Well this might just be it peeps. I’m starting to doubt if I’ll ever have time to blog again before the ‘Big Day’ as everyone has started referring to, well, the big day. Things have well and truly spiralled out of control, as I knew they would from the minute we crossed the six month threshold. We’re now staring in the face of 4 months to go. 4 measly months.
We’re well and truly into the ‘fun’ stuff now, the nitty gritty, and still getting that same panicked reaction from everyone I meet, when they ask “when is the wedding?” and I reply, “November.” And they reply, “Wow, that’s soon!” The worst is when you get that reaction from prospective suppliers, partnered with a sort of grimace on their face like and that noise that goes with it like “Sheesh (insert grimace) (pause for effect). Soon. (stern face).” Oh come on! It’s not that soon! I’m not the lady looking for her wedding dress 9 days before the “big day”. Everything is absolutely 100% totally ON TRACK!! Woooooo.
To be honest, I was starting to get a little incey bit panicked for a while there. Not sure why. I think it was that other invisible line of end of financial year, starting to book things in at work for August, September, October….yeah it gets really real.
Also, I have been rendered completely incapable of having a conversation with anyone at all which does not somehow end up with me making it about, well, me and the wedding. I know I’m doing it, but I can’t help it. And I know it annoys everyone, I can sense their eyes glaze over (if we are face to face) or the sudden lack of eye contact as they busy themselves with something, anything, else. If we are on the phone, it’s an audible eye roll and a bit of a sigh, like here we go again. I’m sorry to all my friends and family for this, I can’t help it, and I don’t expect it will improve. So either avoid me at all costs, or suck it up. You have been warned.
I have busied myself making the ancillary parts to the invitations; info sheets, rsvp cards, hand drawn maps and labels while I await the arrival of the pièce de résistance letterpress. The most beautiful pieces of paper I have ever seen in my life, which had me close to weeing my pants (along with the bridesmaid dresses) as I made that amazing discovery a few months ago.
During this process, I discovered a few things about myself. As I ran back and forth to the big printer in the office, trying to execute some sort of convert operation, I realised that, firstly, I was starting to lose the plot. Not helped by the fact that I fucked up more than once with the upside down back to front issues involved when one is double sided printing. Oh yeah, and that’s only after I had already printed and guillotined at least half of the little buggers without remembering I was meant to double side print first. Bah! Admin migraine ensuing.
Also not assisting in any way, was the fact that every time I selected print from the manual feed tray and then proceeded to sprint (in highish heels) to the printer just 5 metres away to load the paper and then wait for the printer to ‘warm up’ and then usually fail to detect the paper at all and have a small meltdown, that the State Manager would curiously extract himself from his glass office and more often than not end up standing directly next to me, wondering why his memo hadn’t printed. Me, a fairly hideous liar at the best of times, more than likely had the most pained look on my face as I attempted to hide the fact that I was not only wasting company resources but a fair chunk of my time as well as I loitered for minutes at a time around the hunk of old crap printer, waiting, watching and randomly jabbing at unresponsive buttons that did nothing, NOTHING, to expediate the process.
Oh hang on, here we go, choom, choom, choom, yay! Printing. Beep beep beep. Oh shit. Paper jam. Why does the paper never jam when you’re just doing run of the mill work stuff? In my experience, it only ever jams when you’re doing personal shit. It’s like work ethic gods cursing you from their ergonomically designed chairs up in work ethic heaven. Damn you work ethic gods, gimme a break. I need to get this shit done while the boss is eating his stinky tuna and salad.
Enter paper jam from hell. A Marketing Manager, a Receptionist later, some heavy labour involving separating the printer bit from the paper feederer bit and smashing them back together at least ten times, the paper jam debacle is over. Enter next debacle – guillotining. I didn’t go to admin school. Instead, I wasted a large portion of my life chasing down some interchangeable, elusive dream of which a pre-requisite was a pretty useless university degree. It taught me nothing in the way of practical skills that would one day, unbeknownst to me, be a fairly major pre cursor to making your own ancillary invitation bits and pieces! Short story, guillotines are the quickest way to lose your mind. They’re usually as blunt as bat shit and after I had spent countless minutes trying all manner of ways to calculate and formulate a way to create a straight line, it is just not possible. Not possible.
Admin is not healthy, everyone that is not highly trained in this discipline should stay away, especially brides to be. Don’t do it. There are people that can help. It’s not worth it.
Ahhhh.
Then, we decided to go suit shopping. A task that had been pushed aside, neglected and bumped at every opportunity. Needless to say, it wasn’t at the top of Fiance’s to do list, and it would be like “yeah we’ll do it when we get time. Oh look this weekend is reallllly busy - we have to sleep in, get coffee, make breakfast and watch TV. Can’t fit it in. Maybe next weekend?”
So we finally found the time to go. We just kind of breezed our way into the city. I had done some initial research of course but, given the time lapse, I had misplaced my piece of paper in amongst all the shoe clipping (which have largely taken over my entire life). So the first stop was the only stop that I actually knew of off the top of my head. Problem. Closed . Couldn’t get near it. Shittety do da, shittety da, my oh my what a shittedy day, not many suits coming our way, shittedy do da, shittedy da.
Ok google (still unsure how people existed without it) show me the way! Great, one suit shop in town I have heard of even remotely, has to be in the tardus arcade which no one, not even someone who spent a year working in it (me), could ever find there way around with its tunnels and levels that make no sense. Somehow we managed to find the food court on level 3 and the shop conveniently located opposite to it, even though the shop number would have it located on level 1, phaseII. Anyway, in between discovering some sort of snot like substance on my dress, and talking to the most helpful suit expert ever, turns out Fiancé could literally click his fingers and make everything simple. First suit he tried was perfect. Done. Shit, it’s really that easy?
So, after a few high fives, and in my complete and utter disbelief at how the random snot got onto my dress, we decided to have another crack at wedding band shopping. Fiancé, still coming off his suit finding success, waltzes in with an air of confidence, and within 10 minutes, we were signing up for his gorgeous wedding band to match. OMG. So deliriously happy. Not only have we just ticked two major things off the fiancé to do list, but this man has just singlehandedly and effortlessly, brought me back to a more peaceful wedding planning reality… and way of life…peace is restored and life is again as it should be. For now.
