The Bright Side of Life

I think tomorrow's the day I do it. Tomorrow's the day I wear a skirt to work. Maybe I should wait until Friday. There's no shipment on Friday. Just signage. Which shouldn't involve ladders for any reason. Unless they switch me to something else, like they did this morning... I'll have to think on this decision.

The reception this past weekend went wonderfully. Like everything else major that happens in this family it came down to the wire. People were showing up and my dad hadn't even showered yet. He was hanging out in sweat pants and he was all sweaty and gross from moving tables and chairs. But we got it together before Jeremy's guests showed up. My family knows what to expect, his doesn't. I'd like to keep them in the dark a little bit longer.

It got a little too loud for my tastes later into the night. And people kept deviating from my playlist. I would've preferred the music to stay big band and swing and a little mellow, but I know everyone loves to dance. Except my husband. But we did get our one dance, a slow song of course. It was after most guests had left though and we were the only ones really paying attention so naturally there are no pictures.

In fact, there aren't really any pictures of anything aside from one big group photo and Jeremy and I cutting the cake. Twice. We did it the first time and nobody said anything to me about pausing to mug for the camera, cause that's not something I generally do, so we had to pretend we were cutting it a second time. And I look pregnant in the pictures. I had meant to pick up some Spanx or something but I just never got around to it and I really regret that decision now. I also really regret having friends and family who let that happen with no regard for myself and the people that I can't show these pictures to because I'm self-conscious. Thanks family.

On the other hand at least I wasn't wearing Spanx and then blatantly showing them to everyone because I don't know how to sit like a lady. Talking about one guest in particular here, but no I won't be specific. Cause what if they actually read this. Oh snap.

I do love the web page for Spanx. None of those women look like they need the item they're modeling. Is that because that's how amazing Spanx are? No. Because I can count the one models ribs. She could be a xylophone. The plus-size page is my absolute favorite. Not one of those bitches is bigger than I am. I either need to get me some Spanx for just like, all the times, or I need to reevaluate my eating habits and exercise regime.

I made Jeremy watch The Usual Suspects last night. He didn't seem as impressed with it as I was. My one brother even told me the ending before I saw it and I was still amazed with it. But Jeremy was like, 'it's good.' Which is basically like saying, 'meh.'

I spent my entire shift at work organizing jeans in the dude department. Four hours of just, reading planograms and muttering angrily under my breath about how stupid the fuckers who shop there and who work there are. Before I started, my supervisor asked me if I know how to POG (read a planogram, and follow it) and I stared at her blankly for a moment before thinking of a polite response. Because the first one that came into my head was along the lines of, 'are you asking if I'm at, or above, a third grade reading level?'

My family asked me how my job hunt was going this weekend. 'I saw on Facebook you were talking about being tired of interviews, mah mah mah.' I hate not seeing people for a while and having to catch up and be like, yes I do still work at that crappy job. And live in that crappy apartment. And drive that crappy vehicle. I couldn't even be like, 'and this is my husband, Jeremy,' cause he's already met all of the family that was there.

At one point, I started saying hi to people, re-greeting them, and saying, 'and of course you remember my husband.'

Because nothing else has changed.

...Sigh

It's De-Lightful

So after all that bitching I did about how the yard would look all redneck-y and such, my brother and his wife came over to my parents the night before the wedding to hang out for a bit and Scotty saw the backyard and I guess felt that it wasn't good enough for his little sister to get married in as it was. So early Saturday morning, (I like to imagine they were sitting in the parking lot waiting for the manager to open the doors, like those crazy Black Friday shoppers... which they are) they went out to Hobby Lobby and rented some stuff to pretty up the place and they even borrowed chairs from his in-laws. Oh, and they bought us two big flower bouquets and vases that are sitting on top of my piano now. I'm sad that I didn't get to see until after the ceremony though cause I only had a short time to really appreciate it. I wasn't allowed out of the house until the walk "down the aisle." (There wasn't really an aisle.) Everyone else saw it though so that's good. But what I did see was beautiful. My sappy big brother...

I ended up going with my back-up dress. The intended dress was ready in time, but when I put it on it just didn't feel right. I pictured something so much different in my head and I really thought I had conveyed that properly but I guess not and now I just have a kinda fancy dress for if we ever go anywhere where I need a fancy dress. My brother's wife summed up perfectly how I felt when I was wearing the original dress when she said she almost wanted to cry seeing my face when I looked in the mirror. I was just disappointed. But the back-up, while probably not beautiful, made me feel how I imagine a bride is supposed to feel when she puts on her dream dress. It didn't look anything like what I imagined my wedding dress would look like, but then again I didn't start imaging a dress until we started planning a wedding. Which I think is backwards.

I only wish that we had chosen some music to be played while people were waiting, or at least while dad and I walked from the back door to the very back of the yard. Everything I had wanted though made me cry when I pictured it and I knew I would already be crying enough once I was up there with him, I didn't want to exacerbate that. So instead there was an awkward silence, well it was awkward for everyone else, dad and I just made jokes about how awkward it was and how I was going to cry like a little girl... so I wouldn't start crying. Jeremy's mum made a comment about the lack of music while I was making my way up, and then he told me about it later and for some reason I got all fired up about it. I know there should have been something but maybe you can wait until after the wedding to make your snide remarks. I'm the only one allowed to be snarky about my wedding during my wedding. Occasionally Jeremy can be, but only occasionally.

I wrote our vows that morning. Literally, that morning. Courtney and I were texting until about one in the morning trying to work some things out. We had a general idea but all of the vows seemed cliche, hollow, or contrite. So I ended up paraphrasing F. Scott Fitzgerald and Shakespeare, and taking a bit here and there from some of the vows she found online. We didn't read our own, or recite after her. Instead she introduced them as being written by us and then she read them. I liked it better that way, cause it felt more unified. Also, neither of us would have gotten through them. We're big babies.

I asked my dad to read a poem by Yeats, which he (my dad) made it through just fine, but I did not. I was fine as long as I kept looking at our hands. The moment I looked at Jeremy though I thought, 'thank god Courtney's reading the vows.' We also did a sand-ceremony-thing. Which is where we each have a container of colored sand and we pour the two colors together into one container. We went with light and dark blue cause it our favorite color and the jars are now sitting on top of the piano, between the two vases of lovely blue flowers from Scotty and Ashley.

I should've known it would be a perfect day, (except for my being sick and coughing until I vomited in the Olive Garden restroom and everyone thinking I was pregnant) despite everything that wasn't working out how I wanted it to. Our family does well in the clutch.

I'll tell you what I'm not excited about that though: mum invited Drunkle (our consistently drunk uncle) to the reception while I was on honeymoon. Yeah. That's happening.

Work Rant Part... large number

I'm annoyed that my stupid supervisors have waited this long to give me more hours. They ask me to stay later and joke that they're doing it so I can have money for the honeymoon. Or they'll ask me to pick up a shift, or two, or three and smile knowingly like we're in on something together: 'These three hours you just agreed to will most assuredly pay for fine dining and souvenirs. You're welcome.'
If these hours are available a month before I'm leaving the country, why were they not available two months before? Or three? Or ever? You hapless retards.

In other news, we're buying cheap-ish announcements but I'm making the invites. There aren't a lot of people coming (fingers crossed, not that I don't want people to celebrate but I'm not a big-party person) so it's not a time consuming thing. I wanted to make them originally but then we ended up with a crazy guest list and I was all, fuck that. And then we cut the list in 3/4 and now I get to make them again. My brother off-handedly suggested that they should be on this stationary that I have but the colours don't match so I'm getting some pretty stamps and some ink, and I'm reception invitation-ing up this place! ... whatever that means.