catheroominations

Pardon my French, but in the words of Kirsten Lobe, “Fuckity Fuck Fuck!”

Some background info: Just before Halloween, I ordered my wedding gown. The wedding is in May, I had been told it takes 4 to 6 months to get a dress, and, I was cutting it close by ordering it in October. Joy of joys, the bridal shop told me it would be here by the end of February or the beginning of March. Sweet! That would give me plenty of time for alterations, and if I need to lose some LBs, I’ll have plenty of time to drop the 50 or so I need to (I kid when I’m stressed). They told me they’d call when it arrives. (It should be noted that I do not wait well.)

Well the bridal shop? They don’t follow up so well. I was in the store last month to order bridesmaid dresses and they said my veil and hair “jewelry” had come in, and “didn’t someone call you?” Nope, no one did. But I was too excited to bring home part of my wedding costume to care.

I’ve heard that in most cases, dresses come in before the promise date so just for shits and giggles, I called the shop tonight to see if mine was here yet. Knowing they don’t have a great track record when it comes to calling brides-to-be when their goodies come in, I wouldn’t have been surprised to have been informed that my dress had arrived. What I didn’t expect to hear was:

“Your dress will be in at the end of April.”

Wh-wh-whaaat? Oh, Hell to the no! After I replaced my eyeballs back into their sockets, dusting off the cat hair that stuck to ehm when they popped out and fell onto the floor, I explained to the bridal consultant (very calmly, I might add) that I was told at the time I placed the order that the dress would be here at the beginning of March at the very latest. But no. Seems this “custom length” I ordered would take an additional 6 weeks. Gee. Sure would have been nice to know this before NOW. I do not understand. It takes SIX ADDITIONAL WEEKS to send me less of a dress? (Damn me for being so short!) Do they have to wait for the scissors to arrive at the factory where they make these things? (Note to self: ask boss, who is taking trip to China in two weeks, to bring scissors to bridal gown factory, or grab pieces of dress labeled Catheroo and assemble it myself with duct tape.)

Now, you may be saying, “What’s the problem? It’s not like they said it’d get here by the end of May. They said April, which is like a whole month before you marry your Prince Charming!” But in wedding time, it’s not considered one full month, it is known as ONLY ONE MONTH. What will I do if it doesn’t fit right when it gets here? I’ll have ONLY ONE MONTH to get the required alterations on the top, which is made for Pamela Anderson if she got yet another breast enhancement. I’ll have ONLY ONE MONTH (rather than the almost three they promised) to tone whatever extra flesh squishes out the top of the dress in all the wrong places at my first fitting. And ONLY ONE MONTH does not provide me the very large cushion of time I was given, should there be shipping and/or manufacturing delays.

This is where I become schizo. I go from Zen-like, “It’s no big deal” to panicky, “If it’s too tight when it comes in, I’ll never fit into it on my wedding day!” to rational “Stop with the ifs already. How about ‘what if it comes in early?'” to prepared “Better start looking for a possible back-up!”

UGH.

In the end, really, it does not matter. I have friends. Married friends with dresses. Dresses they wore one day and now live in the closet forever. It’s just a dress.

But.

It’s my Gotdamn dress. And it’s my Gotdamn wedding and I want my Gotdamn wedding dress to look nice and fit me correctly on the day I get married!

Gotdammnit!

***Updated***
Oh, and I almost forgot about the delivery of the bridesmaid dresses. In December, I was told they’d be here in 6 to 8 weeks. Today they said the dresses would be here the first week in April. Uhm, I’m no math genius, but I think that’s more like 6+8 weeks.

When we were visiting my parents for Thanksgiving, my mom gave me a comic she’d saved for me since it appeared in the October 1 comics section. It’s a “Close to Home” comic that depicts a wedding ceremony. The preacher-type person (who appears to be in pajamas) is standing between the bride and groom, who are both seated at small desks, typing away on their computer keyboards. The preacher is saying something about the couple sealing their marriage by Googling one another.

Ha. Yeah. That’s funny. I guess my mom thinks Matte and I spend a lot of time on our computers. I don’t see why she would think that. Weird.

Although I snickered and appreciated the sentiment, the comic doesn’t really suit our style. Our wedding won’t be like that, with the Googling. No way. That’s totally not us.

At our wedding, Matte and I will be seated with our laptops, which will be projected on two large screens, his Dell projected above his head and my superior PowerBook above my tiara-bedecked head. Our guests will watch, wiping away their tears of joy, as we IM our vows, complete with emoticons.

I signed up for Bootcamp. Not the military type, the exercise type. For three weeks, five days a week, I will rise at 5:30 am, brave the cold, damp air, and join other bootcamp cadets (read: crazy people) for an hour of torture exercise. And I will arrive on time each day because if I do not, it’s 20 burpies for me. If you don’t know what burpies are, they’re somewhat like push-ups on steroids. And I loathe burpies. So I will not be late.

You may be wondering why am I doing this. You may think I’m a loon for leaving my nice cozy bed before the sun rises and voluntarily participating in cardiovascular exercise and strength training for an hour a day. Couldn’t I just accept the extra pounds that reside on my frame? Learn to embrace my tone-lacking body parts? Couldn’t I just (gasp!) DIET?

No. I need someone to kick my ass or I won’t exercise. I need to be worked. Hard. I want to sweat. I want to be sore the next day, to feel that I’ve done something good for my body. I crave that runner’s high I haven’t experienced in much too long. So these Bootcamp instructors can yell at me. I will do what they say. They can shove my face in the mud and force me to do ten more push-ups, and I will do it. And I will love it. Love it, I tell you!

You see, there’s this dress I bought. It’s a rather expensive dress to wear on a very special day and I want to look hot in it. That means rippling rhombs, tremendous traps, and luscious lats. It means tight triceps and bulging biceps. And I want a big thick football player neck. Add a tiara and you’ve got one slammin’ bride-babe, no?

I’m sure you’ve been waiting at the edge of your seats. “When’s Catheroo gonna talk about wedding plans? I can’t get enough of hearing about wedding plans!”

I’m a people pleaser, so let me give you just a little scoop.

The date of our wedding is May 25, 2007. It’s a Friday night. Apparently Friday evening weddings are “in,” but we didn’t choose it because our finger is on the pulse of wedding planning. We chose it because 1) it was available at the winery we chose, 2) it’s the beginning of Memorial Day weekend, so our anniversary will always be at least near a 3-day weekend, and 3) it’s the beginning of Memorial Day weekend, so our out-of-town guests can enjoy some of Northern California before they need to head home. Although not considered during our planning and only discovered after we booked the date, May 25, 2007 also marks the 30th anniversary of the theatrical release of the somewhat unknown film, Star Wars. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?

We will not be having a Star Wars wedding. R2-D2 will not be our ring bearer. C-3P0 will not be Matte’s best man. Chewbacca will not be our officiant. The ushers will not be Stormtroopers. I will not wear Princess Leia buns on the sides of my head, nor be escorted down the aisle by Darth Vader.

What else should we not have at our non-Star Wars themed wedding?

Matte and I are working on our STDs.*

*STD is theknot.com lingo for Save the Dates. What did you think I meant?

Matte, my fiance (still trying to remember to call him that) is making us a wedding web site. Who says grooms don’t get involved in wedding planning? This is one of the photos Jeff and Jenni took of us at Disney World and I think it’s my favorite one of us ever. I love it because it perfectly captures how happy we are at that moment. I think the only time I will possibly be happier is on May 25, 2007, the day I marry my Prince Charming.

By the way, on the back of the prince’s shirt? It says </GEEK> of course. Must remember to close your html tags.