respond... please?

A week of mail later, four response cards have made their way home. Some with messages, which is so fun! Thanks for playing along, friends!
DJ's parents were first, with a simple "We love you!" written on the back. (We love you too!) In the same batch of mail were friends of theirs, also a yes. Friday there were two more, both in haiku!

My older-younger brother, Kid A, wrote:
Pretty autumn fest
Friendly Reilly on a leash
Hide the cake and guests

(Because my surly dog is scared of people and will eat anything at all.) Well done, Kid A.

Our friends who are participating in the ceremony became our friends through the guys' love of strategic board games. In boy handwriting:
Like all his geek friends,
DJ is marrying a girl
Way out of his league.

Aww, thanks. But no, DJ is definitely getting the wrong end of this deal. He's marrying the kind of girl who likes to tell the internet about her mail haul.

I'm going to save these somehow, but I'm still thinking about exactly how. Any ideas?

time lapse cartography

In November EAD held a DIY contest, and E. encouraged me to enter my invitations, still in progress. Oh sure, I said, If I finish them soon! E., I totally did not finish them soon. Ladies- (And gentlemen? If you include DJ and one brother) I finished printing the maps on July 17, the night before we mailed them. Expert procrastinator. Hey E., can I enter now??

Blurry in crucial places. Silly. Half of you know exactly where I live, but you know. The INTERNET.

They're a hot Gocco'ed mess of not-a-graphic-designer, but I'm pretty happy with how they came out. I had a fabulous time making them and they have all the pertinent information, so... success!

burying the lead

On Saturday DJ and I went back to the place I lived when we started dating, to buy paper and lunch. Trivia: DJ had never eaten Pad Thai until I carted it across the suburbs from this restaurant, and now he's a convert. They also have watermelon freezes that are utterly worth the sugar buzz and treadmill penance. A few years ago DJ was helping me to repaint my single-girl apartment during a May heat wave, and we drank two each in a single day. Isn't it funny, the things that become fond memories?
Also, we mailed the wedding invitations today. I packaged, DJ sealed. (He washed his tongue first. Go on, laugh. I did.) I'd resigned myself to machine cancelling, because a) it doesn't really matter and b) it wasn't worth the PO fight. But the post office lady loved the envelopes and calligraphy, so I didn't say a thing when she started hand-cancelling.

It was hard to let them go. I am a saver and a keeper, so it was hard for me to hand over Amy's envelopes. Even if that was the whole point. Go on, laugh. I did.

check in, check out

I don't know what to think about the guest book, as a concept. I'm a very visual person (have to see it, have to touch it) so I like things in writing, books, pictures, stuff. A guest book with pictures seems like the perfect place to write something nice - and bonus, it's there to read later. But it's also a lot of pressure, as a guest, to come up with the perfect thing to say after you've already exhausted yourself on the card.
So while I love the stuff aspect of our photo guestbook, I have to admit that I don't think our guests will care so much. For them it's the last trial before the bar.

Still, I am in love with the stuff, story of my closets. Silver tray from my grandma, picture frame from Kim, thrifted crystal frippery, Blurb book of engagement pictures (still needing library pockets), and library checkout cards for notes.

Do you feel differently about the guestbook as a guest than as a bride? Did you do anything to make it more interesting for your guests?

Julia Gets Her Comeuppance

Some of you may remember way back at the beginning of the blog, when I decided not to choose dresses for my three bridesmaids. I made a bridesmaid lookbook and was so effing proud of myself for… something. Well, pride goeth before a bridal fail.

One of the dresses was this one. I thought it was a pretty good dress.

A few months went by, and my mom and I went dress shopping. She bought this one, in silver. I thought nothing of it, except that it was a pretty good dress!
At approximately the same moment, Bridesmaid C was looking at the lookbook and thinking she liked the first dress. For a minute I thought that would work, but neither one of them was thrilled about sharing the style. C graciously said she’d keep shopping, even though she would have been totally justified in grouching at me for creating confusion.

A few months went by, and I heard from Bridesmaid M that she’d bought a dress.
This one.
I’d apparently neglected to tell her about my mom. And C. M graciously said she’d keep shopping. So far no one has made a big deal out of my three-dress-pileup, but I'd deserve it if they did.

I think I get the thing about bridesmaids dresses now. You don't choose them so that they match. You choose them so you don’t have to ask anyone to return their dress because your mom is already wearing it.

On the other hand, if you’re looking for matching dresses, apparently that style is quite the winner!

(images from Dillards and Nordstrom)

oh, you shouldn't have!

This invitation came, to my bridal shower. Which I am still nervous about.

But really, isn't that the nicest invitation for a shower? Entirely handmade by DJ's mom and my future sister in law. I know that you brides are noticing the rounded corners. Twelve per invitation, thumbs say ouch. Perfect color coordination, without stepping on the wedding invitations' toes. And the fonts, which are the same ones we used for the wedding invitations.


So, the invitation is awesome. I have a good dress to wear. Any tips on worrying less? I'm a semi-professional worrier, and the wedding stuff is getting the best of me.

somebody loved

A package came this week, full of envelopes. Envelopes addressed by someone else, someone who took a great deal of effort to coordinate her lettering with one of the invitation fonts. Someone I miss very much, and her calligraphy makes me miss her and her husband more. They were my "college parents," bringing me chicken soup with matzo balls when I was sick and scolding me for bad boyfriend choices and inviting me to Jewish holidays even though I'm not at all Jewish. I miss them.

Time is love, and this took some time. The writing is delicious. I'm sure it was done with a nib and ink - you can see where it has depth. Yum.
Look at the whimsical swishes and flair! I don't write this way. This is more than good handwriting.

I'm trying to tell myself that they need to go in the mail. I mean, really. That was the whole point. But they're so pretty, I'd like to keep them all.

Captain Jack

Last week DJ and I met with our officiant. Actually, we took our officiant and his wife out for sushi, since they're our friends. Our friend/officiant always reminds me vaguely of Captain Jack Harkness.
So, Captain Jack. We asked him to do the job partly because of his stage voice, but also because he and his wife seem to like being married.

He's really enthusiastic about officiating, which was surprising and awesome. He already had a tabbed file of ideas, sample ceremony orders, and instructions for obtaining a marriage license. After going through an online ordination process (type credit card, print certificate) he called the Lake County offices to find out what paperwork they needed to legally recognize him.

And... nothing. Apparently unless someone challenges his authority to perform weddings, it's all good. Even better, if at least one of the parties being married believes he has the authority, it's a valid marriage. Cool! I believe, I do.

Anyone else having a friend officiate? Any stories, advice, warnings?

tech unsavvy

Today I learned how to access alt glyphs in Photoshop, but couldn't figure out how to make a grid. So I went back to MS Word. This document is directly ripping off any number of people who've encouraged their guests to share wedding snapshots, so it's not really worth explanation.

But, um. Does anyone know how to do a table in Photoshop CS? Or something that would work like a table? I'd still like to know.

trousseau

The other day my mom asked if I had my wedding night lingerie yet.* She said when I found what I wanted, she'd like to buy it for me. To wear "in case of fire." Oh yes she did.

DJ said that he really didn't want to know what, if anything, my mom bought for our wedding night. I wasn't planning on letting my mom buy anything... but letting DJ fret about it is way too much fun.

So, if you were me, what would you want ::your mom:: to buy for you? Or, you know, not your mom.

(source) - not at all safe for work, but hilarious.

*I always feel like I ought to add "true story" to anything about my mom. Trust me, it's all true. Hi, mom!

sweet, hot, saucy

I've been doing a lot of not-wedding-related stuff. Enjoying the lull before the big checkbook bleed in September. On Friday DJ and I met some friends at the Naperville Rib Fest for some not-wedding-dress-friendly barbeque.
This was half an hour after the gates opened. An hour later it was completely covered with people.

But it's worth it for the barbeque, served pretty much any way you could want it. Dry rubbed, sauce on the side, or swimming in it. Sweet, hot, or brain-searing.

Contemplating the possibility of another bite.
When I asked how much cash I should bring, DJ said that it's the man's place to buy the pork products. Which is a variety of sexism that I find entirely inoffensive.