So we're officially about 50 days from the wedding and so far things had gone pretty smoothly. Ok, so the wedding diet isn't going as well as it should be, I nearly lost my engagement ring and my sisters bridesmaid dress was temporarily lost somewhere in Asia. But overall, things are AOK. We set out to send our wedding invitations and in the spirit of saving money had them printed by a friend of ours (thanks Michele!). Over the course of two nights we left work early (6:30) and sprinted towards the dining room table, aka invitation central. While I addressed in my calligraphy pen, the boy stuffed the invitations. We started loading all 50 of them into envelopes and got ready to seal them. Wanting to add a little something extra to them we opted to seal them with some maroon wax.
For the last 10 months I've been thinking and planning and tracking and shopping for this blessed event all the while managing to go uninjured, unless you count the 99 sale at Davids Bridal. The boys idea od wedding planning is venturing to Home Depot.
On this one evening, when he finally contributed to the wedding outside of the proposal, while literally playing with fire, he managed to burn himself with the hot wax as he was dripping it on the envelopes.
Now if you've ever gotten married or planned a wedding you know that the whole thing will leave you with scars. They range from the debt of the catering bill, the blisters from unforgiving wedding shoes or the blindingly brutal work outs to fit into that Oleg Cassini gown. But when, when, does one have a story about injuring himself while doing the invitations?
Those Grooms.....they'll do almost anything for attention. :)
PS-it may seem as tho I've thrown my wonderful groom under the bus but he's been very helpful with planning. That said, he will likely retaliate with an equally as biting blog. Stay tuned for a guest entry :)
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The Rings Big Adventure
A couple of days ago I was thinking about blogging about the extinction of customer service and my declining faith in the human race. At its best the city has started to turn its cynical head in my direction leaving me at a loss for my "happy-go-lucky-people-are-basically-good" attitude of days gone by. Recent experiences with retail stores, restaurants and even work have left a bitter taste in my mouth. I missed the good natured people of my home town. Until last friday.
The boy, the ring and our dear friends set off to Queens to cheat on our beloved Yankees. A quick game at Shea and we set off on back towards Manhattan. A natural fidgeter, I've been known to actually twiddle my thumbs, drum my fingers and twirl the rings on my fingers. Standing at the edge of the raised subway platform neat the exit of Shea, I anxiously awaited the 7 train back to the city and found myself mindlessly playing with my beloved engagement ring. I held my breath as it fell off of my finger onto the subway platform. Thinking I was in the clear it bounced off of the rubber plane near the edge of the platform and tumbled two stories down to the street below with drunken mets fans and crazy cabbies. Time stopped.
I ran to find my unsuspecting fiance and broke the news. Starting to sob I ran down to the street and began searching, praying and thinking about my empty finger and the money the boy had spent on it the ring that once sat on it. I cried some more. A NYC cop blew his whistle and angrily yelled for the boy and I to vacate the busy streets until we started to describe what had happened. He pulled the boy off to start looking and yelled for me to stay put. A kind older woman asked what was wrong. A young man asked if I was ok. A few people were searching the ground wondering what we were looking for. It seemed like hours until we started to slow down the search for my beloved missing ring. I began to fill out a police report. It seemed the ring was gone, destroyed or plucked up by someone who may be nice enough to return it to the police. A woman approached us and asked me what I had lost. My ring-I said barely audible. Describe it she said. And I did. Moments later she held up her hand with my beautiful ring sitting on her pinky!!!!I cannot describe how wonderfully happy I was. I hugged her like she was my mom, didn't let her go and thanked her profusely. The boy arrived and also wouldn't let her out of his hug. We asked what we could do for her-money, flowers, a gift. She said her daughter was getting married in November and she felt so bad for us-she knew someone was missing it and would be devastated to have lost it. She asked us to just be happy together and to appreciate each other. A car arrived moments later and picked her up. Her husband congratulated us and wished us luck. In the back seat of the car was the woman who had first asked me what I had lost. Strange the way things work out.
With new found faith in the city of queens and the good people of NY the boy and I set off for home. There was someone watching out for us....someone who knows that people are basically good.
The boy, the ring and our dear friends set off to Queens to cheat on our beloved Yankees. A quick game at Shea and we set off on back towards Manhattan. A natural fidgeter, I've been known to actually twiddle my thumbs, drum my fingers and twirl the rings on my fingers. Standing at the edge of the raised subway platform neat the exit of Shea, I anxiously awaited the 7 train back to the city and found myself mindlessly playing with my beloved engagement ring. I held my breath as it fell off of my finger onto the subway platform. Thinking I was in the clear it bounced off of the rubber plane near the edge of the platform and tumbled two stories down to the street below with drunken mets fans and crazy cabbies. Time stopped.
I ran to find my unsuspecting fiance and broke the news. Starting to sob I ran down to the street and began searching, praying and thinking about my empty finger and the money the boy had spent on it the ring that once sat on it. I cried some more. A NYC cop blew his whistle and angrily yelled for the boy and I to vacate the busy streets until we started to describe what had happened. He pulled the boy off to start looking and yelled for me to stay put. A kind older woman asked what was wrong. A young man asked if I was ok. A few people were searching the ground wondering what we were looking for. It seemed like hours until we started to slow down the search for my beloved missing ring. I began to fill out a police report. It seemed the ring was gone, destroyed or plucked up by someone who may be nice enough to return it to the police. A woman approached us and asked me what I had lost. My ring-I said barely audible. Describe it she said. And I did. Moments later she held up her hand with my beautiful ring sitting on her pinky!!!!I cannot describe how wonderfully happy I was. I hugged her like she was my mom, didn't let her go and thanked her profusely. The boy arrived and also wouldn't let her out of his hug. We asked what we could do for her-money, flowers, a gift. She said her daughter was getting married in November and she felt so bad for us-she knew someone was missing it and would be devastated to have lost it. She asked us to just be happy together and to appreciate each other. A car arrived moments later and picked her up. Her husband congratulated us and wished us luck. In the back seat of the car was the woman who had first asked me what I had lost. Strange the way things work out.
With new found faith in the city of queens and the good people of NY the boy and I set off for home. There was someone watching out for us....someone who knows that people are basically good.
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