Things are starting to look a little more all right. After falling pretty low last week, I started taking B and D vitamins on a whim after a recommendation from a salesperson at Whole Foods. Very not me. The first day, the effects won over my skepticism. It can't be a placebo effect if I didn't think it would work, and I really didn't. Now I think the vitamins are helping with my overarching depressive feelings, but I’m still fairly irritable. Now that I think of it, I’ve been a fairly short-tempered person all my life, haven’t I? Maybe that is my normal, like it or not?
I watched Iron-Jawed Angels last night, further throwing myself into a feminist mindset right now.
For example, the current issue of Glamour is pretty badass in that there’s a photo shoot of about a dozen women like me. Literally between sizes 10 and 14. I just love it, rolls and all. I told my husband that I've only ever seen such imperfections in the mirror. He didn’t understand why. "You've seen naked women in porn before." Bwahahahahahaha. Hahahahaha. Yes, a couple times, but not a single back roll or tummy pooch! Movies? “Perfect” women. Magazines? “Perfect” women. No wonder I'm so hard on myself.
Coincidentally, I had an orthodontic consultation yesterday as well. If I got braces, it’d be about $4,500, and insurance wouldn’t cover a penny. It would be predominantly cosmetic, with only some hope of alleviating some of my jaw issues through an improved bite. I was leaning toward thinking it’s not worth it, but other people seem to think I should find a way to do it. And I’ve spent the last 10 years convincing myself that my teeth just aren’t "that bad." It’s like finally coming to terms with your body and then all of a sudden people are shoving salads and Diet Cokes in your face.
I picked up It's Not That I'm Bitter and am enjoying the hell out of it. I always think I'm weird in my frustrations and obsessions over little things. There's comforting in reading that everyone has such issues, but now where did my uniqueness go? Dammit.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Light and love
I've been meaning to write a blog post for quite some time now. Weeks at least, if not a month or more. I'll come up with my next "really great idea," leave myself notes to write about it, and then just never do it. That's just about how things have gone lately, though.
So yes, I am alive. Relatively speaking, I am doing pretty well, I guess. Feeling a little under-the-weather to say the least.
Now that I'm finally worked up to writing, I have nothing to say. My head is empty. My chest feels a bit empty, but at least it doesn't feel like a small, evil cat is sitting on it right now. (That's about the only way I can describe the weird, unsettling sensation I've had for a while.)
In yoga, my instructor says that we say "namaste" to mean "the light and love in me bows to the light and love in you." And that I'm supposed to "shine all that light and love that I've created for myself today out to all those I greet or think of today." Now what do I do if I feel that my love is somehow bound like old Chinese feet, and that my light is flickering out? How do I change the light bulb?
Damn, I sound so emo. Someone slap me for that. Maybe that'll make the lightbulb stop flickering. But would it start working, or short out altogether?
This rather blows. On paper, everything in my life is practically perfect. Why do I feel like poo, to put it childishly? Is this some form of 21st-century "Feminine Mystique," updated to include a four-year degree and career?
But I promise, I'm doing my very best to share any light and love I can manage. I know everyone else needs it as much as I do.
So yes, I am alive. Relatively speaking, I am doing pretty well, I guess. Feeling a little under-the-weather to say the least.
Now that I'm finally worked up to writing, I have nothing to say. My head is empty. My chest feels a bit empty, but at least it doesn't feel like a small, evil cat is sitting on it right now. (That's about the only way I can describe the weird, unsettling sensation I've had for a while.)
In yoga, my instructor says that we say "namaste" to mean "the light and love in me bows to the light and love in you." And that I'm supposed to "shine all that light and love that I've created for myself today out to all those I greet or think of today." Now what do I do if I feel that my love is somehow bound like old Chinese feet, and that my light is flickering out? How do I change the light bulb?
Damn, I sound so emo. Someone slap me for that. Maybe that'll make the lightbulb stop flickering. But would it start working, or short out altogether?
This rather blows. On paper, everything in my life is practically perfect. Why do I feel like poo, to put it childishly? Is this some form of 21st-century "Feminine Mystique," updated to include a four-year degree and career?
But I promise, I'm doing my very best to share any light and love I can manage. I know everyone else needs it as much as I do.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Take responsibility
It's been a little more than a month, and I'm still quite happily married. People still ask "how is married life?" and I still tell them "pretty much the same." It's a good same, though, and I'm still working on being happy with daily sameness. The stability is comforting, although it does make me restless from time to time. When evaluating all possible positions I could be in at this point in my life, where I am right now still looks damn near perfect.
Especially compared to the dead guy.
I was driving to work and saw a car window display for a recently deceased person. Usually I don't think too much of them, just that while they're well-meaning and very sweet, they come across as tacky. But because it was right in front of me, I read it. This young man was born the same year as me. I lost it. I cried the last two blocks to work, and had to calm myself down and wipe up the tears before I could go in and start my day. Here I didn't even know the guy and I was in hysterics! Having just watched Garden State for the first time last night (five years after the rest of the world), I was reminded of the scene in which Zach Braff's character is explaining his mom's death to Natalie Portman and she starts sniffling. He asks her "why are you crying?" "Because it's just so sad."
...
Unrelatedly, here's a little rant topic for the day: Study: Many don't graduate college due to lack of academic challenge
That's just a little too easy, don't you think? I've heard this excuse too many times. "I got bad grades in high school because I was bored and didn't want to do my work." Well, how are you going to prove it? It's a little late now because you don't have the grades to show for it. Yes, this is coming from a life-long kiss-ass who got good grades out of ego and needing a way to pay for college, but I simply don't buy it. If you didn't want to do well in school then, you can't just blame it all away on someone else. Like Obama said yesterday, you need to take responsibility for yourself, your actions, your education and your future. You can say things are "too hard" or "too easy" and that as a result it's someone else's fault. But in the end, we've all got to stick up for ourselves.
Especially compared to the dead guy.
I was driving to work and saw a car window display for a recently deceased person. Usually I don't think too much of them, just that while they're well-meaning and very sweet, they come across as tacky. But because it was right in front of me, I read it. This young man was born the same year as me. I lost it. I cried the last two blocks to work, and had to calm myself down and wipe up the tears before I could go in and start my day. Here I didn't even know the guy and I was in hysterics! Having just watched Garden State for the first time last night (five years after the rest of the world), I was reminded of the scene in which Zach Braff's character is explaining his mom's death to Natalie Portman and she starts sniffling. He asks her "why are you crying?" "Because it's just so sad."
...
Unrelatedly, here's a little rant topic for the day: Study: Many don't graduate college due to lack of academic challenge
That's just a little too easy, don't you think? I've heard this excuse too many times. "I got bad grades in high school because I was bored and didn't want to do my work." Well, how are you going to prove it? It's a little late now because you don't have the grades to show for it. Yes, this is coming from a life-long kiss-ass who got good grades out of ego and needing a way to pay for college, but I simply don't buy it. If you didn't want to do well in school then, you can't just blame it all away on someone else. Like Obama said yesterday, you need to take responsibility for yourself, your actions, your education and your future. You can say things are "too hard" or "too easy" and that as a result it's someone else's fault. But in the end, we've all got to stick up for ourselves.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Wedding Part 5: The Big Day
I probably should have written this first, when it was fresh, but I’m terrible about this sort of thing. In my work I do the same thing—I’ll go on-site, do research, conduct interviews, and then sit on it until the details aren’t as clear as they should be.
Thank goodness there are photos. The photos take me back... (All photos below courtesy of family and friends. For professional pics, see my last post.)
I woke up at home and in my own bed about 8 a.m., feeling rested. At first I was my usual slightly sleepy Saturday-morning self until it occurred to me that "hey, I'm getting married today." That pulled me out of bed a little easier. I stumbled downstairs and showered, just as I would any other morning. My Victoria's Secret "Bride" tank top, black comfy skirt and Ed Hardy rain boots (forecast: morning rain) were already picked out, so I continued my slight morning daze.
My pre-wedding outfit:
Lisa—my maid of honor and chauffeur for the day—arrived about 9 a.m. to load up wedding decorations into her parents' car. She, her husband and Grant loaded everything into two vehicles as I wandered around uselessly. I'd seriously hurt my back three days earlier and wasn't going to chance anything.
We picked up coffee from QuikTrip and drove the 30 minutes to Mahaffie. Neither of us really spoke, partly because we weren't quite awake yet, but mostly because I was too into my own head with my corny and nostalgic thoughts. I knew at the time that the only thing I'd really remember from the drive was the sky, and I was right. The sky was perfectly blue and the clouds heavenly white, seemingly right out of a Windows desktop image.
Apparently it become ominously cloudy at some point that morning, but I don't remember it:
When we arrived at Mahaffie, the decoration motley crew was in full force. I was armed with thank-you muffins, but everyone was too busy to eat them. Along with a few scattered hellos, one of the first things I heard—before I even made it in the door—was that something was wrong with the tablecloths. Afraid that I may freak out a little, I went in to check out the problem and speak to the woman in charge. As it turns out, the head tables that were supposed to be black were instead outfitted with white table cloths—a change made without my consent. And the white tablecloths we'd borrowed were unnecessary because the venue staff had placed white tablecloths that we did not pay to rent on all of the tables. After a little "I'm sorry but you have to hear about this" venting, I moved on without another thought of tables. The decoration crew did their thing, and beautifully:
By 11:30, decorations were in place, food was cut up and arranged, and everything was generally as done as it could be. Along with my mom, I hustled all the bridesmaids out the door to meet up at Planet Sub for our pre-hairdos lunch. While waiting for our subs, one of my bridesmaids told me that my wedding cake (made next door at Dragonfly Bakery) was done and still in the store. My mom and I went over to investigate:
We got back to Planet Sub just as our food was arriving. Perfect timing. A little usual girl talk, such that no one observing probably would have noticed that any of us was getting married. From there, we walked and drove over to Beauty Brands for our hair appointments.
I give Beauty Brands mega-props for handling us so well. We took over the entire store. Before and after hair, we used various mirrors and chairs to do makeup. I did mine, two bridesmaids' and my mom's. Two girls did their own. We made a mess of the place, but promptly cleaned it all back up. My mom took photos of everyone getting their hair done, and I must say that everyone came out looking fabulous.
Our heads looking event-ready, we caravaned back to Mahaffie to get into our dresses. As the girls and my mom slipped into theirs, I began wondering where the photographer was. Didn't she say she'd be there at 3:30 for me to get into my dress? Ten minutes later, I call her, starting to panic. No, I misunderstood. She was supposed to be there at 4, with me already dressed. She assured me she'd be there shortly, though, and that if everyone else was all ready, she'd get photos of me getting dressed then. Four o'clock, no photographer. Fifteen minutes late, she shows up apologizing. Fortunately, everyone else is ready to go, and the photog gets everything done quickly, so in the end no one ends up behind.
I'm amazed and a little concerned that amid all excitement, I haven't started to freak out. It just feels like a really good day, with all of my favorite people. The photographer takes me, my mom and my girls to the park across the street to take photos. I alternate between enjoying the spotlight with my mom and friends, and feeling like a model at a shoot. At this point I'm still waiting to "feel like it's my wedding day," but I'm having too much fun to really care.
As soon as we get back to Mahaffie, it's hurry up and wait. I'm hustled upstairs as quickly as possible so the guys can go outside for photos without Grant accidentally seeing me. I catch a quick glimpse at him from the walkway overhead, though. Do my dad and grandmas want to see me beforehand? Sure. They come up, and I'm a little disappointed that no one goes "Ohmygoshwhatabeautifulbride, Ican'tbelieveit!" My new mother-in-law cries on and off at the sight of me, though, and my mom tears up often enough that it starts to feel real. Five minutes before we're all supposed to go down, the reality finally hits. I'm about to get married. There's no questioning or regrets, but I'm getting nervous. Really nervous. It's a little hard to breathe.
After securing the horses and carriage from a not-too-thrilled Mahaffie staff member, we go downstairs. This is it. Six months of planning, and it's all here. This is my wedding. A golf cart takes me and my girls to a waiting area, and the first group of attendants piles into the carriage.
The original plan was for the carriage to take two groups of the wedding party, and then me by myself. As I watch the slow-moving horses, I realize that there's no way I'm going to wait all by myself in a golf cart for a few minutes. While the second group squishes in, I tell them they'll have to make room for me, too.
After everyone else has finished the wedding procession, my brother-in-law helps me out of the carriage. I know now that my decision to walk down the aisle by myself was the right one, but I'm glad my mom thought to tell me to have someone help me out of the carriage. I'm in four-inch heels that are killing my feet, after all.
"Captain Crash and the Beauty Queen From Mars" starts. After a moment's hesitation—to make sure that I'm hearing it correctly—I start forward. At that point, nothing can stop me. I try to walk slower, but I can't. I'm trying to look at all the guests, but I know I can't take it in fast enough. I look at Grant, and we both start to cry. When I get to the front, my mom and I hug. It's unplanned, but just happens. My mom's crying, and singing my song. My dad's crying, but I don't even notice. The song runs longer than I'd planned because I walked so fast, but Grant and I just look at each other, happier than we've ever been. (He now swears he didn't cry. Liar.)
Throughout the ceremony—performed by one of our best friends who got ordained just for us—I'm just looking at my husband-to-soon-be. I realize at the time that I'm not really listening to the service. I barely listen to the moms' readings. I'm too busy taking in everything else. My feet don't hurt until later—at the time, there's only pure happiness. (Nauseous from my account yet?)
Everything goes essentially without a hitch. I later learn that nearly all the guests, family members and wedding party shed a few tears at some point. Biased as I know I am, I still say it must be one of the happiest weddings ever.
When it comes time for the vows, I realize one small thing... I forgot about them. Not that we had them, and not to write them. But to read them again before the ceremony. It's been months since we found them. Grant repeats his, and I try my best to take it all in as his promises to me. But also I need to remember them a little better. As Baker says them for me to repeat, I keep looking back to read his lips to make sure that I catch them perfectly and don't misstep in repeating them. All the while, Grant's mouthing them back to me to help. Other people later thought this was sweet, but they didn't realize it was because I was faltering a bit!
"Mr. and Mrs. Grant and Kelly Von Lunen." The DJ misses the cue, so we wait for him to start "Storybook Love." The audience misses this as their cue, so Grant's mom yells "Blow bubbles! Blow bubbles!" Any other time this would have seemed like a mess, but it was all so real and so happy. I smiled and walked with my new husband through the bubble wonderland.
We take family photos, wedding party photos, bride-and-groom photos. Halfway through photos, I kick off my shoes (which never go back on) and steal half a cup of Bud Light from the best man. I'm four inches shorter in the second half of the photos than I am during the first. The photographer pulls people in and out of shots quickly enough that no one gets particularly grumpy, a feat I've never seen handled so well. Grant and I grab a slice of pizza each before our just-us shots. No one wants a hungry-grumpy bride and groom.
Grant and I enter the reception to a full applause. We quickly chat up the guests before grabbing a few more bites to eat, and then cutting the cake. Everything needs follow pretty careful orchestration to get it all done in the photographer's time frame, but I never feel rushed. My bridesmaids insist often that I sit down, relax and eat my dinner. But I'm too busy, and not really hungry.
We cut the cake. The maid of honor gives her speech, and I thank her for not making me cry. The best man opens with "What's poppin', bitches?" I hide behind my hand... Next "I just wanna say, fuck that guy." I sneak a peak at my very horrified family in the corner. He continues with an actually very nice and well planned speech, a bit to my surprise. He wraps up with "to honor." One of my favorite photos of the day is of my look of shock and terror before I realize that he isn't going to give the complete "honor toast." Thank goodness.
Grant's mom presents him with his great-grandfather's ring, passed down through all the eldest males in the family. More tears abound.
Our first dance. By this point, the details are getting fuzzy. It's a wonder my face doesn't hurt from smiling. I'm still floating on a cloud, but any nuances are lost. We do ask each other toward the end of "Don't Wanna Miss a Thing": "So how long is this song anyway? Maybe we should have picked something a little shorter..."
Also, my mom's camera has been put away at this point and most friends have stopped incessantly snapping photos, so I don't have many to post. One I do have is of the garter toss. At this point I'm feeling very at home in the spotlight and having a blast.
Every time I walk somewhere to talk to someone, I get stopped several times. Despite not having a receiving line, I do think I at least get to say to hi to everyone who wants to see me. We had a dollar dance, which also gave me a chance to talk to more people. I whine that Grant has more people in his line than mine. My dad cries through the majority of our father-daughter dance to "Just the Way You Are." My uncle's youngest kid spends half an hour walking on my dress because his parents weren't watching him. I ask one too-drunk guest's brother to take him home. People dance. A good time is had by all.
I'm reluctant to leave my own party, so we don't head out until about 10:30. By that point, mostly only wedding party, family and a few cleaner-uppers remain. We're handing out whole leftover pizzas as unexpected wedding favors.
By this time I don't want the day to be over, but my dress feels too tight and I'm tired. I'm running out of steam. In a way I'm happy to want to be out of my dress—otherwise I'd cry to take it off. My memory's also running out of steam, so rather than think of a clever end, I'm just going to be done.
The end. (And the beginning?)
Thank goodness there are photos. The photos take me back... (All photos below courtesy of family and friends. For professional pics, see my last post.)
I woke up at home and in my own bed about 8 a.m., feeling rested. At first I was my usual slightly sleepy Saturday-morning self until it occurred to me that "hey, I'm getting married today." That pulled me out of bed a little easier. I stumbled downstairs and showered, just as I would any other morning. My Victoria's Secret "Bride" tank top, black comfy skirt and Ed Hardy rain boots (forecast: morning rain) were already picked out, so I continued my slight morning daze.
My pre-wedding outfit:
Lisa—my maid of honor and chauffeur for the day—arrived about 9 a.m. to load up wedding decorations into her parents' car. She, her husband and Grant loaded everything into two vehicles as I wandered around uselessly. I'd seriously hurt my back three days earlier and wasn't going to chance anything.
We picked up coffee from QuikTrip and drove the 30 minutes to Mahaffie. Neither of us really spoke, partly because we weren't quite awake yet, but mostly because I was too into my own head with my corny and nostalgic thoughts. I knew at the time that the only thing I'd really remember from the drive was the sky, and I was right. The sky was perfectly blue and the clouds heavenly white, seemingly right out of a Windows desktop image.
Apparently it become ominously cloudy at some point that morning, but I don't remember it:
When we arrived at Mahaffie, the decoration motley crew was in full force. I was armed with thank-you muffins, but everyone was too busy to eat them. Along with a few scattered hellos, one of the first things I heard—before I even made it in the door—was that something was wrong with the tablecloths. Afraid that I may freak out a little, I went in to check out the problem and speak to the woman in charge. As it turns out, the head tables that were supposed to be black were instead outfitted with white table cloths—a change made without my consent. And the white tablecloths we'd borrowed were unnecessary because the venue staff had placed white tablecloths that we did not pay to rent on all of the tables. After a little "I'm sorry but you have to hear about this" venting, I moved on without another thought of tables. The decoration crew did their thing, and beautifully:
By 11:30, decorations were in place, food was cut up and arranged, and everything was generally as done as it could be. Along with my mom, I hustled all the bridesmaids out the door to meet up at Planet Sub for our pre-hairdos lunch. While waiting for our subs, one of my bridesmaids told me that my wedding cake (made next door at Dragonfly Bakery) was done and still in the store. My mom and I went over to investigate:
We got back to Planet Sub just as our food was arriving. Perfect timing. A little usual girl talk, such that no one observing probably would have noticed that any of us was getting married. From there, we walked and drove over to Beauty Brands for our hair appointments.
I give Beauty Brands mega-props for handling us so well. We took over the entire store. Before and after hair, we used various mirrors and chairs to do makeup. I did mine, two bridesmaids' and my mom's. Two girls did their own. We made a mess of the place, but promptly cleaned it all back up. My mom took photos of everyone getting their hair done, and I must say that everyone came out looking fabulous.
Our heads looking event-ready, we caravaned back to Mahaffie to get into our dresses. As the girls and my mom slipped into theirs, I began wondering where the photographer was. Didn't she say she'd be there at 3:30 for me to get into my dress? Ten minutes later, I call her, starting to panic. No, I misunderstood. She was supposed to be there at 4, with me already dressed. She assured me she'd be there shortly, though, and that if everyone else was all ready, she'd get photos of me getting dressed then. Four o'clock, no photographer. Fifteen minutes late, she shows up apologizing. Fortunately, everyone else is ready to go, and the photog gets everything done quickly, so in the end no one ends up behind.
I'm amazed and a little concerned that amid all excitement, I haven't started to freak out. It just feels like a really good day, with all of my favorite people. The photographer takes me, my mom and my girls to the park across the street to take photos. I alternate between enjoying the spotlight with my mom and friends, and feeling like a model at a shoot. At this point I'm still waiting to "feel like it's my wedding day," but I'm having too much fun to really care.
As soon as we get back to Mahaffie, it's hurry up and wait. I'm hustled upstairs as quickly as possible so the guys can go outside for photos without Grant accidentally seeing me. I catch a quick glimpse at him from the walkway overhead, though. Do my dad and grandmas want to see me beforehand? Sure. They come up, and I'm a little disappointed that no one goes "Ohmygoshwhatabeautifulbride, Ican'tbelieveit!" My new mother-in-law cries on and off at the sight of me, though, and my mom tears up often enough that it starts to feel real. Five minutes before we're all supposed to go down, the reality finally hits. I'm about to get married. There's no questioning or regrets, but I'm getting nervous. Really nervous. It's a little hard to breathe.
After securing the horses and carriage from a not-too-thrilled Mahaffie staff member, we go downstairs. This is it. Six months of planning, and it's all here. This is my wedding. A golf cart takes me and my girls to a waiting area, and the first group of attendants piles into the carriage.
The original plan was for the carriage to take two groups of the wedding party, and then me by myself. As I watch the slow-moving horses, I realize that there's no way I'm going to wait all by myself in a golf cart for a few minutes. While the second group squishes in, I tell them they'll have to make room for me, too.
After everyone else has finished the wedding procession, my brother-in-law helps me out of the carriage. I know now that my decision to walk down the aisle by myself was the right one, but I'm glad my mom thought to tell me to have someone help me out of the carriage. I'm in four-inch heels that are killing my feet, after all.
"Captain Crash and the Beauty Queen From Mars" starts. After a moment's hesitation—to make sure that I'm hearing it correctly—I start forward. At that point, nothing can stop me. I try to walk slower, but I can't. I'm trying to look at all the guests, but I know I can't take it in fast enough. I look at Grant, and we both start to cry. When I get to the front, my mom and I hug. It's unplanned, but just happens. My mom's crying, and singing my song. My dad's crying, but I don't even notice. The song runs longer than I'd planned because I walked so fast, but Grant and I just look at each other, happier than we've ever been. (He now swears he didn't cry. Liar.)
Throughout the ceremony—performed by one of our best friends who got ordained just for us—I'm just looking at my husband-to-soon-be. I realize at the time that I'm not really listening to the service. I barely listen to the moms' readings. I'm too busy taking in everything else. My feet don't hurt until later—at the time, there's only pure happiness. (Nauseous from my account yet?)
Everything goes essentially without a hitch. I later learn that nearly all the guests, family members and wedding party shed a few tears at some point. Biased as I know I am, I still say it must be one of the happiest weddings ever.
When it comes time for the vows, I realize one small thing... I forgot about them. Not that we had them, and not to write them. But to read them again before the ceremony. It's been months since we found them. Grant repeats his, and I try my best to take it all in as his promises to me. But also I need to remember them a little better. As Baker says them for me to repeat, I keep looking back to read his lips to make sure that I catch them perfectly and don't misstep in repeating them. All the while, Grant's mouthing them back to me to help. Other people later thought this was sweet, but they didn't realize it was because I was faltering a bit!
"Mr. and Mrs. Grant and Kelly Von Lunen." The DJ misses the cue, so we wait for him to start "Storybook Love." The audience misses this as their cue, so Grant's mom yells "Blow bubbles! Blow bubbles!" Any other time this would have seemed like a mess, but it was all so real and so happy. I smiled and walked with my new husband through the bubble wonderland.
We take family photos, wedding party photos, bride-and-groom photos. Halfway through photos, I kick off my shoes (which never go back on) and steal half a cup of Bud Light from the best man. I'm four inches shorter in the second half of the photos than I am during the first. The photographer pulls people in and out of shots quickly enough that no one gets particularly grumpy, a feat I've never seen handled so well. Grant and I grab a slice of pizza each before our just-us shots. No one wants a hungry-grumpy bride and groom.
Grant and I enter the reception to a full applause. We quickly chat up the guests before grabbing a few more bites to eat, and then cutting the cake. Everything needs follow pretty careful orchestration to get it all done in the photographer's time frame, but I never feel rushed. My bridesmaids insist often that I sit down, relax and eat my dinner. But I'm too busy, and not really hungry.
We cut the cake. The maid of honor gives her speech, and I thank her for not making me cry. The best man opens with "What's poppin', bitches?" I hide behind my hand... Next "I just wanna say, fuck that guy." I sneak a peak at my very horrified family in the corner. He continues with an actually very nice and well planned speech, a bit to my surprise. He wraps up with "to honor." One of my favorite photos of the day is of my look of shock and terror before I realize that he isn't going to give the complete "honor toast." Thank goodness.
Grant's mom presents him with his great-grandfather's ring, passed down through all the eldest males in the family. More tears abound.
Our first dance. By this point, the details are getting fuzzy. It's a wonder my face doesn't hurt from smiling. I'm still floating on a cloud, but any nuances are lost. We do ask each other toward the end of "Don't Wanna Miss a Thing": "So how long is this song anyway? Maybe we should have picked something a little shorter..."
Also, my mom's camera has been put away at this point and most friends have stopped incessantly snapping photos, so I don't have many to post. One I do have is of the garter toss. At this point I'm feeling very at home in the spotlight and having a blast.
Every time I walk somewhere to talk to someone, I get stopped several times. Despite not having a receiving line, I do think I at least get to say to hi to everyone who wants to see me. We had a dollar dance, which also gave me a chance to talk to more people. I whine that Grant has more people in his line than mine. My dad cries through the majority of our father-daughter dance to "Just the Way You Are." My uncle's youngest kid spends half an hour walking on my dress because his parents weren't watching him. I ask one too-drunk guest's brother to take him home. People dance. A good time is had by all.
I'm reluctant to leave my own party, so we don't head out until about 10:30. By that point, mostly only wedding party, family and a few cleaner-uppers remain. We're handing out whole leftover pizzas as unexpected wedding favors.
By this time I don't want the day to be over, but my dress feels too tight and I'm tired. I'm running out of steam. In a way I'm happy to want to be out of my dress—otherwise I'd cry to take it off. My memory's also running out of steam, so rather than think of a clever end, I'm just going to be done.
The end. (And the beginning?)
Friday, August 14, 2009
Wedding Part 4: Photos
Wedding photos are up! I give our photographer an A!
http://GrantKellyWedding.weddingherald.com
I do plan to write at least one more wedding blog post, and it'll be my account of "The Big Day." I don't know why I've been putting this one off until last when memories are so fleeting...
http://GrantKellyWedding.weddingherald.com
I do plan to write at least one more wedding blog post, and it'll be my account of "The Big Day." I don't know why I've been putting this one off until last when memories are so fleeting...
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Wedding Part 3: The Aftermath
Everyone keeps asking me how married life is. Grant’s been getting the same question, and we both automatically respond with “the same.” And it is the same in almost every way. We had been dating for four years and were already committed to each other. We’ve officially lived together for two years. Last spring we bought a house together. We’re even puppy parents as of a couple months ago.
Our finances stay separate as we both pay our half of the bills from one shared and two separate accounts. We don’t have any more or less sex. As of this week we’re even both back to our jobs and relatively normal routines.
Little things are different. We both look down at our wedding rings and catch ourselves smiling at them. We say “husband” and “wife,” sometimes mockingly and sometimes offhandedly. Occasionally I go “holy crap, that whole wedding day thing really happened.”
On a daily basis, things are the same as always. And I don’t feel any different, although I don’t know how I ever thought being married would feel different anyway. It’s just little moments here and there.
In spite of all of the sameness, I’m still having difficulty adjusting. A woman I sort of knew in college got married on August 1, too, and she already has her name officially changed. I feel like a slacker for not having already done so myself, but I’m not taking up the same charge to “take his name” right away. A little part of me mourns “Lanigan” whenever I sign “Kelly Von Lunen” at work. I’m both happy and a little sad, and mostly just a little confused.
At times I think of it as a mild post-wedding depression. I was expecting it to hit harder and sooner, the way in the Friends episode after her wedding Monica says “I never get to be a bride again—now I’m just somebody’s wife.” I’m perplexedly happy to be Grant’s wife. Life just looks a little different now.
I’m trying to learn how to just live, without the “next big thing” to look forward to. When I was in high school, it was college. Then buying my first real car. Then graduation. Then getting my first real job and moving in with Grant. Then buying a house. Then getting engaged. Then getting married…
So what’s next? According to the traditional view (which also holds that my having sex should only have begun 12 days ago) babies come next. But I know that I am not ready for babies. I’m still pretty sure I want a kid or two, but not for a couple years.
So again, what’s next? Life. I need to enjoy the here and the now and just being myself and being a wife and a friend and all of the other things I consider myself.
But so help me, I’m afraid I don’t know how yet. It’s a concept even more foreign to me than calling myself “Mrs.”
Our finances stay separate as we both pay our half of the bills from one shared and two separate accounts. We don’t have any more or less sex. As of this week we’re even both back to our jobs and relatively normal routines.
Little things are different. We both look down at our wedding rings and catch ourselves smiling at them. We say “husband” and “wife,” sometimes mockingly and sometimes offhandedly. Occasionally I go “holy crap, that whole wedding day thing really happened.”
On a daily basis, things are the same as always. And I don’t feel any different, although I don’t know how I ever thought being married would feel different anyway. It’s just little moments here and there.
In spite of all of the sameness, I’m still having difficulty adjusting. A woman I sort of knew in college got married on August 1, too, and she already has her name officially changed. I feel like a slacker for not having already done so myself, but I’m not taking up the same charge to “take his name” right away. A little part of me mourns “Lanigan” whenever I sign “Kelly Von Lunen” at work. I’m both happy and a little sad, and mostly just a little confused.
At times I think of it as a mild post-wedding depression. I was expecting it to hit harder and sooner, the way in the Friends episode after her wedding Monica says “I never get to be a bride again—now I’m just somebody’s wife.” I’m perplexedly happy to be Grant’s wife. Life just looks a little different now.
I’m trying to learn how to just live, without the “next big thing” to look forward to. When I was in high school, it was college. Then buying my first real car. Then graduation. Then getting my first real job and moving in with Grant. Then buying a house. Then getting engaged. Then getting married…
So what’s next? According to the traditional view (which also holds that my having sex should only have begun 12 days ago) babies come next. But I know that I am not ready for babies. I’m still pretty sure I want a kid or two, but not for a couple years.
So again, what’s next? Life. I need to enjoy the here and the now and just being myself and being a wife and a friend and all of the other things I consider myself.
But so help me, I’m afraid I don’t know how yet. It’s a concept even more foreign to me than calling myself “Mrs.”
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Wedding Part 2: Rating The Pieces
Cake: Dragonfly Bakery, A
The wedding cake was round, three tiers, silver, black scrolling and 100% pure awesome. They did exactly what we told them to, and it came out even better than we expected. The groom’s cake had the Zelda Triforce on it, and they decorators went above and beyond what we asked of them. The only downside is that we spent $780 on cake and only half of it was eaten.
Food: Minsky’s Pizza, A
Who says you can’t eat pizza at a nice wedding? We ordered about 10 different types of one-topping pizzas including lots of pepperoni, and vegetarian options like black olive and artichoke. Again, we did order too much and had lots of leftovers. At the end of the night, we were begging people to take home whole pizzas as “favors.”
Drinks: Bud Light, J. Roget champagne, A
Again, not every part of the wedding needs to be classy. It’s hard not to love cold Bud Light out of a keg, and it’s cheap. We bought two kegs, and just barely tapped the second. We also bought two cases of champagne, but there was little to be found by the end of the reception.
Dress: Allure Bridals from Bridal Extraordinaire, A
I am recommending for the rest of my life that every bride go to Bridal Extraordinaire in Shawnee, Kan., for her dress. It is a little pricier than David’s Bridal, but the dresses are high-quality and the service is unparalleled. I felt like a princess every time I went in there, was never rushed, and left happy every time. On the actual dress shopping day, my mom, future sister-in-law and I sat on a couch in a private room while the owner brought out dresses she thought I would like. And I did like almost every one! I also bought my hair accessory here and used a wonderful tailor the employees recommended. My bridesmaids bought their B2 gowns here as well.
The only downside for some would be that all dresses are in the store only as samples, which are mostly size 10 and 12. An exceptionally small or plus-size bride would have trouble visualizing the dress as it should fit on her, but this is the case at any upscale bridal shop.
Location: Mahaffie Historic Site, Olathe, Kan., A-
Fortunately, the weather on our wedding day was perfect, and worked well for the outdoor wedding on the site’s patio. Mahaffie staff set up and tore down all chairs and tables. They supervised the site all day while other events were going on nearby. My only complaints were on some unprofessionalism by a couple of staff members on the day of the wedding.
Hair: Beauty Brands, Olathe, Kan., A
Although I’m not a fan of national chains for most things, I am completely in love with Beauty Brands, and especially the 119th location. The entire staff working at the time was tending to my wedding party, and they essentially let us take over the whole store as we did our makeup before and after our hair appointments. I love everyone’s hair in the end, and I think everyone was happy with their own updos. I loved my hairstylist so much that I will no longer go to anyone else.
Makeup: Did our own, A-
I did makeup for myself, my mom and two bridesmaids. The other two bridesmaids did their own. Initially, I considered paying someone to do my makeup, but decided it would be cheaper to do my own. Six months of buying and playing with makeup to figure out how to do it right ended up being far more expensive, but the end result is that I now know how to make myself look like a grownup on a daily basis, whereas I never wore makeup before.
There are a few things I’d recommend to anyone doing their own wedding party makeup, though:
• Foundation primer for anyone wearing foundation
• Eye makeup for everyone, with eyeshadow primer underneath
• Black waterproof mascara for everyone
• Have every girl do a test run before the day of, especially those who do not usually wear makeup
Transportation: Did our own, B
Everyone drove themselves, except that my maid of honor chauffeured me during the day and I went home with my new husband. Even in retrospect in a limitless-budget wedding, I would not spring for a limo or other transportation.
We did rent a horse-drawn carriage at Mahaffie to bring the wedding party up to the aisle. It was $200 for two hours, but completely worth it. Guests were able to take carriage rides while the wedding party and family were taking pictures.
Photographer: Angela Needs, Who Needs Photos, Bonner Springs, Mo., TBA
We LOVE our wedding photos, LOVE our photographer as a person, and can’t wait to get our proofs back this weekend. So far she’s an A+, but the official verdict still isn’t in.
I originally planned to ask a friend of a friend to take photos, but after talking to a couple people who still cry thinking about how mediocre their photos are, we sprung the $1,200 for a photographer we fell in love with at a bridal show in Overland Park.
Decorating: Moms, A
My and Grant’s moms bought wedding decorations here and there from WalMart, Kohl’s, Target, Party America, anywhere that had cheap or clearanced things that fit our color scheme. The end result was perfect. The downside is that we bought too many decorations, a lot wasn’t able to get used, and my mom was a little unhappy that all of her things weren’t put out.
DJ: Friend, B
A month before the wedding we realized that we were way overbudget and still didn’t have anyone to do music. We’d kind of planned on just using an iPod, but hadn’t done anything with that. A friend’s little brother offered, and we tentatively ran with it. He did pretty well for being paid in beer, pizza and a $20 tip. He honored my request to not play the Chicken Dance, but some of the files he downloaded supposedly didn’t work, so he didn’t play a lot of the music I’d asked for.
Flowers: Mother-in-Law, A
She bought plain red long-stem roses and made my bouquet, a bouquet to toss, centerpiece accents and boutonnières for about $100. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
I am a little horrified at times to admit that apparently my dream wedding costs about $9K. The good news is that we are not a single penny in debt due to good savings and two wonderful sets of parents. We did pay for about two-thirds of it ourselves.
The wedding cake was round, three tiers, silver, black scrolling and 100% pure awesome. They did exactly what we told them to, and it came out even better than we expected. The groom’s cake had the Zelda Triforce on it, and they decorators went above and beyond what we asked of them. The only downside is that we spent $780 on cake and only half of it was eaten.
Food: Minsky’s Pizza, A
Who says you can’t eat pizza at a nice wedding? We ordered about 10 different types of one-topping pizzas including lots of pepperoni, and vegetarian options like black olive and artichoke. Again, we did order too much and had lots of leftovers. At the end of the night, we were begging people to take home whole pizzas as “favors.”
Drinks: Bud Light, J. Roget champagne, A
Again, not every part of the wedding needs to be classy. It’s hard not to love cold Bud Light out of a keg, and it’s cheap. We bought two kegs, and just barely tapped the second. We also bought two cases of champagne, but there was little to be found by the end of the reception.
Dress: Allure Bridals from Bridal Extraordinaire, A
I am recommending for the rest of my life that every bride go to Bridal Extraordinaire in Shawnee, Kan., for her dress. It is a little pricier than David’s Bridal, but the dresses are high-quality and the service is unparalleled. I felt like a princess every time I went in there, was never rushed, and left happy every time. On the actual dress shopping day, my mom, future sister-in-law and I sat on a couch in a private room while the owner brought out dresses she thought I would like. And I did like almost every one! I also bought my hair accessory here and used a wonderful tailor the employees recommended. My bridesmaids bought their B2 gowns here as well.
The only downside for some would be that all dresses are in the store only as samples, which are mostly size 10 and 12. An exceptionally small or plus-size bride would have trouble visualizing the dress as it should fit on her, but this is the case at any upscale bridal shop.
Location: Mahaffie Historic Site, Olathe, Kan., A-
Fortunately, the weather on our wedding day was perfect, and worked well for the outdoor wedding on the site’s patio. Mahaffie staff set up and tore down all chairs and tables. They supervised the site all day while other events were going on nearby. My only complaints were on some unprofessionalism by a couple of staff members on the day of the wedding.
Hair: Beauty Brands, Olathe, Kan., A
Although I’m not a fan of national chains for most things, I am completely in love with Beauty Brands, and especially the 119th location. The entire staff working at the time was tending to my wedding party, and they essentially let us take over the whole store as we did our makeup before and after our hair appointments. I love everyone’s hair in the end, and I think everyone was happy with their own updos. I loved my hairstylist so much that I will no longer go to anyone else.
Makeup: Did our own, A-
I did makeup for myself, my mom and two bridesmaids. The other two bridesmaids did their own. Initially, I considered paying someone to do my makeup, but decided it would be cheaper to do my own. Six months of buying and playing with makeup to figure out how to do it right ended up being far more expensive, but the end result is that I now know how to make myself look like a grownup on a daily basis, whereas I never wore makeup before.
There are a few things I’d recommend to anyone doing their own wedding party makeup, though:
• Foundation primer for anyone wearing foundation
• Eye makeup for everyone, with eyeshadow primer underneath
• Black waterproof mascara for everyone
• Have every girl do a test run before the day of, especially those who do not usually wear makeup
Transportation: Did our own, B
Everyone drove themselves, except that my maid of honor chauffeured me during the day and I went home with my new husband. Even in retrospect in a limitless-budget wedding, I would not spring for a limo or other transportation.
We did rent a horse-drawn carriage at Mahaffie to bring the wedding party up to the aisle. It was $200 for two hours, but completely worth it. Guests were able to take carriage rides while the wedding party and family were taking pictures.
Photographer: Angela Needs, Who Needs Photos, Bonner Springs, Mo., TBA
We LOVE our wedding photos, LOVE our photographer as a person, and can’t wait to get our proofs back this weekend. So far she’s an A+, but the official verdict still isn’t in.
I originally planned to ask a friend of a friend to take photos, but after talking to a couple people who still cry thinking about how mediocre their photos are, we sprung the $1,200 for a photographer we fell in love with at a bridal show in Overland Park.
Decorating: Moms, A
My and Grant’s moms bought wedding decorations here and there from WalMart, Kohl’s, Target, Party America, anywhere that had cheap or clearanced things that fit our color scheme. The end result was perfect. The downside is that we bought too many decorations, a lot wasn’t able to get used, and my mom was a little unhappy that all of her things weren’t put out.
DJ: Friend, B
A month before the wedding we realized that we were way overbudget and still didn’t have anyone to do music. We’d kind of planned on just using an iPod, but hadn’t done anything with that. A friend’s little brother offered, and we tentatively ran with it. He did pretty well for being paid in beer, pizza and a $20 tip. He honored my request to not play the Chicken Dance, but some of the files he downloaded supposedly didn’t work, so he didn’t play a lot of the music I’d asked for.
Flowers: Mother-in-Law, A
She bought plain red long-stem roses and made my bouquet, a bouquet to toss, centerpiece accents and boutonnières for about $100. I wouldn't have had it any other way.
I am a little horrified at times to admit that apparently my dream wedding costs about $9K. The good news is that we are not a single penny in debt due to good savings and two wonderful sets of parents. We did pay for about two-thirds of it ourselves.
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