Painting the Roses Red: Bridezilla Emerges

I spent so much of the wedding planning process trying not to be a Bridezilla, and like to think that I was--on the whole--quite successful. But (you knew there had to be a 'but'), I must admit, in the end, I too tore through Tokyo on a rampage. The cause? Fake lemons. I'm slightly ashamed to admit it, but those damn plastic fruit were my undoing, and I just cracked--CRACKED!

You have seen the fantastic archway that Daddy Goodlaff built, but I haven't shared with you how I wanted to decorate it. So, here it is. The local craft store, aka: the bad place, had this fantastic arch set up, and I loved the way it looked. Overdone? A bit. But on the whole, quite lovely.

Beginning of the End...

Where to start? So much has happened in the last few weeks, and with so much to tell you, I hardly know where to begin.  Then again, I suppose I shall begin, as most stories do, at the beginning. 

There is only one word to describe the week before the wedding: mayhem.  It was complete and total mayhem (and sometimes it felt like a cluster-you-know-what).  My To-Do list had grown longer and longer and I even threw in a few last-minute projects because I happen to be totally insane.

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For my bride friends out there that haven't yet gotten married, my advice is this: at the very least, take off the week before the wedding.  Trust me--you'll need it. 

 See, I thought I'd have a lovely, relaxing week of sleeping in a bit and resting up in anticipation of the big day. Not so much.  The Monday of my wedding prep week began with me waking up to construction workers out on the deck, using chainsaws and hammers to tear down our rotting porches. Hearing construction noise all day only makes you want to destroy something, and with all the banging and sawing and screeching tools, more than once I was tempted to break the window and tell them to stop working so that I could zen out on my West Wing DVD's.

My week, in a nutshell: Monday night, Mr. Goodlaff and I finally wrote our ceremony (everything except our vows) and sent it off to Houdini for approval and preparation.  Tuesday we decided we wanted to have wedding programs (add it to the list...).  On Wednesday I realized that we had forgotten to buy champagne and soda (add it to the list).  Thursday we had to buy dirt, went to Home Depot, discovered they were sold out, and had to drive 45 minutes to the next store to get grass for the pinwheel escort card display.  Friday was all about flower arranging and my Bachelorette party, and by that time, I would have welcomed a lobotomy.  We didn't decide to rehearse on Saturday night until late Saturday morning...

No More Questions

"What about this?"
"What do you want to do for tables?"
"How about breakfast?"
"Where are you getting ready?"
"What are you wearing?"

Unsurprisingly, I had a bit of a temper tantrum the other day.  I've been asked so many damn questions about what I want, and how I want things, and what we're doing, that I could just kick something.  The frustrating thing is that I don't have answers to some of these questions, so my answer is often: "I don't know," which just makes me more upset because, by now I should really know the answer to these questions.

I'm at the end of my question-tolerant rope.  The last weeks of planning a wedding are like having about 30 toddlers constantly asking questions--a chorus of the five "W's": Who? What? Where? When? Why?  So during my temper tantrum I told my co-workers (only half-joking) that I want people to leave me alone and stop asking me questions; I've had it up to here with questions.  "No More Questions," I kept repeating over and over.  I've decided it's my new motto, which I have since explained to Mama Goodlaff, The Enforcer, and BM TCollins as well.

After a morning full of wedding question answering (people are not listening to me!), I came back from lunch yesterday to find this on my desk:

The most beautiful Barbie Bride cake, ever, touting my new motto!  There's really nothing better than a Barbie Cake to lighten my mood, and I just had to laugh at the surprise my co-workers were able to spring on me.

The Final Countdown

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Today is one month until our wedding. The excitement is building! And I'm desperately trying to ward off the wave of panic and hysteria sweeping in.  One month from today I will be a wife. A wife!

Omigod, there's so, so much to do. Where did all that time go?

Let me tell you: right now, being inside my own head is almost unbearable. I've always been a stream-of-consciousness thinker--ooh, shiny!--but right now there are about seven thousand things crashing around inside my brain, clamoring for attention. I'm not gonna lie: some of those things are being moved to the bottom of the list of things I care about.

Here's a snippet of my brain for about twenty seconds this morning: Yay! I'm marrying Mr. Goodlaff!  I need to make sure the wedding has the best possible chance of being a success: favors need to be finished, thank you's must be sent, decor is finally all purchased. The seamstress needs to give me a call.  Why hasn't she called yet? Why aren't people sending in their #£<\@!?$& RSVP cards (is it really that hard?)? I'm marrying Mr. Goodlaff! I haven't been too good about breaking in my shoes; is this what insanity feels like? Should I get a wedding manicure? I want a sandwich. Where did the time go? I wonder how soon after the wedding can we move to Seattle? I'm getting married!  asdk;lhjsdfh;lahsdfh;lj;lkf'alsdffahhhh.......

As you can see, the sanity is pretty much gone, and I have to admit, if it's not wedding related, I probably couldn't care less about it--whatever "it" is. I officially have bridal brain.

On a positive note, my sanity will be restored in approximately one month.  Um, okay, so I never really had it to begin with, therefore it's not really coming back, but at least I will be able to think of things other than shoes, decor, rings, white dresses, and tulle soon!

I really am beyond excited to marry Mr. Goodlaff, and I can't wait to dig in and make this final push.  We still have so much to do (like write the ceremony?), but it's so fun seeing it all come together knowing that everything is going to be so awesome and at the end of the day, I will be marrying my best friend. 

Wish me luck as we begin the countdown to our wedding!

A Case of the Bridal Crazies

Planning a wedding is all puppy dogs and rainbows. Before you really get into it there is nothing more exciting than the prospect of picking out the color of the napkins, the perfect dress, and making a guest list. Then, one day, you realize that the dog bites and constantly craps all over your floor, and that the rain prior to the rainbow is not a light mist, but actually sheets of pelting, torrential rain similar to the kind that causes mudslides in China.

Please forgive me. I'm not trying to hate on the planning process, I'm just suffering from a case of the bridal crazies...

Put. The Chair. Down.

Bridal Crazies: when wedding planning insanity strikes down perfectly good people; i.e. insufficient supplies for making table numbers at the store causes a mini hissy fit; lack of enthusiasm for yellow shoes causes you to see red; lights for wedding decor at a reasonable price cannot be found anywhere, so you consider taking up glass blowing and learning the art of electrical wiring so you can make them yourself; when everything matters about 7000 times more than it does in real life because it's for your wedding.

People who succumb to the Bridal Crazies are different from Bridezillas because they still retain vestiges of niceness and can recognize that they've gone batshit crazy.  Bridezillas can't or won't acknowledge their insanity and tend to be kinda mean. Big difference.