Undressed

With my wedding to Paul only 39 days away, life has been crazy busy gettin' ur done, and not leaving things to the last minute (as per my usual live-on-the-edge procrastination style). I've had nightmares of showing up at the ceremony and the Justice of the Peace isn't there because we forgot to call her. Or, forgetting to get the marriage license and then not being able to tie the knot. Very Freudian I'm sure.

My wedding dress finally arrived. I couldn't sleep a wink the night before, I was so anxious to see my dress for the first time. Touch it. Wear it. OMG would it even fit?

I took Paul's daughter Hannah (age 9) with me for the unveiling, a nice step-mother step-daughter bonding moment. I unzipped the garmet bag, and got all goose-bumpy. The dress is the perfect medium shade of ivory to match my redheaded complexion. I slipped my feet into the dress, pulled it up to my chest, zipped it up. It was...too big. Ok, I can deal with that. After all, that's why God invented tailors. I turned around to face the mirror. And...nothing. I thought this moment would make me cry or make me feel "this is THE dress" or something, anything. All I felt was slightly underwhelmed. Which is NOT the feeling you want to have when trying on your [2nd and last] wedding dress.

I went out to the waiting room to show Hannah. Surely she would see something I was missing, and reassure me the dress was DDG and I looked radiant. All my doubts were placed in the hands of a 9 year-old girl.

Me: "What do you think Hannah?"
Hannah: "Uh................................."

It's too late to order another dress. So, I decided to focus on the positives of the dress - makes me look tall and lanky with curves in all the right spots. And the color looks amazing on me if I do say so myself (well somebody's got to!).

Besides, it's all about the accessories. They make an outfit. Right? I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

Paul tried to smooth things over by telling me I'd look radiant in anything. Uh huh. What a GUY thing to say. Some smuck probably told his bride-to-be she'd look good in this outfit too (see right).

Oh bloody hell.

Oy!

After an action-packed weekend which included my Toyota Corolla receiving a lap dance from a Hummer on Sunday (so not cool), I fell asleep exhausted last night.

This morning at work I get a call from my mother.

Mum: "How come I'm hearing that you were in a car accident from Facebook?"

How can one woman inject such guilt into one simple question? I swear I have Jewish relatives somewhere. And the way she said "Facebook" like it was a person, a person who I told a secret too. I remember when she used to say the same thing, but about my blog. Seriously, my mom is the only one I know who could be jealous of a non-entity.

To maintain my good-daughter status, I offered to call my mom more often with updates on my life, so she wouldn't have to read it second-hand from a social networking site.

And true-to-form I called her that very evening with an "update" - a job interview for a swanky new position!

Me: "Hi Mum, just calling you with an update on my life since this morning."
Mum: "Ok, but make it quick. I'm on my way to a dinner party."

I can't win.

WTF Friday

Today I checked myself out in the mirror in our office bathroom (typical). And I realized WTF was I thinking when I got myself dressed this morning (untypical)? My outfit du jour is...colorful (think lilac, mint green, cream AND coral) if not a tad bit frumpy in a covers-too-much-of-me kind of way. When I'm much more of a show-off-an-asset kind of girl. Oddly enough, Paul had given it his approval, wanting us to be late for work so he could show me how much he liked it. Humph! Men!

It doesn't help matters that I've forgotten my glasses somewhere and can barely see a thing on my PC screen. Actually, maybe that could be my defense for my outfit. Not that my coworkers would say anything [to my face].

Unfortunately the receptionist has just informed me that my 1 o'clock appointment (which I completely completely forgot about) is here to see me. And 15 minutes early at that. How long does it take to make a paperclip dress?