Monday, August 10, 2009

Dum, dum, da dum

I don't think I'm going to even try to attempt to boil my wedding day (Aka the best, if not happiest day of my life) into one single blog post. That somehow seems disrespectful of the moment.

Then again, we'll see how this goes.

Fortunately, and amazingly, I slept well the night before my wedding. Well, I should say I fell asleep fine, thank a week of getting up early and two glasses of wine for that, but I woke up around 7 a.m., and well, once you're awake and there's sunlight on your wedding day, you're awake for good.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately (I have yet to decide) I didn't have anything to actually DO until 11 a.m. but be held hostage in my hotel room. Jeff and I had sort of an unspoken feeling about staying apart the day of our wedding, and I do agree it makes it that much more special. I must say I cheated a bit by calling him twice as well as peering at him through windows at various points of the day, but I digress.

I had a brief moment of pause when I called him in the morning to track down the facewash I'd left in his room, and he didn't answer. I sent my mom over to the room, and he wasn't there. I called again and our friend Mike (aka Grimey -- but not in how you're thinking) answered the phone because he had crashed in Jeff's room the night before and said he wasn't there. I thought, for maybe half a second, he'd bailed on me. No, of course he hadn't... he had been getting his golf clubs out of the back of my car, but what girl isn't scarred for life after the Sex and the City movie? When he finally did call me back, his voice was still gone. 

Anyways, I was stuck in my hotel room until 10 a.m. -- when the boys were leaving our small hotel (I should mention that right? Our hotel had just nine rooms, hence increasing the liklihood that we would run into each other) to go play golf on what was, if you can remember back to two Saturdays ago, an absolutely beautiful day. I commissioned my mother to go downstairs to get me a bagel (they kept telling me, a girl's gotta eat on her wedding day!) and sort of wallowed for a few hours until sneaking down to Katie's room on the first floor. Down there Katie showed me the 400 pictures her boyfriend Ben had taken of our rehearsal and we spotted Jeff and his guys outside the window in what can only liberally be called golf gear. 

Finally, around 10:30 they left, and I was free to roam around. The plan was for the girls to meet around 11 a.m., go to a sandwich shop near our hair salon, have a leisurely lunch before going to our hair appointment at 1. Sounds like plenty of time, right? Wrong. Silly me.

First issue was that I had actually apparently told everyone 11:30 in my e-mail. Whoops. And then when we got to the sandwich shop, it took. forever. Seriously, 30 minutes to make 7 wraps. From there I cut Katie's lunch short to have her traipse around Bristol for some contact solution as my brand new contacts were making me cry. I was having visions of being on the beach and sand flowing into my contact and... ouch. Katie, the world's greatest maid of honor said "No problem" and was off. Meanwhile I ran ahead to the salon because I knew the bride needed to get beautified and was STRESSED about time.

When we got to the salon they started me right away in the makeup chair. Now let me say, clearly, I never wear makeup. And I made it very clear to the makeup artist that I still wanted to look like me, but a glam me. And boy did she deliver. If it were just me in the chair staring at my face, I probably would have thought there was a touch too much foundation, but having 6 other women telling you how awesome you look sort of takes that doubt away. The hair was the cherry on the sundae -- I was very happy with the way it turned out -- even if it did put us another 15 minutes behind schedule and facing even more traffic back to Newport. 

What do you think?
Before makeup/hair
During

After

I raced back to Newport (yes I was driving) because our photographer had already arrived at the hotel and I don't do well with being late. Again, again, again it was totally fine. By the time I got back to the hotel, not only was the photographer there, but the flowers had arrived and all the girls-- who I had sent back from the salon -- were ready. 

And before I knew it, it was time to get into the dress. 

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