I’m not the only person in my workplace to be planning a wedding. One of the guys has about 10 days left till his and I envy him his lower stress level. The weird thing is that he still calls his fiancée his girlfriend. I wonder how long it’ll take his brain to upgrade to “wife.” If it takes more than a few days, I think she’s going to get pissed. Then again, they’ve only been engaged about six months, so they’re not highly trained to say fiancé(e). Unlike me and Kelson. I wonder how long it’ll take us to adjust…..

Ordered it last weekend. It’s got everything: full coverage up top, pretty beading, short train, and it’s not blinding squeaky-clean wash-me-out white. And it’s made for the height I am in my shoes, with an adjustable lace-up back, so with any luck, I won’t need massive alterations. It’s got this split top skirt thing going, with beading along the edges, that I really can’t say why I think is cool. I never thought I’d be one to go for the Disney princess look, but it works. The one offputting note is the beading is blue. Don’t get me wrong, I love blue. I’m probably the only female in America never to have put any thought into her nuptial proceedings beyond some fuzzy mental photos of a church and a white dress, but I know for certain the white blur never had any color on it. Oh well. Just means I don’t have to paint my toenails blue (though I think I will anyway). Now, if we can just get a location so I don’t turn into a dressed-up cliché……

Aaagh. Every time we try to get something going on wedding planning, we find more reasons to scrap the whole thing. Last month we got soured on a whole lot of aspects with one series of tours, and we just managed to get ourselves out of the house on the subject again today.

I had vowed at the beginning of this to avoid David’s, the Wal-Mart of bridal stores, like the plague. However, being this close and having nothing to show for it but a pair of shoes, toasting glasses, and a cake server has begun to freak me out, so I braved the place. I remembered walking in and being accosted by a plethora of pushy, smiley salestwigs who wanted us to try on all sorts of stuff. Not this time. Turns out the place is having a sale, and as a result was completely packed. And sometime between 2000 and 2003, they made appointments mandatory for bridal tryons. So here I am, getting wonderful upper-arm exercise pawing through the racks, trying to get the attention of someone who won’t even take the time to ask if I have an appointment, and nobody bothers to tell me that I need one. For half an hour. So they’re off my list, again.

Then we get home and there’s another piece of paper spam for a hotel offering reception sevices. Since there’s no way my hair could make a standard-time-slot morning wedding on time, we’re looking at afternoon, which means a dinner reception. Their cheapest dinner is $31.95 a plate, not including 19% gratuity and 7.75% sales tax, which makes it $40.97 a person. And depending on what the “chef’s choice” of vegetable might be, Kelson might not be able to eat it. No, thank you.

Vegas is looking pretty and shiny again.