Ya know what that makes April? Hell Month... and I'm right in the milky center of a poison dart frog's slick little pores. (no comments on the anology please)
The first weekend in April was Easter weekend, not particularly interesting just very busy. Dinners and such with family and such. Fast forward to the second weekend in April, ie this past weekend. ie the beginning of the end of quickly shortening little rope.
The photographer. Have I ever been so excited about pictures? No. I was dancing all last week and letting everyone know about my impending meeting with my perfect photographer. The criteria (in order of my priorities):
A) Slightly offbeat, detail oriented, artistic style without being too artsy. I want pictures of the little details that I am working so hard on and very few posed. (Check!)
B) Photojournalistic style. Capture the day as it unfolds... telling the story not just taking random "pretty" pictures. (Super check!)
C) Fits within budget (Checkety check!)
**Added bonus... they actually come in under budget with an option of an extra Photographer to follow boyface while he is getting ready that brings it just to the budget mark. Sweet deal mes amies!!
However... something familiar and annoying came up. "So what time is the wedding?" the photographer innocently asks.
"3:00" I asnwer, clenching my teeth and waiting, waiting, waiting.
"Well... 2:30." the voice comes from behind me. Ah my mother... when she really picks something to be stubborn about, she sticks to her guns. I'm going to kill her.
Embarassingly enough, we did actually go back and forth a few times right in front of the photographer. "3:00" "2:30" "3:00" "2:30". Why two grown women can't find the time to argue about these things not in front of ther people, I don't know. I'm going to kill her.
Regardless, we leave, contract in hand talking about how quickly we're going to sign it and send it back. Just in case you're wondering, nothing fatal has happened to the photography part of the the wedding (yet) what insues has nothing to do with my awesome photorapher... and isn't terribly bad either. Just exhausting.
My mother decides that yes, my grandmother (who is visiting from back home) needs to see Georgetown on a beautiful spring Saturday at peak time during the last weekend of the Cherry Blossom festival. (In case you do not know this... all of those factors equal flaming horrible death type traffic) So... we sat. In the car. For probably two hours.
Arrive home, talk to Future Mother in Law who took boyface to lunch. Say goodbye. Nearly throw up because I haven't eaten all day. Clean kitchen instead of eating because we have friends coming over. Greet friends, talk for awhile, make iced tea instead of eating. Begin putting together new hutch instead of eating or playing game with friends.
Yes, I finally did eat. We ordered wings and other non-diet related food products. All of that avoiding food will take it out of you, let me tell you.
Sunday was a Mary Kay free pampering session in the morning. And then of course because I am with Ms MoH and her sister we end up coming back to my apartment and eating cheese and drinking wine. We really can't be seen together without wine and cheese being broken out and consumed. It's fun... but counterproductive even after eating nothing but salad all week. Honestly... I wouldn't trade it... :D
And then, it's the hockey game (which we lost... which ends the season for us. Boyface's team won. They get to go to the playoffs. Good for him) And then... it's dinner at my parents house because my grandparents are in town. All in all we had 8 people and four dogs. You couldn't throw a cream puff without hitting a dog. But they sleep better afterwards.
I think it took me longer to write all that than the weekend actually felt. And to tell you the truth I'm hopping excited just to go home tonight and spend time with the boy. I also have a pantry to put together... and we are talking chicken tacos.
Maybe this weekend wouldn't have been so exhausting if it weren't for the knowledge that next weekend is going to be just as bad, and so is the next. Appointments and other people's weddings... but I'm trying to concentrate on being excited to do these things and that I'll never get to do them again. I guess my couch is a small price to pay for such experiences.
BTW - I am attempting to put together a card box out of shoe boxes... the DIY that inspired me to take on this project used hatboxes. But I can't find hat boxes and lord knows I have enough shoe boxes to build a fairly spacious castle for 10 year old (I do love shoes)... However my camera is broken so pictures may be... off of my cell phone and therefore terrible.
We shall see...
I'm done with my babble for the day
-Bo. J.
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