MY WEDDING SHOES ARE HERE!!!

They're so beautiful. I love them. Here's a picture of one side of one shoe, from the website: 

So weird to see this one shoe floating around in all that white space, right? 

They weren't supposed to arrive until July, so this was a nice surprise. And it was a surprise - I had indulged myself by sleeping in, only to be woken by the doorbell. I rolled out of bed in a groggy panic (sometimes the maintenance guy comes by unannounced, which is why I sometimes sleep in yoga pants, to make it seem like I didn't just wake up) but it was just the FedEx lady. She was probably scandalized to find me still in my pajamas and glasses, my hair all puffed-up and insane. "Still in bed at 10:20?" she must have thought. "What a slug-a-bed! I delivered one hundred packages before dawn!" But whatever. She doesn't know my life. 

I haven't had a transcription assignment since the weekend, so I've had nothing to do but run errands, do a little other work and some odds and ends, and plan a wedding. And, sometimes, laze about. But it's nobody's business how I spend my days. I would have told her all that, but the thought of speaking was too exhausting.

Anyway. The shoes.

I love shoes. Unusual ones. I don't own too many, but the ones I do buy are usually interesting. I've had pointy witch-y boots and sandals with balloons tied around the straps and white running shoes that I covered with colorful Sharpie designs. I spent all of eighth grade dressed in black pants rolled up past the ankle, a black tank top, A WHITE BELT, and yellow Converse. In college, because I didn't own snow boots, I tromped around in bright pink rain boots underneath a red winter coat. Now, in my old age, I've settled down into red Keds. My shoes are the only thing I'm never self-conscious about. 

What I'm really trying to say is that I dress myself like a toddler.

I had this pair made (of course, because I'm out of control) by Shoes of Prey. Who woulda thought I'd be unable to find a pair of gold oxfords for sale anywhere on the whole, wide internet? It's all about white satin kitten heels with bows on the front here in Bride Land. I haven't decided if these are just going to be my dancin' shoes or if I'll wear them during the ceremony, too. People keep telling me to wear heels because my legs will look nicer, especially since I'm wearing a tea length dress and I've got the legs of a pygmy, but I kinda like the idea of groovin up the aisle wearing some sweet gold kicks.

At this rate, I'm going to need one million pennies to pay for all these shoes. I'll be in penny debt till I die. They'll send me to the penny shoe poor house or penny debtor's prison. But at least my feet will be CLAD IN GOLD.

Invitation Station

The train's a-pullin' out!

My feud with the postal service continues.* Several of the save the dates didn't quite make it where they were supposed to, which has resulted in a few awkward conversations.

But that's okay! Because the invitations are going out early! All weekend long I was hard at work drawing and re-drawing and painting with watercolors. It's like a kindergarten classroom up in here. I'll post pictures once we've sent them out and it's no longer a surprise, but just know that these invitations are super twee. Almost embarrassingly so.

And I'm determined to get them out early.

It's one thing when you're late getting stuff done behind the scenes, like making table numbers or booking the ceremony spot (WHICH WE STILL HAVE YET TO DO); it's another to procrastinate on things that affect guests' plans, like reserving hotel blocks (which is done, at last! Go gitcher rooms!).

Anyway. The design itself is finished. We just need to:

• High-quality-scan it? Somehow?
• Add text
• Figure out the ceremony place and time, plus rehearsal dinner information
• Send the design to be printed
• Print information cards with the hotel, map, and website
• Add a few RSVP cards for those guests who may be less comfortable using the online form
• Address 100 envelopes
• Maybe add a square of tissue paper, like you see with really fancy invitations? In case people are so overwhelmed with emotion when they open it that they need to wipe a tear away, and - oh, looky here! A tissue! So convenient.
• SEND 'EM

My plan is to send the first batch out to the people who didn't receive save the dates or got them a little later than everyone else, just so they feel extra-important. And if their invitation isn't delivered, then I guess they just weren't meant to be there. Please don't hate us. It's the mailman's fault, that conniving worm.

Or we could just send around an email with this alternate invitation and ask people to respond with a Yes or No:

Whattaya think?

*Is it weird to just casually mention that and not explain it? Whatever. It's a story for another time.