Wednesday wanted to hang out with some rulers, and there’s no stopping a cat on a mission.
Six-second exposures turned Wednesday into ghost cat.
By any means necessary, right?
And thus concludes this week’s Wednesday on a Tuesday.
Monthly Archives: August 2010
Following last night’s Starck-induced chairgasms via Emeco, I now present another ultimate want, Starck’s Mademoiselle chair. Favorite iteration? Transparent frame with chinese blue fabric.
Want.
Maybe it’s because we’re about to move, maybe it’s because I’m in the post-wedding nesting phase, maybe it’s because I’m desperately searching for inexpensive yet well-designed and ergonomic office chairs, but whatever the cause, I’m in serious chair mode. I have serious chair crushes on these chairs and stools from Emeco. Too bad that we don’t have the need (or cash-money) for any of these bad boys. They’re still fun to look at and pine over.
1. Kong Armchair, $1305-$2605 2. Kong Chair, $1200-$2395 3. Hudson Armchair, $785-$1565 4. 20-06 Armchair, $555 5. Navy Chair, $415-$1120 6. Morgans Chair, $670-$1335 7. Nine-0 Stacking Armchair, $485-$1165 8. Hudson Counter Stool with Arms, $955-$1905 9. 20-06 Barstool, $445
While we were fielding contact crisis 2k10, everybody meandered over to the restaurant to get set up.
We finally arrived, and everybody got seated for the toasts!
JP’s father went first. He welcomed everyone, imparted some words of wisdom, and then somehow we all started discussing how to properly count like a German. (You know, in case there is an Inglorious Basterds situation and we don’t want to get shot.) The Americans tried to do the German hands, and the Germans tried to do our American-counting hands.
Made for some pretty fun and interesting photos, I must say.
Then, my father spoke, and like always, it was sweet and filled with sage advice.
Apparently Mom and I are both shoulder-leaners.
Then it was turn for the Maid of Honor and Best Man speeches. Laura went first, and wrote it all down because she knew she’d start crying if she didn’t.
She talked about the things she’s learned from me, one of which was “less is more.” I tend to go overboard, and she’s typically the one who pulls me back to earth. Her speech was sweet, funny, and yeah, we both cried.
Then JP’s Best Man, Joe, got up to give his speech.
Joe started telling stories, and JP kept interrupting him. I had to make him stop, cause that Joe guy is pretty dang funny.
He also told everybody about how I faked being bad at Guitar Hero to get “lessons” from JP. I am a sly one.
Finally, JP spoke, and began with challenging my bridesmaid June to a duel. Apparently, after we first met, June gave JP that plastic saber while we were out at a bar. You see, she was the first “JP” in my life, and had told JP she’d fight for me. And that he had to keep the plastic sword, which he did.
Then he went on to say some incredibly sweet things, and we all looked on adoringly.
After the toasts, everybody was laughing, hearts were warmed, and tummies were ready for food. However, first, a little mischief had to be made…
How did your rehearsal dinners start out? Did you go food first or toasts first? Sentimental or funny/roast-like toasts?
*All photographs by Matt Miller of Our Labor of Love.
Wednesday naps with her on-again off-again best friend, Herbert.
Today I made a Wednesday video. Pointless? Yeah, probably, but it was fun to do. Plus, everybody loves cat vids, right?
We last left off with me being late. And stressed.
While everybody waited on us to arrive, they apparently stood around in circles and wondered where in the heck we were.
Oh, and made silly faces.
We finally arrived…
… and my excessive ribbon bouquet (which will get its own post once I actually photograph it) was thrust into my hands.
Yes, I realize I look like a deranged cupcake. This is some preliminary evidence showing that I apparently am the worst bouquet holder ever. Despite reading about 40,000 tutorials about correct bouquet placement, I was always determined to hold it way too high. I don’t think I can count the number of times I was told to put the dang thing lower, but I never paid any attention.
Anyway, we then began to rehearse. And everybody watched the cupcake before she finally came to the front of the church for instructions.
We sat there and were good children who paid attention…
…or so it seemed. In reality, I was not “present” during our rehearsal. I was miserable, and truth be told, I can’t remember much of what went on. My eye was killing me, I was overly concerned about what everybody else thought about my one crying eye, and I was quiet and cranky. Halfway through the rehearsal, MOH Laura urged me to just take the dang things out, which I did. I was blind as a bat for the rest of the time, and my eye was still watering like crazy, but at least I wasn’t in as much pain. While we were wrapping up, I, for some unknown reason, felt the need to inform each person as to what was going on with my eye.
“I’m not crying. My eye is messed up. I think it’s either an allergy or a bad contact.”
“Oh, I was wondering what was going on. I thought ‘I had no idea that Lauren was that emotional!’”
At least people got the point that I wasn’t crying.
When we were all finished, I knew I needed to get home ASAP. This eye thing had to be handled, one way or another, and it was not going to affect the rest of the night. I was not going to ruin this any more, as I was disappointed that I’d let it get to me so much already and was embarrassed by my behavior.
While everybody else left for the restaurant, Laura and I scurried home. I obsessed for a good thirty minutes, had a few near-cry-meltdowns, and finally manned up. I got a fresh pair of contacts out, tossed the gimpy one, fixed my makeup for the thirtieth time, and finally, finally, FINALLY started behaving. Laura, wonder-worker that she is, calmed me down, got me on track, and got me out of the house.
I am happy to report that I behaved from then onward. I was happy bride, fun bride, and more importantly, myself.
What do you do when minor events get the best of you? How did you handle it (or plan to handle it!) during wedding-land?
*All photos taken by bridesmaid June, and subsequently jacked from her Facebook.
Recaps… GO!
The day before the wedding was, well, totally crazy. I was not relaxed, I was not a happy camper, and there were tons of little things that brought me to the brink of a bridal meltdown. That Friday was packed with entirely too many things. I should have been sitting on a lily pad being worshipped, but instead I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off.
Bright and early, I took off from LaGrange to our Atlanta apartment. Starting the day with a nice 1.25 hour drive. Good choice. I dropped off some stuff at the apartment, then walked in the heavy humidity to the nail place. In the blazing heat. While wearing jeans. (This was a poor decision. I don’t know what possessed me to put on jeans, but I digress.) I then received one of the most awful manicures and pedicures in the history of man. My nails looked like crap, my feet were a hot mess, and they ripped up the backs of my heels/ankles so that the next day my feet were too raw to wear the love flats past the ceremony. 75 bucks and another hour down. I crankily walked back to the apartment, happy to see that JP, his best man, and his brother were back at the apartment, complete with tuxedos. Happiness was interrupted by minor stress when I somehow jammed my toe under JP’s shoe while hugging. Screwed up the gummy polish, messed up our romantic hug. (This, ladies, is why you always bring your own nail polish to the nail place. So you can fix it later.) While I hastily packed up some random honeymoon clothes and walked in circles, the guys packed up wedding props, video game consoles, and all of their stuff.
Then? Emergency run to the dry cleaners. JP was having his rehearsal dinner clothes cleaned, and we almost forgot to get them. While waiting at the dry cleaners, a mini-crisis occurred. After being totally SOOL with transportation (details later), my father had finally found a solution: the Toyota dealership was going to lend us some cars. Sweet, but we didn’t have anybody to pick them up because the house was wide open, and if my parents left to get the cars, then there would be nobody to man the fort. That was a problem, and we needed to get back to LaGrange ASAP.
After pulling out of the dry cleaners, I realized that I needed gas. Great. Over to the gas station, where I pumped gas and the guys went inside to grab drinks and some snacks because none of us had eaten yet. Gas pumped, everybody loaded back up, and I went back into whine mode. I’d asked JP to grab me crackers and a Diet Coke, and he came back with Ritz crackers (and a Diet Coke.) I hate Ritz crackers, and went the irrational “How are we getting married tomorrow if you don’t even know what crackers I want?! I wanted the reduced fat sandwich crackers” route. Uh-huh. I went there. Poor behavior on my part, and poor JP for having an irrational bride that thought he should be a mind-reader.
By the time we got onto the highway, I had manned up and stopped pouting. Ate two crackers, played music really loudly, and drove the hour-point-five drive back to LaGrange. Made it back to the house, parked my car in the woods, and we unloaded. My maid of honor, Laura, was there within five minutes equipped with actual lunch for JP and me. I tried to run in circles some more, but Laura made us both sit down to eat. I felt like I was going to hurl from stress, but dutifully ate half of my cheeseburger and sucked down an entire Diet Coke. JP’s parents swung by to pick up the boys so that they could check into the hotel, Julie, our DOC, met my parents at the house so they could all convoy to pick up the cars for the next day, the florist was running in and out of the house getting arrangements set up, and then? Five minutes of silence. Laura and I were able to sit down for five minutes, and it was glorious.
Then we all realized we had no idea what time we had to be at the church for the rehearsal. I had made up some fake time in my notebook so that I wouldn’t be late, but we weren’t sure what the exact time was. Was it 5:30? 5:45? 6:00? 6:15? I still don’t remember. We had told the bridal party to get there at 5:45, but, well, that was way off. Now approaching an unknown critical time-point, Laura thrust me into the shower with a “Let me take care of it.” I was so grateful that she took the cat-herding lead. Mid-way through dressing, Matt Miller came to set up the Smilebooth, and of course I had to run downstairs to do a “I AM NOT SURE IF I LAID THIS OUT CORRECTLY” spiel. Laura herded me upstairs to finish dressing, and that is when all of the fun began.
Fun? What fun? With my makeup finished, I decided to go all snazzy and break out a new pair of contacts since my current pair were a little past-due. I wanted to be able to have crystal-clear peepers to be able to absorb all of the events to come. One contact in, relief. (There’s nothing like the feeling of a good, fresh, contact. Creepy? Yeah.) The second contact? “OW OMG OMG OW OW OW OW OW.” There was something wrong. It felt like I had daggers in my eye. JP and Laura ran in to see what was going on, and then tried to serve as my calm-down crew. I yanked the contact out of my eye and put it in some solution. My left eye was on FIRE and was bloodshot like crazy. Eye-makeup? Destroyed. I looked like a one-sided weepy mess.
“Just wear glasses!” they said. I was having none of that.
“NO! I cannot wear giant glasses with this cupcake dress and go to church and go to dinner and have pictures taken? Inconceivable!”
“You look fine. Swear.”
“I don’t want to look fine.”
“You know what we mean.”
“I’m still not wearing glasses.”
Somehow I managed to repair my eye makeup, decide I was allergic to something, clean the contact, and try to convince myself it was okay. With one teary and blood-shot eye and forty wads of paper towels for blotting, I threw on my dress and we all left for the church.
At 6:20.
Do you (or did you) have a packed day-before-the-wedding? To those already married, what crises did you field, and how did you handle them? With grace, or with whining? (Clearly I fall not into the grace category. Nice.) Learn from my mistakes– take a break the day before.
