Entering the Home Stretch
With the wedding nearly here, IP and I have been tying up a lot of loose ends on the small details. Yesterday we spent our entire walk around the neighborhood (a total of close to three miles) talking about the wedding. That, my friends, is a lot of wedding talk. And that didn’t even include the photo discussion we had when we got back to the apartment.
However, a summary of what we’ve done that’s wedding related:
1) I was told by my makeup artist to find a day foundation at a M.A.C or Estée Lauder counter; she apparently always advises this because even though her makeup arsenal is huge, it doesn’t cover every shade and I should get one just in case. I liked this idea given that a) I know nothing about makeup and 2) I couldn’t begin to tell her what my preferred shade is. So off I go to the M.A.C counter at the Wheaton Mall, IP in tow. We finally arrive at said M.A.C counter in Macy’s and music is blaring, a bunch of sort of New Wave (Straight Edge? Gothic?) makeup artists are running around, giving people makeovers and commenting loudly on their work gossip. IP goes into mall overload; he quickly decides that waiting outside is his best option and flees, leaving me defenseless in this scene from a bad Project Runway episode (and wondering whether I should’ve gone to the comparatively calmer Estée Lauder counter). However, the makeup artist at the counter was helpful and relatively quick—she narrowed me down to two shades and applied one on each half of my face. And lo and behold, I am fucking pale, at least by my preconceived notions of myself. I’m what’s called morena in Mexico, yet I’m on a pretty low end of the M.A.C. foundation spectrum. And this is me with some sun on my face after a nice walk yesterday (I tan very quickly). Not being able to figure this out before is probably a symptom of having grown up in Saline—everyone there made me feel so damn bad for not being blonde that my view of my skin color was totally skewed. Add in healthy skin and no need to wear makeup, and you’re a makeup idiot for life. When I finally emerged from Macy’s, IP asked if they had even tested anything out on me, so that bodes well—I had two different shades on but he didn’t notice until I pointed it out. Natural look for wedding, here I come. But holy shit, is M.A.C crap expensive.
2) The little paper DIY details are starting to get finalized. First off are escort cards; I DIY’d one for IP and he loved it (except my handwriting; these will obviously be printed, though). They’re basically your standard escort cards from Paper Source with a strip of interesting paper on the left-hand side; no biggie, but the paper makes the card pop. I then realized that I’d never ordered paper for the reserved signs at the ceremony, so that stuff should be coming soon; it’s too bad I don’t have those materials already in hand because I could definitely get it done before my business trip. Same deal with the “Thank You” signs I’m making. Our table numbers, which are awesome and reflect us as a couple and look pretty damn good (if I do say so myself) are done and packed and ready to head to Michigan. I’m supposed to DIY bathroom baskets, but at this point I’m unmotivated. Bite me, The Knot. I’d never even seen those until you came into being. My mom and sister have mentioned them countless times, though, so if they want to do it, they’re welcome to. The only other thing I might tackle in Michigan once we get there and can actually gauge the weather? Some hand fans. Maybe.
3) The cake and the flowers are paid off; up next are the day-of coordinator, DJ and photographer. I can’t post pictures because it might give my identity away, but my flowers are fucking awesome. How is it that I know that they are? Well, they’re made and on their way to my parents’ house as I type. And nope, they’re not silk. They’ve gotten some attention on message boards and on Facebook for being so unique—the artist totally took names and kicked ass. I’m so happy to have worked with her. If looking at the pictures of my flowers ever single day is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.
When will the madness end? Because I don’t want to give away our wedding date, I won’t say exactly, but we’re close. Very, very close.
P.S. Happy Birthday to our car which is a year old today! Hooray!