So I have considered writing a post about my wedding numerous times. I have a lot to say. I am not necessarily avoiding it. I just need a few more days to really wrap my head around the whole eperience. So, until then I have decided to simply recount a funny experience from our honeymoon adventure to the Bahamas.
Note: If you ever have three S's on the bottom right hand corner of your plane ticket, it means the airline safety folks have randomly chosen you to be extensively searched and patted down while going through security. This is vital information for my story.
On the way to the Bahamas, Cody and I flew out of XNA the following Sunday after our wedding. Every time I go through security at an airport post 9-11 I feel like I am in some sort of race. Get my shoes off (pray that you remembered to wear socks). Get out all electronics. Place them in a bin. I need a bin! Make sure all of your liquids, gels, etc. are no larger than 2.5 oz. Place them in plastic bag...you get the picture. It stresses me out. On this day, I happened to forget to take my Vera Bradley credit card holder out of my back pocket. I walked through the metal detector and was asked to "step to the side." Then a woman radioed to someone that she needed a "female assist" at terminal 2. When the "female assist" arrived, the other female told her I had "bolted." What the heck? I tried to explain that I left my coin purse in my pocket on accident, but that didn't fly (pun intended). I was patted down and gawked at by fellow travelers. I was looked at judgingly by the TSA employee and Cody didn't let me live it down for the rest of the trip....No, that is not the funny part of this story. Hang in there.
On our way back from the Bahamas, we again were forced to go through security. It seemed to be a little more strict. I assume because we were trying to get back into the U.S. Nonetheless, at 4:45a.m. we found ourselves being shuffled through the Bahamian airport with me much more cognizant of the security rules since my recent problem with "bolting" at XNA. We got to the security line and I made sure to get everything out of my pockets. My gels and liquids were all neatly tucked in my Ziploc baggie. My ducks were in a serious row. I did however forget to wear socks which kind of grossed me out. I was reprimanded by the worker at the metal detector who sternly told me to walk flat footed as I was trying to tip toe through the process so as to avoid whatever foreign filth that may be on the floor of the Nassau airport. Beyond that little mishap, I thought I really performed well. The detector did not ding and I assumed I was on my way to freedom when I was again asked to step to the side. What do you mean? I don't have anything in my pockets. My gels were correctly zipped. My electronics were all neatly placed in my bin. What did I do wrong???
My bags were immediately checked by some young man. He did a rather haphazard job of searching and told me that I had been singled out because of the "SSS" on the bottom of my ticket. He explained the random selection which made me feel a little better. However, my bare feet were still touching the floor and my security mishap wasn't close to over. A female attendant proceded to pat me down. I had to lift up my feet. I had to have my hands and feet swabbed with some sort of device that I assume checked for bomb residue (who makes bombs with their feet by the way?) I was groped and embarrassed and again gawked at by fellow travelers, including Cody. He loved it. Two out of two times on this honeymoon I was a potential terrorist. Real funny. Still not to the funnny part...stick with me.
We get through immigration. All is well. We start to board the plane and are walking toward the gate. Cody and I are among the first few to reach the wing (pun not intended) of the airport where our flight would depart. As we turn to walk to line up at the gate (keep in mind this it the Bahamas, so the airport was a little shady), a man is asked to step to one side and I am asked to step to the other. Cody also lines up behind me assuming all of us need to stop to have our bag reexamined yet again. No, no, no. Only myself and one other lucky traveler are apparently in store for the bag inspection of the century. Seriously, what is going on?
Cody walks on to the gate which is maybe another 20 feet down this wing. All of the other passengers also walk past the two lucky bag inspection winners. Here comes the sticky part...
As part of a gag gift before my wedding, some friends of mine put together a little gift bag of weird, humorous sex stuff. It included a pleasure pack of flavored condoms, some weird pills (I won't go into details), pain relievers, lubricants, things of that nature. Because I am not particularly familiar with sex and all that it entails, I had thrown a few of these items in my carry on luggage after our wedding. I only kept the logical items (condoms, lubricants, weird pills) because who wants to be caught on their homeymoon without all the right tools. Luckily, all of those tools were in the bags that were going to be checked in front of about 50 passengers headed to Miami...Goodness.
I get pulled to the side. The airport worker asks me to lay my bag flat on the table. Cody had walked to the gate and was turned around staring at me laughing like a crazy person. Others are again looking at me like I am part of a bad car wreck. The airport lady opens the first pocket and all is well. There is a book and passports. Very logical items for a traveler. I realize at this point that I am screwed. I knew that the condoms that the first inspector looked over were going to be discovered. I stood in complete terror. I was suddenly 13 years old trying to hide cigarettes in my backpack (note: I never smoked cigarettes when I was 13). There were women and small children passing by. And this woman was not just looking. She really took her job seriously. She opened the next pocket to find a box of condoms. Instead of steering from this awkward item like any normal person would do, she decided to take all 12 of the assorted flavored condoms out of the box and onto the stage for all to see. The condoms were followed by some lubricants, weird pills, and even some lingere from the trip. After about the third time she looked at me like I was the biggest freak in the world, I offered up that I was on my honeymoon. I thought maybe it would soften the blow of my suitcase of tricks. She continued to search straight-faced and serious. She covered every nook and cranny and displayed it for all the world to see. I was red. I was ashamed. I wanted to crawl into a shell and die. Cody all the time is almost rolling in the line to get on the plane. I am mortified.
She eventually finds my ticket in my hand. She looks at the bottom three S's and informed me that even if I wasn't the first one to walk down the ramp, she still would have searched my bag because I was inflicted with the scarlet letters. I told her those S's have really made for some inconveniences for me. I said they must stand for security, security, security (I am really trying to make nice with this stone cold TSA employee). As she zips my final pocket closed, she looks up from my bag o' sex to say with a sly smile that for me, the S's stand for "sex, sex, sex." Burn.
The Bahamians had the last laugh. I relayed this story to Cody and we couldn't help but laugh hysterically. It was a very fitting end to a honeymoon that we will always remember. We had a lot of fun and enjoyed a much deserved break. There was beach lounging and good food. There was dancing and relaxing. There was a week of goodness for two young people in love. And let's be honest, what else should the S's stand for on your honeymoon?
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Stages of Engagement
Since I am one week away from being a married person, I feel as if I have kind of run the engagement marathon. I have been engaged for a little more than seven months now. I have learned along this journey that there are stages of being engaged and for all of you folks who have not been engaged, here's a little summary of what to experience if you ever find yourself a fiancee...
1. "LET ME SEE YOUR RING!!!" Early on in this process, news slowly spread about Cody and me being engaged. Suddenly I found myself everywhere I went with my left hand out in front of me with someone remarking on how pretty they thought my ring was. I was often told "He did good," in reference to my ring. Everyone loved it. At the beginning of this stage, I didn't think much of this. However, after about a month of dangling my hand for all the world to see, it started to get a little old. I had told an abridged version of our engagement way too many times to count, and I also recognized that not everyone was so enthralled with my ring as they pretended to be. And I know from personal experience some folks immediately walked away with their friend or boyfriend and immediately began analyzing what they didn't like about my ring. Either way, this stage was cool for about five minutes. Luckily, I still have the ring and I like it whether you do or not.
2. "What are your colors?" About three seconds after I found myself engaged to be married questions started coming at me from every direction about every tiny detail of my wedding. What are your colors? How many bridesmaids? Who are they? Where's the reception? Have you gotten your dress? Who's your photographer? Who's your florist? (Oh, she's great). Where's the honeymoon? Where are you going to live? Are you living with him now?...There was an absolute plethora of questions to be answered about my wedding. Generally, I didn't know the answers and only had to respond with "I don't know." And often times I was a little taken aback by some of the questions that people asked that didn't really have anything to do with the wedding. The things about my life with Cody that you wouldn't ever ask anyone unless they were getting married (like do you already live with him?) It was weird. I even had one person give me a book about how to have sex. Uhhhhh...that's not normal and it's also awkward to an exponential degree. I often times equated this process to being pregnant. For some reason when people are obviously pregnant others throw out any sort of courtesy for that pregnant woman. Without blinking their hands on our her stomach as if that is a normal thing to do to someone. Being engaged is like giving people a reason to ask you every question they could ever think about your personal life. Weird.
3. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I have been asked this question a hundred times here recently. Don't get me wrong. I like knowing that people want to help me. The bad part is that I'm not one of those people who delegates anything very well, so I have turned down offers to help numerous times. I don't know how to tell people to do anything for my wedding because it's MY wedding. You don't know what I like. I'm extrememly picky and generally not even my own mother can do it right, so I have stopped considering letting most people help me. Apparently I want to run this race by myself whether that's a good idea or not.
4. "Are you ready?" This has been the most recent stage of the engagement process. Once you are only weeks away from being married, you start having people ask you if you're nervous or more often "ready" to be married. I just smile and nod when on the inside I wonder what they are asking me about. Are they asking if all of the wedding details are in order? If so, the answer is probably no. For the past few weeks I have been running around like a crazy person trying to ensure the fewest number of things possible blow up on June 19th. Are they asking if I am ready to be married to Cody? To actually live with him and share my life with him now and forever...Surprisingly, I think this would be the easiest question to answer with a yes. I am ready to be married. I don't worry about this being the right thing. I worry about the logistics of the food stations at our reception. I don't worry about whether or not we are going to be happy together, I worry about the angle at which the lights are going to hit the dance floor. I don't worry about whether or not Cody and I are making the right decision by getting married. I worry about all of the ridiculous planning that has gone into this one day in our life.
However, I think this is how it's supposed to be. I figured out the other day that they only thing that has kept me relatively sane throughout this process is Cody. I have been running through a really dark, scary tunnel of wedding planning for seven months now. I have cried and second guessed myself and given up and gotten mad and wanted to do anything other than have this wedding. I have been literally exhausted over June 19, 2010. But every time I lifted my eyes to glance at the end of this wedding tunnel, I have seen Cody holding a cup of water and a towel and naturally the first place trophy that I will win for placing first in this wedding marathon, and I have found a reason to keep going. I have started viewing all that is a wedding as the final obstacle in my relationship with Cody. It's God's way of testing you one more time to see if you are really meant to be with one another. The closer I get to June 19th, the closer I get to Cody. And that is the reason I have endured the hand raping, the extensive interrogations, endless planning, and all that is the stress of marriage. I want the prize at the end of this race more than I have wanted any prize before. And if that means I wear a big white dress and walk down an aisle and let everyone in on the personal details of my life, then so be it. I have never been one to quit a race.
1. "LET ME SEE YOUR RING!!!" Early on in this process, news slowly spread about Cody and me being engaged. Suddenly I found myself everywhere I went with my left hand out in front of me with someone remarking on how pretty they thought my ring was. I was often told "He did good," in reference to my ring. Everyone loved it. At the beginning of this stage, I didn't think much of this. However, after about a month of dangling my hand for all the world to see, it started to get a little old. I had told an abridged version of our engagement way too many times to count, and I also recognized that not everyone was so enthralled with my ring as they pretended to be. And I know from personal experience some folks immediately walked away with their friend or boyfriend and immediately began analyzing what they didn't like about my ring. Either way, this stage was cool for about five minutes. Luckily, I still have the ring and I like it whether you do or not.
2. "What are your colors?" About three seconds after I found myself engaged to be married questions started coming at me from every direction about every tiny detail of my wedding. What are your colors? How many bridesmaids? Who are they? Where's the reception? Have you gotten your dress? Who's your photographer? Who's your florist? (Oh, she's great). Where's the honeymoon? Where are you going to live? Are you living with him now?...There was an absolute plethora of questions to be answered about my wedding. Generally, I didn't know the answers and only had to respond with "I don't know." And often times I was a little taken aback by some of the questions that people asked that didn't really have anything to do with the wedding. The things about my life with Cody that you wouldn't ever ask anyone unless they were getting married (like do you already live with him?) It was weird. I even had one person give me a book about how to have sex. Uhhhhh...that's not normal and it's also awkward to an exponential degree. I often times equated this process to being pregnant. For some reason when people are obviously pregnant others throw out any sort of courtesy for that pregnant woman. Without blinking their hands on our her stomach as if that is a normal thing to do to someone. Being engaged is like giving people a reason to ask you every question they could ever think about your personal life. Weird.
3. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I have been asked this question a hundred times here recently. Don't get me wrong. I like knowing that people want to help me. The bad part is that I'm not one of those people who delegates anything very well, so I have turned down offers to help numerous times. I don't know how to tell people to do anything for my wedding because it's MY wedding. You don't know what I like. I'm extrememly picky and generally not even my own mother can do it right, so I have stopped considering letting most people help me. Apparently I want to run this race by myself whether that's a good idea or not.
4. "Are you ready?" This has been the most recent stage of the engagement process. Once you are only weeks away from being married, you start having people ask you if you're nervous or more often "ready" to be married. I just smile and nod when on the inside I wonder what they are asking me about. Are they asking if all of the wedding details are in order? If so, the answer is probably no. For the past few weeks I have been running around like a crazy person trying to ensure the fewest number of things possible blow up on June 19th. Are they asking if I am ready to be married to Cody? To actually live with him and share my life with him now and forever...Surprisingly, I think this would be the easiest question to answer with a yes. I am ready to be married. I don't worry about this being the right thing. I worry about the logistics of the food stations at our reception. I don't worry about whether or not we are going to be happy together, I worry about the angle at which the lights are going to hit the dance floor. I don't worry about whether or not Cody and I are making the right decision by getting married. I worry about all of the ridiculous planning that has gone into this one day in our life.
However, I think this is how it's supposed to be. I figured out the other day that they only thing that has kept me relatively sane throughout this process is Cody. I have been running through a really dark, scary tunnel of wedding planning for seven months now. I have cried and second guessed myself and given up and gotten mad and wanted to do anything other than have this wedding. I have been literally exhausted over June 19, 2010. But every time I lifted my eyes to glance at the end of this wedding tunnel, I have seen Cody holding a cup of water and a towel and naturally the first place trophy that I will win for placing first in this wedding marathon, and I have found a reason to keep going. I have started viewing all that is a wedding as the final obstacle in my relationship with Cody. It's God's way of testing you one more time to see if you are really meant to be with one another. The closer I get to June 19th, the closer I get to Cody. And that is the reason I have endured the hand raping, the extensive interrogations, endless planning, and all that is the stress of marriage. I want the prize at the end of this race more than I have wanted any prize before. And if that means I wear a big white dress and walk down an aisle and let everyone in on the personal details of my life, then so be it. I have never been one to quit a race.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Things that make me nervous about my wedding day...
Recently I have found myself somewhat overwhelmed by this whole wedding idea. And by somewhat, I mean terribly, utterly, frozen in fear, heart pounding, I don't think I want to do this anymore, overwhelmed. I have logically tried to analyze these feelings seeing as I am set to be married in about 2 weeks. I feel like I need to understand these reactions so I can maybe work to understand them and control them on June 19th. Here's what I've come up with...
I am not a nervous type of person. I would go so far as to tell you that when I have been plagued with nerves in past situations I manage to overcome these emotions by reminding myself that I am better than anyone else doing the same things so they will be the ones who look like idiots. For example, I understand that I have performed in front of a lot more people than will be at my wedding. The difference is that in the past I have generally been doing something. Showcasing some type of talent. And correctly or not, I have always had a fair amount of confidence in my skills. The problem with getting married is that it takes no talent. Anyone can walk down an aisle and hold a bouquet and say "I do." You don't have to compete to get a chance to do this (well, I guess you do if you consider the dating game a competition but that's a whole other post). You just show up. You buy the white dress. You throw a bouquet together with some fake flowers that were half off at Hobby Lobby and you strut down that aisle like you own the place.
Now, I will not be holding fake flowers and I will not strut (okay, I may strut a little), but I will be walking the same way any other woman who has ever gotten married has walked. There's no talent. There are no points to be scored. There is not a Wins-Losses record for marriages. It's frustrating. I feel like all that is left when you are performing a performance that takes no skills is for people to stare at you and judge you solely based on how you look. I've never been a big fan of this. Was I the hottest chick on the court? Probably not. But I bet I could have beaten the hottest chick on the court in a number of athletic competitions that include, but are not limited to: H-O-R-S-E, wrestling, ping pong, any sort of catching game, reading exercises, a spelling bee, shoe tying, dog whispering, free throw contests, etc. (I could go on forever. Let's be honest). Where are my games on June 19th?
I need some sort of skill beyond looking pretty to be showcased on my wedding day. I don't know how to look pretty. I do not spend hours of my free time trying to get prettier than I was the day before. I don't understand this skill. I have sort of decided that the skills I will have to focus on are things that I am simply not very comfortable with: grace, femininity, being emotionally vulnerable. Those three things alone make me a little nauseous (is that how you spell nauseous? I may need to revoke my spelling bee skills from the aforementioned list. Is that how you spell aforementioned? Ahhh!). Sorry. I digress.
After all of these thought processes, I have come to this conclusion. The skills that are being showcased on your wedding day are simply different than what I am used to. A dashing groom who seems comfortable with displaying his love for you equals an above 75% free throw percentage. A dress that makes you look prettier than you really are equals a flawless hitting approach and court awareness. An aura of genuine emotion and seemingly honest happiness equals a game winning shot from just in front of the half court line. I am just going to have to be okay with these being the things that I have to focus on instead of any type of real skill.
However, I would like to think that even in the tightest of situations and most unfavorable circumstances, I tend to come through in the end. I once had a coach tell me that I was very much a "game player." Looking back on that phrase, I realize now he was trying to tell me that I was somewhat lazy in my preparation for competition and instead only wanted to shine when the lights turned on in a gym packed with people who only wanted to see me and no one else play something. Maybe this was a little bit true. Maybe I did eat up the spotlight. Maybe June 19th will be more fulfilling than I would have ever predicted because there will be no other bride. There will be no one competing against me. The spotlight will turn on at 6p.m. to reveal me and only me standing in the run out tunnel with fog spilling out around me (Why did I not consider getting a fog machine until just now?) Maybe I will like this...Maybe.
Note to self...get a fog machine.
I am not a nervous type of person. I would go so far as to tell you that when I have been plagued with nerves in past situations I manage to overcome these emotions by reminding myself that I am better than anyone else doing the same things so they will be the ones who look like idiots. For example, I understand that I have performed in front of a lot more people than will be at my wedding. The difference is that in the past I have generally been doing something. Showcasing some type of talent. And correctly or not, I have always had a fair amount of confidence in my skills. The problem with getting married is that it takes no talent. Anyone can walk down an aisle and hold a bouquet and say "I do." You don't have to compete to get a chance to do this (well, I guess you do if you consider the dating game a competition but that's a whole other post). You just show up. You buy the white dress. You throw a bouquet together with some fake flowers that were half off at Hobby Lobby and you strut down that aisle like you own the place.
Now, I will not be holding fake flowers and I will not strut (okay, I may strut a little), but I will be walking the same way any other woman who has ever gotten married has walked. There's no talent. There are no points to be scored. There is not a Wins-Losses record for marriages. It's frustrating. I feel like all that is left when you are performing a performance that takes no skills is for people to stare at you and judge you solely based on how you look. I've never been a big fan of this. Was I the hottest chick on the court? Probably not. But I bet I could have beaten the hottest chick on the court in a number of athletic competitions that include, but are not limited to: H-O-R-S-E, wrestling, ping pong, any sort of catching game, reading exercises, a spelling bee, shoe tying, dog whispering, free throw contests, etc. (I could go on forever. Let's be honest). Where are my games on June 19th?
I need some sort of skill beyond looking pretty to be showcased on my wedding day. I don't know how to look pretty. I do not spend hours of my free time trying to get prettier than I was the day before. I don't understand this skill. I have sort of decided that the skills I will have to focus on are things that I am simply not very comfortable with: grace, femininity, being emotionally vulnerable. Those three things alone make me a little nauseous (is that how you spell nauseous? I may need to revoke my spelling bee skills from the aforementioned list. Is that how you spell aforementioned? Ahhh!). Sorry. I digress.
After all of these thought processes, I have come to this conclusion. The skills that are being showcased on your wedding day are simply different than what I am used to. A dashing groom who seems comfortable with displaying his love for you equals an above 75% free throw percentage. A dress that makes you look prettier than you really are equals a flawless hitting approach and court awareness. An aura of genuine emotion and seemingly honest happiness equals a game winning shot from just in front of the half court line. I am just going to have to be okay with these being the things that I have to focus on instead of any type of real skill.
However, I would like to think that even in the tightest of situations and most unfavorable circumstances, I tend to come through in the end. I once had a coach tell me that I was very much a "game player." Looking back on that phrase, I realize now he was trying to tell me that I was somewhat lazy in my preparation for competition and instead only wanted to shine when the lights turned on in a gym packed with people who only wanted to see me and no one else play something. Maybe this was a little bit true. Maybe I did eat up the spotlight. Maybe June 19th will be more fulfilling than I would have ever predicted because there will be no other bride. There will be no one competing against me. The spotlight will turn on at 6p.m. to reveal me and only me standing in the run out tunnel with fog spilling out around me (Why did I not consider getting a fog machine until just now?) Maybe I will like this...Maybe.
Note to self...get a fog machine.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Lie, Lie, Lie...
Today I took my bridal portraits. I spent most of the day getting my hair done followed by my makeup and then heading up to Northwest Arkansas to actually take the pictures to try to avoid 95 degree weather with 100% humidity in Fort Smith. The good part about this story is that the pictures are complete. They're over and done and one way or another we are just going to have pick a picture that we (my mother) can all live with. The part about this story that isn't good is pretty much everything else...
I have been dreading this day for weeks. I had these pictures originally planned for about a week ago when we rescheduled for fear of rain on a day that in reality not a raindrop fell and it was about 75 degrees in Fort Smith where I really wanted to take the pictures. Eff me. Nonetheless, I tried to move forward and forget about our lost opportunity and hope that it would be bearably cool in Fayetteville on my new day so as to avoid me sweating through my bridal portraits.
I had discussed this day with Cody for a while. He knew what was going on. He knew I was getting my hair done and makeup and all that stuff. He knew I wasn't exactly excited about the whole process. He understood that me and a big to do over how I look is not really my style. He knew. Today after I had gotten my hair and makeup done my mother and I ran home to get my bouquet before going to Fayetteville. Coincidentally, Cody was at my parents' house taking care of our puppies when I arrived to get the flowers. (Mind you I have spent all day trying to look exceptionally pretty for these stupid pictures). I got to the house and debated as to whether I should even go inside for fear that I shouldn't show Cody how breathtakingly beautiful I look. I mean he shouldn't see me this pretty until our actual wedding day, right? Nonetheless, my need to respray my hair outweighed my desire for Cody not to see me.
I turned the corner in the front yard and passed Cody to his response of, "Hey." Hummmm, that's weird. I figured he obviously didn't get a good glimpse of me. I assumed the 3 puppies were occupying his time. He'll certainly say something in just a second. Second time around he walked past me as I was hairspraying my hair...."Do you have on fake eyelashes?" WTF? Are you seriously again not remarking about how unbelievably gorgeous I look after spending the entire day working to look this good. Are you really going to find nothing positive to say and instead point out that my eyelashes look fake enough that a man can spot that they're not mine. Seriously? Can you not figure out that when your fiancee stresses over a day from beauty hell and you happen to see her right before she leaves to take pictures you should maybe mention she looks good?
Freakin' crap guys...LIE!!!! If your girlfriend or fiancee or wife or any female that you have any type of connection to goes out of her way to look different than she usually looks, tell her she looks good. Lie straight through your teeth if you have to. Practice the delivery of these lies when you're by yourself at night with nothing to do. Take 2 seconds of your precious time to be prepared for that one moment when you see that girl and you realize she looks different than usual and you must convince her you think she looks pretty...Lie, lie, lie. Women lie. We lie all the time. I lie. I lie because I care enough to lie.
I don't get it. It bothered me. It took my mom pointing out all of the stuff I had had done before Cody finally told me it looked "cool." Great. I was so excited to know that I (my mother) was paying tons of money and I was spending hours of my time enduring beauty procedures that are like a little slice of hell so that I could receive the same reaction that you would give a new flashlight. Awesome.
Once I got back in the car my mother remarked that she was a little surprised Cody didn't tell me I looked good. I tried to explain that Cody doesn't really have it all together like everyone assumes he does. Sometimes (often) he misses the forest for the trees. It sucked. I spent an entire drive to Fayetteville questioning all the makeup and hair. Maybe it didn't look good. Cody obviously wasn't impressed and isn't he really the most important opinion? It was bad. I was reaffirmed a little when my photographer told me I looked pretty and 2 guys at Taco Bueno and a guy at the gas station. But why did all of these men notice me and my own man didn't. Ouch.
This was bad. Maybe this carried over to the rest of the bridal portraits experience because the rest of the day didn't get much better. It was hot in Fayetteville and the buttons on my dress didn't work and my veil was weird. A million other things went wrong. Unfortunately, the buttons can be fixed along with the veil and the heat is something no one can control. There's only one lasting effect of this day. Lie, lie, lie.
I have been dreading this day for weeks. I had these pictures originally planned for about a week ago when we rescheduled for fear of rain on a day that in reality not a raindrop fell and it was about 75 degrees in Fort Smith where I really wanted to take the pictures. Eff me. Nonetheless, I tried to move forward and forget about our lost opportunity and hope that it would be bearably cool in Fayetteville on my new day so as to avoid me sweating through my bridal portraits.
I had discussed this day with Cody for a while. He knew what was going on. He knew I was getting my hair done and makeup and all that stuff. He knew I wasn't exactly excited about the whole process. He understood that me and a big to do over how I look is not really my style. He knew. Today after I had gotten my hair and makeup done my mother and I ran home to get my bouquet before going to Fayetteville. Coincidentally, Cody was at my parents' house taking care of our puppies when I arrived to get the flowers. (Mind you I have spent all day trying to look exceptionally pretty for these stupid pictures). I got to the house and debated as to whether I should even go inside for fear that I shouldn't show Cody how breathtakingly beautiful I look. I mean he shouldn't see me this pretty until our actual wedding day, right? Nonetheless, my need to respray my hair outweighed my desire for Cody not to see me.
I turned the corner in the front yard and passed Cody to his response of, "Hey." Hummmm, that's weird. I figured he obviously didn't get a good glimpse of me. I assumed the 3 puppies were occupying his time. He'll certainly say something in just a second. Second time around he walked past me as I was hairspraying my hair...."Do you have on fake eyelashes?" WTF? Are you seriously again not remarking about how unbelievably gorgeous I look after spending the entire day working to look this good. Are you really going to find nothing positive to say and instead point out that my eyelashes look fake enough that a man can spot that they're not mine. Seriously? Can you not figure out that when your fiancee stresses over a day from beauty hell and you happen to see her right before she leaves to take pictures you should maybe mention she looks good?
Freakin' crap guys...LIE!!!! If your girlfriend or fiancee or wife or any female that you have any type of connection to goes out of her way to look different than she usually looks, tell her she looks good. Lie straight through your teeth if you have to. Practice the delivery of these lies when you're by yourself at night with nothing to do. Take 2 seconds of your precious time to be prepared for that one moment when you see that girl and you realize she looks different than usual and you must convince her you think she looks pretty...Lie, lie, lie. Women lie. We lie all the time. I lie. I lie because I care enough to lie.
I don't get it. It bothered me. It took my mom pointing out all of the stuff I had had done before Cody finally told me it looked "cool." Great. I was so excited to know that I (my mother) was paying tons of money and I was spending hours of my time enduring beauty procedures that are like a little slice of hell so that I could receive the same reaction that you would give a new flashlight. Awesome.
Once I got back in the car my mother remarked that she was a little surprised Cody didn't tell me I looked good. I tried to explain that Cody doesn't really have it all together like everyone assumes he does. Sometimes (often) he misses the forest for the trees. It sucked. I spent an entire drive to Fayetteville questioning all the makeup and hair. Maybe it didn't look good. Cody obviously wasn't impressed and isn't he really the most important opinion? It was bad. I was reaffirmed a little when my photographer told me I looked pretty and 2 guys at Taco Bueno and a guy at the gas station. But why did all of these men notice me and my own man didn't. Ouch.
This was bad. Maybe this carried over to the rest of the bridal portraits experience because the rest of the day didn't get much better. It was hot in Fayetteville and the buttons on my dress didn't work and my veil was weird. A million other things went wrong. Unfortunately, the buttons can be fixed along with the veil and the heat is something no one can control. There's only one lasting effect of this day. Lie, lie, lie.
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