But I Might Need Some Kind Of Girdle

I know. I haven't written much lately. It's not because I've failed to do or say anything stupid for the past few days. Believe me. It's just that I've been stuck inside my head lately.

"Oh wow. I've always wondered what it's like in there," you say.

'Tis a silly place.

My brain is a simple machine that's impossible to use because of the addition of complex features, like a can opener that's voice activated and solar powered. And worse, someone's gone and sprinkled glitter all over the whole thing and there seems to be chunky peanut butter clogging up the gears and cranks.

It's like that.

But anyway the reason for being stuck in my head is because I'm in the early stages of planning our wedding. Believe me, I didn't think that a mere 3 weeks into the engagement I'd be pulling my hair out and feeling overwhelmed.

I just can't help myself I guess.

Frankly, I'm a little annoyed with myself. I'd always thought I was the running-off-to-Vegas-to-elope kinda gal. But the second I had a ring on my finger and getting married was an actual thing, not only did I want a wedding, but instantaneously my head was filled with a hundred different, conflicting, and impossible to carry out ideas of what this wedding would be.

And it all begins with Setting The Date. I guess. I gathered that this was a very important thing for us to do immediately because everyone started asking.

It is, "Congratulations. When?"

I had the urge to arbitrarily just pick a date in the future, but then worried that some industrious person would take it upon themselves to write this date in a planner and make it all official.

So there still is no date. And no location. We don't even know which coast yet. I've changed my mind again and again about everything. And apparently you are supposed to pick out a color palette. Oh, and one other thing I hadn't anticipated- evidently, everything costs money. Did you know this?

Still, with all of this planning and decision-making to do, I can proudly say that I do have at least one thing checked off my list.

For some stupid reason, I already have a dress.

I didn't mean to do this all out of order. I blame downtime at work. Previously, I spent it always reading (and writing) blogs. Now a woman inconceivably possessed, I spend this time perusing wedding websites looking for centerpiece ideas (I'm thinking candles, not flowers) and bridesmaids dresses that didn't make me want to vomit (there are none).

It was during one such wedding quest that I started looking at pictures of wedding gowns. And that's when I found my dress. It was simple and beautiful. It was precisely what I always wanted. And it was on sale this month only.

I bookmarked the webpage and put it out of my mind. Then I went back and looked again. And again. Then I sent the picture to Anne, and my sister and to a poor coworker who was simply trying to get a drink from the water cooler next to my desk.

But no! I mustn't buy a dress already. I don't even have the date yet!

Then I found the justification.

Because Anne is moving to Brooklyn at the end of the summer (abandoning me! unimaginable horror), I thought that perhaps I better do at least one planning activity with her before it's too late.

And so I made an appointment to meet the dress. Anne and Kesila joined me. Well, they were both stuck in traffic and 15 minutes late, and by that point I'd already tried on the dress. It was perfect. Slim, flattering. I didn't feel like taking it off and putting it back on again, so the dress and I waited for my friends. I wandered around looking like quite the sad, directionless bride until they finally arrived.

They agreed the dress was perfect. They also agreed that while we were at it, I may as well try on some others. And this meant that, if only for their amusement, I would try on at least one poofy dress.

Oh, the poofy dress. I looked around and all of the other brides-to-be were standing in dresses that belled out from the waste. They all looked adorable, really. But I just couldn't bring myself put something on that was so...so big.

While I was changing out of one of the less sizeable options, my friends rummaged through the aisles and produced a strapless (strike one), sequin embroidered (strike two) gown with an enormous skirt with big poofy layers (strike three).

Rolling my eyes, I dragged this masterpiece into the dressing room and navigated my way through the material. When I stepped out, and stood before the mirror, I was shocked to find that I sort of, kind of, liked it. But why?! It's just ridiculous. When I confessed that I felt very pretty, Kesila assured me that my wedding day was the day to be extravagant. I looked to Anne for a second opinion. She was laughing to herself and floofing some of the lower layers of the gown.

Well that settled it. Back to the original dress. Poofy was officially out of the question.

Knowing that I was already over the dress-shopping stage, and realizing that my boobs looked good in the lovely dress I'd wanted from the start, I decided practicality be damned! I was going to get that dress.

And so I did. And so it sits in my closet just waiting for it's big debut. Whenever I set a date.