I have no business blogging right now. I should be showering and getting ready to leave the house for a day of errands. I have a to-do list a mile long. Many thanks to those of you who’ve offered to help, I wish I had things I could delegate to you. But I can’t really send someone else to pick up my sister’s gift, or my nude thigh-highs from Victoria’s Secret.
So here I am blogging, but it helps clear out the clutter in my head. And it’s just now occurring to me that we will be computer-less for a whole week while we are on our honeymoon. I might die.
The “wedding dreams” are starting up again.
Last night I had a dream that I was in my wedding dress sitting on our floor eating Taco Bell like an hour before the wedding was supposed to start. Jerrad was telling me to hurry up and go get ready. I went into the bathroom and my hair was a mess. It looked like it had been styled, but like 3 days ago. Then I notice I am not wearing my dress, but the ugliest dress ever made. It had big poufy 80′s sleeves and lacy glitter everywhere, and was way too big. My make-up was all 80′s too – I had bright blue eyeshadow, red lips, the works. Jerrad comes into the bathroom to rush me again, and I look at him and say, “Wait we don’t have to go anywhere. This is a dream!”
“What are you talking about? Hurry up, we’re going to be late.”
“No, really – this is a dream.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because it’s not Saturday yet. Umm, and look at me.”
“Thank God, because that is the ugliest dress I’ve ever seen and you look like shit.”
Then I woke up. The only thing good about that dream was the Taco Bell.
Today I pick up my dress from the seamstress and then it goes straight over to my mom’s house. I don’t want it to get all furred up with dog and cat hair. And I don’t really want Jerrad to see the dress until I’m walking down the aisle.
He pretty much already knows what my hair is going to look like because he saw me last Saturday when I got back from my hair appointment. He also knows that I’m wearing a tiara.
Don’t look at me like that. It’s my wedding day and I am wearing a tiara.
Actually, I had to be talked into the tiara. I’m not wearing a veil, and I knew I wanted my hair mostly down. I bought a couple different things to see what would work best – barrettes, combs. My mom was with me when I was shopping and suggested the tiara. Then when I got home and was showing Jerrad everything, he said,
“You know you’re going to wear the tiara.”
“No, I’m not. I just got it because mom was there.”
“You’re going to wear it.”
“I am not. Shut up.”
Then when I got back from my hair appointment:
“So I am wearing the tiara.”
“I know.”
Really, how often can a girl get away with wearing a tiara?
I have my something old – my grandma’s engagement ring; my something new – a necklace from my mom; my something borrowed – earrings from a friend; and something blue – garter of course. I was so excited to find a navy blue garter instead of light blue. I don’t know why.
What else did I want to say? I feel like I’m forgetting something. That feeling probably won’t go away until we leave for the honeymoon.
I really should go get in the shower. Like, seriously. I haven’t showered since, umm, Saturday maybe? Vacation rocks! I think Jerrad is worried this is a preview of what life will be like when I’m a stay-at-home mom. Stinky wife, dishes piled in the sink…
