I might as well tell you that all you're going to get around these parts for the next week or so is wedding-related stuff, and I'm sorry for that, but at least you've been warned. Because my wedding is in eight---count 'em, eight---days, Internet, and if you're thinking "boy, time sure has flown," rest assured that I am thinking it too. Oh wait, did I say thinking? I meant HOWLING.
Actually, you know, I'm not really that stressed. I think I sort of figure hey, the wedding's going to happen when it happens, nothing I can do to slow the time down a little so I can hand-stamp 100 more cocktail napkins, might as well enjoy these last few days of wedding planning while I can. If there's one thing I live in constant fear of, you see, it's regret, and I don't want to regret that I spent these last few days leading up to the big day in a frenzied state of OH MY GOD I'M FREAKING OUT I'M FREAKING OUT THERE'S SO MUCH TO DO I'M GOING TO DIE. That doesn't sound very fun, now, does it? So instead, I'm trying my best to breathe in, breathe out, make lists, go with the flow, and figure that everything will work itself out just fine in time for the day itself.
(If you are a member of my immediate family, you are most likely rolling about on the floor right now in mirth. Hear that incredulous laughter all the way from Singapore? That's my brother Tom. I have many distinctive character traits, you see, but "going with the flow" could never, ever be said to be one of them. I believe "running around like a neurotic badger" would be closer to the truth. Still, I'm trying, so that counts.)
And now, some things before I forget:
1) Thank you all so much for your suggestions on what Sean and I should do in Australia. I was absolutely flabbergasted by how many people came out of the woodwork with recommendations and ideas, and I plan to go through the comments with a fine-tooth comb on the plane and hash out some type of itinerary based solely on The Wisdom of the Internet. Oh, you a wonderful and well-traveled bunch. Thank you again so much.
2) My sister and my mother were researching places near my parents' house for the three of us to get mani-pedis before the wedding. On their travels, they came across one they really liked the look of, and its name was Nails 2 U. Now I ask you, does "Nails 2 U" not sound like a particuarly scathing insult? "Damnit, you took the last parking space! Nails to YOU, buddy!" "Oh, you're going to jam your enormous carry-on into the space above my seat so I can't store my own bag up there? Well, nails to YOU, pal!" I highly recommend using "nails to you!" in situations where "GOOD DAY, SIR!" and "Sucks to your ass-mar" just won't do. Why, I've been using it all weekend. Nails to YOU, lady who wouldn't accept my 40% off coupon at Michael's! NAILS TO YOU.
4) My favorite email of the last week, which has gone a long way to keeping me as calm as I am claiming to be above, came from my good pal Jemima. She wrote:
"If you start to get stressed, remember that everyone will be there (and you presumably invited them) because they love you. They are not going to give you a bad wedding rating with the New York Times because the lanterns don't flutter up and down instead of to and fro. If a freaking hurricane blows in and dinner burns, but you and Sean are husband and wife by Sunday morning, the whole event will still be a success. You and Sean are the important part, just remember that."
And then, because she is my good pal Jemima and because we've been joking about her "accidentally" wearing a big white dress and a mini veil to the wedding and then acting all surprised, she followed it up with "Incidentally, how are you doing your hair, by the way? I need to know, so I can have my stylist do the same thing but BETTER!"
3) We picked up my wedding ring yesterday, which was very exciting, and I came home and tried it on with my engagement ring. And while I know that's bad luck, I just couldn't resist, because they both looked so sparkly together and it was like my left hand was suddenly starring in its very own P. Diddy music video, so I kept it on for just a few minutes while I typed a Twitter entry that read:
And then I kid you not, three minutes later my inbox dinged and I opened my email to discover this:
Would you look at that, I've been cursed by Twitter! Man, I guess the Internet really does make all things possible.