. We partied and danced and drank ourselves into the kind of oblivion I think I'll never experience again - the kind you get from being happy to the point of overflowing. NOTE: oblivion was not booze induced. Seriously. I never felt "boozy drunk" the entire night. Just drunk with "lurve".

The crowd finally dwindled, the music came to a close, and we all collapsed exhausted in the main hall living room for some final goodbyes and unwinding.

After some light, exhausted conversation, my husband and I (the last ones awake in the house) locked all the doors, turned off all the remaining house lights tiptoed up to our bridal suite.

The night went brilliantly. It was better than anything I could have prepared myself for and I will always remember the feelings of it - if not so much the nuance. I'm doing a terrible job at capturing it actually, but it was wonderful. It was full of wonder and it was wonderful.

Now, months and months later, I'm a wife. I wear my wedding ring on my left hand and my matching engagement ring on my right hand. My husband wears his ring on his left hand, too, and I'm often found reaching over to just touch it there, strong on his finger. Nothing has changed. We're still us, we still laugh like children when the cat burps, and we still grimmace with stress when something in the house breaks. We are so happy.
We are so, so happy.

Now all I need is a job.

On the 8th day

Eight days married.
It is strange. Nothing has changed and everything is different. It's in a good way - but it's different. I knew it would be, and yet here I am still kinda' hung up on it.

No matter. I promised you a review of the ceremony and a review you shall have. At the rehearsal on the previous day, we had walked through getting the family in and situated, getting the stuff set up, getting the basics walked through. What a great idea that was because while the real thing was all going on as I was cloistered up in my panic room-slash-bridal suite unable to watch it unfold or fix any other small details. Our dads walked in and brought with them a pitcher of local mineral water and an antique goblet. Our moms walked in and each brought with them a lovely boxwood wreath to place between the assembled throng and the closest of our family memebers - memorializing our ancestors and giving them permission to attend while also marking off a place for them to be during the entire process. Don't be fooled, kids, there was magic about and I had done my best to make sure of it.

So the sun blazed at that brutal 4:30 angle in Colorado autumns where you can sorta see, but not really. It shone strongly and clearly behind us through a crystal blue sky - one of the retina-searingly blue skies you get in Colorado autumns. Much to the unexpected chagrin of our assembled throng, as soon as our families found their seats, my groom and I walked in at the same time - from opposite wings of the ceremony site and just suprised the hell out of everyone. They were waiting for me to walk down the aisle and then uh-oh, there we were all ready *poof* up at the ceremony site with our officiant. Hee hee hee. I'm tricksy that way.

Oh my goodness I was shaking. Honestly I can't tell you much nuts and bolts about the ceremony, like how long it took or what happened when. Time stopped and went too fast at the same time. All I could do was shake, and smile, and just feel utterly overcome with that once-in-a-lifetime feeling that a bride gets when all of her dreams come true. Geh, that seems a little saccharine, but you know what I mean. I glistened in the sun. I was a bride. My groom stood before me and took my hands and I'll be darned if I didn't see him fight back a leaky tearduct or two. He also glistened in the sun. He stood up there like a warrior and a scholar and a prince and he just looked at me and held my hands. I don't know if it was the sun on my face or the power of the moment or the strength of his gaze; I felt blast-furnace heat all around me.

We said our lines. We performed an effortless water ceremony (which was lucky because that goblet was a priceless antique basically)(that's what the pitcher and the goblet were for). Suddenly there was a ring on my finger. There I was putting a ring on my groom's finger. I heard a high-pitched ... something... in the back of my head. The giant tree in the middle of the patio shook lightly and the sun dipped even closer to the tops of the mountains behind us. Birds flew overhead (ravens, I'm told) and then I was kissing my husband.

I felt both weak and strong - like a windsock in a tornado I guess... because I couldn't really feel my feet or my shoulders or my face anymore. All that was left was just a rushing sensation - a charging, forceful rushing sensation had filled me up from stem to stern. There was nothing left of me. I was still shaking and laughing and smiling - and as each person came in to hug us and congratulate us... a tiny little piece of me fell back into place. Hugs and congratulations and then there were hors-d'ourves. Everything was glisteningly perfect. Then I was signing something. I had to ask what my name was. Other people were signing it too. There was a hanky in my hands but I wasn't crying. The whole world glistened.

That ceremony was a thunderstrike of magic and power and true perfection. It was perfect because of what it was - not because of what I wanted it to be. I think that's a big lesson I should hope every future bride can discover... that the perfect wedding doesn't come from the billions-of-barcodes weddings you see on TV or the "dreamt of it since I was 3" hysteria that our society wraps us up in. Perfection isn't about toenails matching napkins or linnens contrasting with favor ribbons. A perfect wedding, a REALLY perfect wedding, happens when the bride can say to herself "I have set up the things which I think are important, I have added some things which we all can find lovely, and everything that happens now is going to be great because it is the day when my true love promises to spend his whole life with me - and nothing else matters."

After all, nobody remembered to give boutonniers to anyone, and I did the whole thing with my gorgeous bouquet still in the fridge.

It was a perfect day. It was a perfect ceremony.

and oh lord, that reception. I'll have to give you THAT story next. But you already can guess that it was absolutely perfect.

Emotional Hangover

Wow. Five days married.
I'm trying to describe the last few months and suddenly the keyboard seems too small, the english language even seems ... insufficient. Language is insufficient.
The wedding, was just divine.
The weeks and days leading up to it were totally absurd.
The hours and moments now are like so surreal it just blows my danged mind.

Like the title says - I have an emotional hangover. We're putting together a website thingy where everyone can post pictures and look at everyone else's pictures... so if you know how to email me and want access to either upload or view, then let me know and I'll hook ya'z up. Sorry stalkers, no soup for you.

Anyway, the details of the wedding are beyond really capturing "perfectly" so I'll give you the highlights tour from my own experience and just hope for the best. After all, that's what you're here for, right?

Wedding morning, Main Squeeze and I ate breakfast together with everyone at the bed and breakfast and spent the morning/early afternoon bumbling around the small mountain downtown. Met up with my bestest buds from college for some laughs and then it was back to the B n' B for some serious wedding-ing. The main squeeze and I had been sharing a room *gasp* and so when it was time to get ready he had to collect his things and do so in his father's room. (we all stayed in the same house at a gorgeous bed and breakfast). Everyone I met as part of the wedding noted (at length) how calm and collected I was. For days and days folks told me how cool I seemed, how together, how smooth and unruffled...

Well, the moment the door closed behind him I Lost. My. Mind.

Calm little me turned into a hysterically sobbing, squishy and redfaced smear of a me. I sobbed and convulsed, alone, in my room, with the perfect afternoon looming ahead of me. I panicked and paced, and sobbed. I sat on the squashy bridal suite couch and my brain folded wetly into itself and just gave up. I sobbed and sobbed - and not a single fiber of my soul could resist - because not one single fiber of my soul could feel anything but utter and sheerest euphoria. I was happy. I was pure, unadulterated (*henh*) happy and the sensation washing over me weakened my knees and absolutely broke me. It terrified me. It pulled me to the core of the earth and hugged me and warmed me and all the birds of my heart just exploded into flight at once.

I was happy. It was real. This was real. My swollen red face and shivering shoulders proved it. My system was so overloaded with it all that there was nothing left but to sob. Alone. In my bridal suite.

Luckily, and probably within only a minute or two, friends were already knocking and arriving to prepare me for my big moment. Hugs, sweet sweet hugs, and more tears... and then Wine. Vino. Ahhh. Those ladies are brilliant, gentle reader... for as soon as I had a glass (or four) of wine in me my nerve returned and I soon steeled myself enough to snap out of it. For the most part. I was still wetly convulsive for most of the rest of the day - but the hysterics had passed. I even managed to scrape on a pretty little face of my own with makeup and everything! Some very precious friends of mine, all women, answered the ancient call of bridal-prep and did my hair (perfectly) and touched up my face (perfectly) and poured me into my dress (perfectly) and jabbed me down the stairs to my ceremony (perfectly). The daughter of a friend of mine helped me with my shoes. I was surrounded by ancient voices, older sentiments, and loving hands yeilding only perfection. No magical incantation can match that, gentle reader. None.

I suppose I have to break this thought off now, and write about the actual ceremony next time. But I have to tell you that I would not have made it down those stairs if it were not for the magic produced in that room in those precious moments. And the wine. But mostly for the friends and the women who surrounded me. Who made me perfect.

In a way that I have never ever been. In a way that I will always strive to be.

Thanks ladies.

hiatus

I think I'm back in a place where I can write regularly again!

Can you forgive me for my absence? How about if I put in an awesome wedding picture?

What to wear? What to wear?

So I don't know about you, but every time I get invited to a wedding my gut does this happy little jig that alters between "yay! I get to look pretty!" on one foot and "holy crap, what does 'evening demi-formal' mean?". Ya know? it's like, yes, we all like to look great, but nobody wants to be the only idiot in a bedazzled denim jacket at an event that's brimming with black ties and tiaras.

Because a few of my best buds have already started asking, I thought I'd assemble the following advice, most of it gleaned directly from an email sent to one of my bestest.

I'll resist the urge to say what every bride on earth says when confronted with the question of "what do you want your guests to wear?". Most brides gleamingly proclaim: "whatever makes you comfortable!" because even though, "thanks captain obvious" when push comes to shove, that is not really helpful.

Here's the dirt: let's make a scale of 1 to 10. At number 10 you've got the sparkly and uber-formal cinderella with sparkly rhinestone/glass shoes that match her fingernails AND the imported chekoslovakian crystals in her platinum tiara. Then at number 1, you have the cat lady from the simpsons. Let's put our favorite weekend jeans on the 3. Let's assume business caszj. is at around number 5, where ladies wear linen pants or stylish skirts with pretty blouses and men put on ties sometimes with their white shirts, tan pants and brown shoes. Let's also assume that budget constraints will predictably keep folks away from 8 and 9. So I'm thinking that if you can hit a 6 or a 7, that'd be perfect. Hell, even a 5 would be just fine! What does that leave us with? "flouncy busniess caszj"? "Formal" inasmuch as it is closer to cinderella than cat lady, but still something you can be comfortable in. Something you don't wear every week, but something you know you look awesome in. Skirts, flouncy pants, whatever!

Note, this will be mostly outdoors in October, and chilly (likely) with an equal chance of snow on the ground as rain as 80 degree sunshine... so providing for layers is a great idea. Colors will be great too! Lots of color. Be a hawaiian shirt-gone-hollywood or be a brilliant vision in blue. If I'm lucky, the mountains will be in chocolatey browns and glittery golds, the sky will be a deep crystalline blue. If I'm not lucky, the mountains will be baby-food brown and the sky will be hazy and urine-y (tres romantique, n'est pas?) Realize that this means that I'm not going to be picky about clashing or contrasting with ANYTHING. Be pretty, feel pretty, and be in it to laugh and dance and eat and cavort.

Does that help? I hope so. I probably just wrote the long version of "whatever you want" but I hope it's a little more informative as to how I hope the thing will go and look without dictating "thou shalt wear tea-length pencil skirts in springburgundy, or pintuck-orange" because... seriously? Barfff.

and by the way, because of the location... super-spiky femme-fatale heels = not a good idea.
Be nice to your feet and ankles. They do so much for you already!

Another LONG Pause

Dang I'm not any good at this "regular updates" business.

Be that as it may, I HAVE UPDATES!

Where to begin? Well, let's start with the reason most of you read this... wedding information! YAY! Okay, so we have a DATE picked out and etched in stone (so help me) and publishable and printable and tell-everyone-able. The Main Squeeze and I will be tying the knot this year on October 18th. Kindof an arbitrary day, no real reason or magic to the numbers. If you read something nice about it though, do tell me. Like if that's the day Mars turns green and the house of Plymfoozle kneels to the fourth house of the sun for another four weeks of leather hotpants or something, I'm down with that.

So yeah, we have a date. ALSO we have a location! HUZZAH! I'm sure you can scroll downish and see that I was so feverishly upon yonder fence about locations alpha and beta. Well wouldn't you know it I found THE best location just a block away from alpha and I shall now announce that it will be referred to as location... erm... delta. Because Delta is something like math-speak for change. yeah. dig it.

Location Delta has all the romance AND ease of use of both of the other options combined with the added perk that it's a Bed and Breakfast that YOU, gentle reader, can stay at for the night before and the night of the big event! Sound EXCITING? EXHILLERATING? The best part is that we are contracted into only seven rooms out of the whole property so those fill up quick with family and the rest of the rooms can be booked or not booked as my guests see fit. No con games. No guilt trips. No begging for already tight budgets to go an extra 500 miles on TOP of a schmantzy resort room. Neat, eh? In time I'll consider putting up the actual link, but I'm not sure I'm ready yet for my slavering stalkers out there (all none of you) to start pencilling my data into their calendars. If you want the link, email me and I"ll hook ya'z up. And you know, look for the info in your invitations and whatnot. Lord, the whatnot. I'll worry about that later.
So that's cool, henh? Two big chunks of information for ya.

The temp job is going well. It's robotic, and mind-bendingly dull but it's a job and it pays the mortgage so I'm not complaining. Full Breakfast Fridays also help to gloss over the 40 hours of business-casual brain-draining. And, for the record - can I just say something about business casual?
It so totally sucks. Whatever ranks above it, more formal than B.C. sucks-eth even moreth, but b.c. as it is is just a big bucket of suck. My body is not built for button-front blouses or poly-blend pants. It's just not... and certainly not on THIS budget. The tops fit... barely... and gods forbid I need to raise my arms above my head or BLAM there goes that button and suddenly I'm all Fredrick's of Hollywood again. And the pants?! My GODS what is with those pants? What the hell is with those two snooty little silvery rabbit teeth that hold my pants closed? DAMN THOSE RABBIT TEETH! First of all, I can't see them. Sorry folks, the ginormous cans are in the way and gods help me but there's just no way to go to the bathroom and put everything back together without a mirror because do those wicked little designers put them on straight? NOOOO they don't. Do they make them so that you can tactile-ly sortof sense when they're like, latched? NOOO they don't. And my favorite design flaw is that there are always two if not more, so even if I"m lucky enough to get one of them in right, I have to essentially undo it again to catch the other little fucker. So if someone from my work is reading this and they go into the ladies room and hears a snarl of colorful swears... that's me trying to do up my go-ram pants already.

Go-ram. you get that? it's terminology from Firefly. Great series. I gnash my teeth at the execs that killed it after one season and whole-heartedly encourage anyone unfamiliar with it to go see it now. Right now. Thank me in the comments. It's space, it's cowboys, it's hot chicks and manly men... gods it has it all. And yes... I'm a tree-mendous nerd but don't let that stop you from skidoodling out that door right now to go buy yourself a copy of the full first season of Firefly. Joss Whedon. I need not say more.

So that's it... except wait! What's that picture? OH! I've been busy with the glass, too, after all of this. See how far we've come? I am just DYING to see what this is gonna look like all finished.
Couldn't you just DIE?!?!?!

Happy Monday!

Wedding Updates

We're getting pretty close to chosing a location now. We started by looking at the most gorgeous, knock-your-socks-off destinations colorado has to offer and realized one by one, that because most of our guests will be from out of state, it's just too cruel to expect them to pop in for a quick ceremony and reception at 80billion feet above sealevel. No matter how lovely the location was, we just couldn't do that to our guests.

Most of the locals (read: my family) wouldn't have had a problem with it but I'd be willing to bet that everyone else would be at risk of a 2-in-5 ratio of some kind of unpleasant side effect; be it headaches, gastric problems, stiff joints, car sickness, or just dizzyness and gasping for air.

Alas.

So we're looking more down here in the foothills now and finding some supercool locations that are not only lovely and well appointed but also user friendly and easy to get to. Huzzah! Also, we're narrowing down to places that won't require me to con my friends and family into staying at the same place for four nights in a row at some $300 a night. Ooph, right? yeah. I'm so not that person. and yeah, we so don't have that budget to begin with anyway.

We've found one place, let's call it location Alpha simply because I'm mentioning it first. Alpha is a sweet little pink-stone victorian mansion, buried deep in a tight and burbly canyon at the foot of an enormous looming mountain. Appletrees, arbors, and a large reception room add to the appeal. Sadly, I'd have to get ready at a hotel someplace else and arrive all set to go because there are no facilities onsite in which to do the whole bride-prep thing. (neither is there such a thing for the groom... ) But that's not exactly a HUGE drawback. There are lots of family-style fun colorado-y things to do there. There are lots of cute and romantic couples' retereats nestled nearby. Also a plus is the fact that it's located in a darling little hole-in-the-wall mountain-style town similar to the one I grew up in.

Location Beta is still in the running because it is easy peasy to get to and offers loads of flexibility in planning on TOP of the fantastic dining space and a darling green and primped actual ceremony venue. Inescapably appealing at this venue are some of the coolest danged loose chickens in the "back" there that you ever saw... you know, those fancy chickens with the explode-o hair styles and the big fluffy pants and the cartoonishly swooshy tailfeathers? aw yeah. Anyway, location Beta, as I'm sure you've noticed by now, is far less scenic. It's not exactly the place I hoped people would see when I would say "hey, come to colorado and see me get hitched"... because it's not really what I think of when I think of colorado. There are mountains, waaaaay over there, and there are sweeping views of the east, but mostly it's an opulent suburban wedding-specific venue that's lovely for what it offers... not for where it is. We did quick drive-by's of two final mountainous locations that were at the very brink of what we'd demand of our guests as far as travel goes... and that quick glance was all it took to wipe them clean off the list of possibilities. One was a little too, darkly woodsy and deliverance-ish. The other was in a cemetary and a mere stone's throw away from the kind of massive church that hangs giant 4-story banners announcing Jesus' love alongside mass times. Also I'm told that it has people buried under where the ceremony would have taken place.
Zombies + Wedding = Disaster Every Time

So we're down to the two facilities I discussed earlier. Alpha is significantly more antique-y with a distinctly Firefly kind of appeal (fans of all things Joss Whedon will know what I'm talking about) and Beta has a largely "look who is getting married here at the gorgeous marriage place" kind of feel. With adorable chickens. One offers romance in place of what it lacks in convenience, and one offers opulence and ease in place of the dearth of spectacular colorado surroundings.

Even the quotes and costs can't convince us one way or the other. Anyway, that's what we're up to. Will go see a few more facilities this weekend in the same part of the state as the Alpha location and then I think we'll be saturated enough to make our decision.