Pinch Me

With the wedding date fast approaching, I’ve been having quite a few wedding related nightmares. I’m really not surprised at all; I always dream very vividly, so it makes sense that the stress of wedding planning has started influencing my dreams. I’ve woken up in a cold sweat on more than one occasion, shouting things like “OHMYGAWD THE RABBI GOT LOST!”

I know wedding nightmares are fairly common, but I figured you’d get a kick out of hearing what exactly is going on in my crazy head.

Dream One:

I’m in my wedding dress, getting ready to leave the house with my mother. We’re excitedly packing up a few last-minute items, when a police cruiser pulls up in front of our house, lights flashing. The officer looks very grim indeed as he comes walking down our driveway, and I get a horrible feeling that this has something to do with me.

Sure enough, the officer cuffs me. “Ma’m, I’m afraid you’re under arrest.”

At this point, my mother is freaking out. “She’s going to her WEDDING, you idiot. Can’t you see she’s wearing a wedding dress????”

For whatever reason, I’m still calm and rational enough to ask the officer why he’s arresting me. And here’s where it gets a little ridiculous.

“You’re under arrest for failure to return a movie rental to Blockbuster. The movie in question is entitled Made of Honor.”

Cue instant panic. “But that was months ago!!! I tried to return it, but Blockbuster went out of business!! It wasn’t even a good movie. It’s not like I WANTED to keep it. You can’t arrest me for that. I’m getting MARRIED! Today! You can’t arrest me! There’s not even a Blockbuster for me to return the movie to!!!!”

The officer was deaf to my pleas and shoved me in the back of the police cruiser. And I woke up.

Dream Two:

I’m in my wedding dress, again. Mr. Unicorn and I are getting ready to walk down the aisle together, and I peek out the window at the guests being seated.

Out of the blue, some random chick appears. Mr. Unicorn chooses this moment to confess that he’s not going to marry me after all. I feel like I’ve just been punched in the stomach. I plead with him, ask him why, and threaten to kill the random chick where she stands before finally realizing that Mr. Unicorn is not going to budge on this. I look through the window again, and I see that everyone is waiting for us to make our grand entrance.

I decide that I have only one option. The show must go on. I need a replacement groom. One quick phone call, and my friend Rob appears out of nowhere. I try to squeeze him into Mr. Unicorn’s wedding outfit. I say “squeeze” because Rob is a foot and a half taller than Mr. Unicorn and twice as wide. Finally, I give up. We end up walking down the aisle together, but he’s completely naked except for a navy bow tie and a boutonniere. Needless to say, our guests are utterly shocked. And I woke up.

Dream Three:

I’m in my wedding dress, again. This time, I know that all the guests have made it to the venue, and they are just waiting on me; I had to run some last minute errand or something before the wedding.

I grab my bouquet and start walking to the venue. It’s not long, however, before I realize that I’m totally lost. I have no idea where I’m going, but I keep walking, hoping that I stumble into the venue by accident. I start panicking, knowing full well that everyone else is already at the venue. Just when I start to REALLY panic, I woke up.

How about you, hive? Have you had any wedding nightmares? Do you think they mean anything, or is it just an overactive mind dealing with pre-wedding stress?

Weather Woes

Hive, I’ve been a little absent around here lately. With only 10 days to the wedding, my hectic work schedule, and fall semester just beginning, I feel completely overwhelmed. But I haven’t forgotten about you, and I hope you haven’t forgotten about me!

In fact, I went ahead and hammered out a few posts during my accounting class today. I gotta admit that I prefer blogging about wedding stuff to learning the difference between accounts payable and accounts receivable.

Anywho.

With the wedding date looming ever closer, it’s getting harder and harder not to think about the weather. Back in January, when we had juuuust started planning this thing, I made a solemn vow to myself that I would NOT think about the weather, and that I would just take everything in stride.

I know that there’s something to be said for romantic, misty, dewy wedding pictures, but I kind of have my heart set on a breezy, sunshiny wedding day. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow for my wedding day to actually make it into the ten-day forecast, but as of right now, it’s not looking too good.

The silly weather people are predicting thunderstorms for the three days preceding MY WEDDING DAY. What’s up with that? Did they not get the memo??? I’m kind of hoping that the sky gets it all out of its system on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, leaving me with the picture-perfect, partly-cloudy Saturday that I so desperately want.

I know there’s nothing I can do about the weather, and our venue has a “Plan B” in case it rains, but I reeeeeally want some sunshine. The “Plan B” is not nearly as gorgeous as the outdoor option, and the venue charges an extra $1000 for using it.

This is where you come in, hive. I need you all to pray, do anti-rain interpretive dances, send sunshine vibes, or WHATEVER you have to do.

How did the weather turn out on your wedding day? Rainy-day brides, do you have any words of consolation in case my wedding ends up being soggier than planned?

Trust Issues

Before ya’ll get to thinking that this post is going to be a really deep, philosophical look at my relationship with Mr. U, I’ll go ahead and let you know that my trust issues are of the superficial, hairstyling variety. As in, I don’t trust hairstylists.

I don’t know where this distrust began, but I’m convinced that hairstylists will tell you what you want to hear, regardless of how you actually look. Before any  hairstylists get their knickers in a twist, I'll go ahead and explain why I don't trust hair people.

Example A: My mother allowed her hairdresser to HACK OFF ALL HER HAIR!!! The hairdresser said she looked fabulous. We just stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, too shocked to say a word.

Example B: I volunteered to be a hair show model for a renowned, Belgian hairstylist that was doing a demonstration here in Atlanta. I came out with a MULLET. A PURPLE MULLET!!!! It was hideous, but every last hairdresser in the place oohed and ahhed over my hair massacre like it was a work of art. Mr. Unicorn gently told me that it looked as awful as I suspected. Below is the photographic evidence, should you be daring enough to view it. And before you get on to me about the fugly dress, I'll have you know that they MADE me wear that for the show.

Photo by Paul Mitchell Esani School.

Example C: One salon made me sign a WAIVER before doing my hair. I went ahead with the haircut, even though that was a total red flag. About five minutes into the haircut, my hairdresser sliced his hand open on thinning shears and bled all over me like it was going out of style. Not necessarily an example of a hairstylist lying about how I looked, but not exactly the best way to earn my trust either.

Needless to say, I’m a little nervous about getting my hair done for the wedding. I’ve been tossing around the idea of just straightening it myself and slapping the veil on, but everyone else seems to think I should step outta my comfort zone and get my hair professionally done. With much trepidation, I scheduled a hair trial at The Hair Artists, right across the street from our venue. The lady on the phone assured me that she had the perfect person for the job, and that all I had to do was show up with my veil.

I showed up to my trial fifteen minutes early with my grandma. It wasn’t long before a tiny blonde woman came bouncing up to introduce herself as my hairdresser, and I did my best to put aside my completely irrational fears. I whipped out my handy dandy phone to show her my “Wedding Hair” board on Pinterest, and she got to work right away.

Now, you may recall that I have crazy, two-tone hair at the moment thanks to a bout of temporary insanity. As it turns out, I am completely on trend with my ombre hairstyle—which my hairdresser refused to believe was entirely accidental—and the up-do I chose for the wedding is PERFECT for this kind of color treatment. Who knew?

Alas, I have LOTS of thick, wavy, unmanageable hair. The hairstylist did her best to wrestle it into submission, but I could tell she was getting frustrated.

Personal photo. Only for you, hive.

Once she was finished, this is what it looked like.

Personal photo. What it looks like with the veil.

Personal photo. This is what it looks like without the veil. The red braid looks really cool against the darker hair, no?

At first, I was thrilled with it. After I left, I wasn’t as thrilled.

For starters, you can totally see the rubber bands holding the braid together. There’s gotta be a way to make them less visible.

Personal photo. See the ugly bands?

I also feel that I need more volume on the top, or the whole thing will look flat and sad halfway through the wedding. As for the back, it looks like a rat’s nest.

Personal photo of the rat's nest that is the back of my head.

What do you think, hive? Should I start panicking? Or do you think she’ll do a better job on the day of the wedding? Should I abandon my pretty up-do with the braid idea and just wear my hair straight?

Nailed It!

Remember my last post about wedding nails? Well I’m bringing it up because I just bought three different nail colors to try out. Get ready, ladies. This is definitely going to be a picture-heavy post.

The first color is “Give Peach a Chance” by OPI for Sephora.

Personal photo.

The second is “Orgasm” by NARS. Could they have given it a more awkward name?

Personal photo.

And the third, “The Glimmer Twins in Gold,” is really more of an accent color.

Personal photo.

So I tried each color out individually.



Personal photo.

Slightly better angle. Personal photo.

Then I tried to get fancy. I put a gold stripe on the “Give Peach a Chance” finger so it’s sort of like a French Manicure with a twist. Then I dabbed a little gold glitter on the base of the nail coated in “Orgasm” by NARS. On the gold nail, I just went crazy with the glitter.

Personal photos.

This is where you come in, hive. I need ya’ll to help me choose. Which of the three colors, if any, gets your vote? What about the designs?

Here's one more picture showing all three in sunlight, but if you think they are all equally horrible, please don't hesitate to tell me so! I'm open to suggestions.

Personal photo.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Due to the fact that most of my girlies are coming in from out of town, I decided to take the reins and plan my own bachelorette party. I used to work at a local nightclub, so I’m pretty familiar with the club/bar scene in Atlanta. I have an idea of how I’d like the night to go, so I wasted no time at all in creating an event on Facebook and inviting all my girlfriends! Below is the tentative itinerary that I sent to my guests:  

6:00 p.m. –Hopefully most of you will have made it to Atlanta at this point. We’ll get things started at my house with some LIGHT drinks, a scintillating game of “Pin the Junk on the Hunk,” and dinner. I’m thinking Weenie Linguini with a cream sauce…  

9:00 p.m.—By now, we should all be looking fabulous for a night out on the town. Together, this posse of sexy thangs will head to Coronet Club and/or Bliss All Nude Male Revue via taxi to feast our eyes on the marvel that is the male physique. Penis-headbands strongly encouraged.

10:30 p.m.—Now we bid our newfound, nakie friends a fond farewell before hailing a taxi to take us to Midtown where all hell will surely break loose as we visit our favorite haunts: Tongue and Groove, Opera, etc.

3:00 a.m.—Taxi back to home base where we will nurse our hangovers and wear our melted-mascara raccoon eyes like a badge of honor.

Important information to keep handy:

REJECTION  HOTLINE NUMBERS: “Created in 2001, The Rejection Hotline is a fake phone number you can give out instead of your real number. Callers hear our humorous Rejection Hotline message and are not-so-subtly informed of your non-interest.” – humorhotlines.com

404-260-1318 - Atlanta
678-926-2362 - Atlanta
912-754-5588 – Savannah

I know a lot of people have mixed feelings about bachelor/bachelorette parties, but I think that it’s all in good fun. The male strip club is more of a joke, really, because—let’s be honest, ladies—the sight of a naked, grown man gyrating and thrusting on a stage is pretty hilarious and far from sexy.

I asked Mr. U what he’d be doing for his bachelor party and was amused to learn that he and his groomsmen will be going to the grown-up version of Chuck E. Cheese. Hey, if my man says he would rather go play skeeball and arcade games than go to a strip club, I certainly won’t complain.  

Whatcha think, hive? What did you do for your bachelorette party, if you had one? If not, what do you think of bachelorette/bachelor parties?