Don't Give Up On Me!

I swear to God I'll write more often. It's not like I'm busy or anything right? Well actually, last, last weekend was my "staglette" weekend. That's what this Canuck I met at Cathouse in Vegas called it. So crazy, so memorable. Don't fret dear readers (all three of you) I will reveal the good parts next week. I'll tell you everything else that happened off the record.
So invitations were sent out two Thursdays ago and last week. I had to send them out in batches cause it's only me addressing them baby. I hope you guys liked them. It wouldn't have been possible without good ol' Illustrator. Don't forget to send those RSVP's in. Thank you to those who have!
Last weekend Oskar and I headed to Santa Barbara to talk to the lighting guy and florists. Fun times. My mom decided to wear a zinnia in her corsage. Yeah, see, this is why I haven't posted anything cause nothing new has happened.

Oh! That's not completely true. So, a couple weeks ago I started looking at projects to do for the reception. I found this really cute craft thing that I am not going to give away. But my friend Cladia Guzman saw a sample I made and asked me to show her how to do it, which I did. And then suddenly she took over the project which I am not complaining about because hello! She's a total lifesaver. You'll see her handiwork on your reception table. She is my Martita Stewart. ¡Gracias Claudia!
Lastly before this glass of wine finally puts me to sleep (Kenneth Volk, Negrette) I went to my bridal salon to pay the remaining balance of my dress. And I got to try it on again. I wasn't going to because I was all gross from the LA heat and chasing after two year olds, but Roza, the owner, wouldn't hear of it. "Don't you want to see it?" she asked.
"Okay," I mumbled, embarrassed at my un-bridal behavior.
"More pouffy?" asked one of the staff when I put on the petticoat.
"No thank you." I said putting on a sweater feeling a little too cold with just my underwear on. I felt like I was at the doctor's office.
A little while later another girl came with a plastic bag, the contents of which looked like a folded up comforter. "What is that?" I asked.
She took it out without answering and I realized it was my dress.
Giving me a once over as I took off my sweater she asked,
"more pouffy?"
"No, it's okay."
Seriously no more crinoline people!
I swear putting on that dress is a two man operation. She held on to the bodice over her head and said "Come on honey."
I dove in with my arms extended over my head and dug through fabric until I saw the other opening.
"Okay get on the platform," she commanded.
I stood on the wooden mini-stage and took a deep breath in. Unlike the first time I came to the salon and tried on the dress, this time I was all alone. I didn't want anyone else to give their opinion. I wanted to make sure that I had made the right choice.
The girl who helped me put on the dress, was the same one who had helped me try on those five or six the very first time I went there. "Oh my god it fits perfect," she said.
And it did. Okay so there's like four inches of extra bust, but everything else fit like a glove.
"I'll leave you alone so you can enjoy."
And there I was all by myself. I think I even talked to myself at one point. When I turned around to look at my reflection from a different angle, I noticed the door was open. "Whoops!" I thought.
I gotta tell you, I love it. So sparkly when it catches the light. It's the most extravagant outfit I've ever worn. The train is even longer than I remember it. Bridesmaids take note! One of you will have to come with me for my last fitting when they show me how to bustle up the train. That way you will know how to do it for the reception. Bring a notebook or a video camera if you need to.
Anywho, the chick came back in and asked me if everything was okay and if I was going to take it. "For sure," I said.
I wondered how many brides came to the salon and found something wrong with their dress. How many of them refuse to pay the rest of the deposit? What do they do? I should have asked. But I ain't the reporter of the family.

So Norma asked me why I didn't bring the dress home with me. I could have, the staff asked me if I wanted to. But I know the temptation would be too great to try the dress on again and again. I really am afraid of messing it up. Plus if it gets lost at the store, I'm pretty sure I could get another one on them right?

One last item before I head out. The wedding planning has taken it's toll on me. I'm stressed out. I feel almost Britney-esque. I start babbling in a cockney accent and wander around barefoot. Anyway, last Thursday I went to the gym to let off some steam. As I walked back to my car I double checked my belongings to make sure I had everything. Everything looked fine but I had a nagging feeling I forgot something.
Flash forward five hours later. I went to my room to make my bed and put some stuff away cause it's been taken over by bridal magazines and invitations. "Wait a minute!" I looked at the things on my bed that a couple hours earlier I had with me at the gym. My driver's license, my ATM card and my gym card were missing. I tore through my clothes, my purse, my bed, my hair, the car-nada. So I called the gym and whew! Someone had gallantly turned in my stuff to the front desk. This only happened to me once before in college when I went out partying and wandered back home and decided to have a smoke in the parking lot but first thought it would be okay to dump out my purse in search for a light. I left my I.D. and ATM card in the parking lot. I freaked out the next morning and went outside to retrace my step. Sure enough there they were right next to a couple used matches.