Wedding Blog

There were so many loose ends to tie up on the day before the wedding. Even with my extensive planning-ahead and persistence on doing as many things as early as possible, “real life” in the form of ’mandatory’ family events interceded in the weeks before the wedding and threw me off schedule. So there I was on the day before the wedding, with not enough time to do anything, saying, “whatever,” and, “I don’t care,” and, “don’t bother me with this anymore.” I was one grumpy-cake, and were I to do it again, I would:

a) be nicer

b) put my foot down and say “no,” knowing that not going to events would stress me out far less than having a bunch of un-finished items on the to-do list would.

c) finish as many items on my to-do list even EARLIER, so that I could take some time to relax in the week before the wedding. And sleep. I didn’t get any of that.

So, mini-rant aside, where was I? Ah yes, being tired and grumpy on the day before the wedding. I have no recollection of what I actually did on the day before the wedding, I was that busy.

Did I see Mr. Shortcake? I don’t even remember. The day passed in a blur of lists and boxes and tears, and by the time night rolled around, I had broken down into a sobbing mess.

“I don’t want to get married anymore… can’t we just elope?” *sob*

My family comforted me with thoughts that it would all soon be over and everything would go back to normal. You know you’re too stressed when people tell you to think positively, and that there is “less than a day until the wedding is over”!

I don’t remember what we ate for dinner that night. I think maybe we went out for sushi, only because we do that a lot in my family. Afterward, I practiced yogic deep breathing and tried to relax, but I was a tightly-wound e-string and the tuning on my life still wasn’t quite right.

Bed-time arrived. I dressed into my pyjamas, and crawled into my parents’ bed (they were sleeping on the futon downstairs so that I could use the bedroom the following morning). I was a puffy-eyed, snotty mess, and I was sincerely hoping that I would wake up and it would be October fifth - not October fourth. Miserable and feeling sorry for myself, I closed my eyes. And opened them with a start—my two sisters had climbed in on either side of me for an impromptu sleepover!

That night I didn’t get a lot of sleep, but it wasn’t because I was worrying, or because I was hand-sewing thirty felt birds. It was because my sisters made it their mission to make me laugh myself out of the blues! We talked about random, ridiculous things that had happened in our lives, and laughed until we became hysterical and were gasping for breath. For once my parents didn’t bang on the door, yelling, “Keep it down! We’re trying to sleep!” - I think they realized that laughter would be a sweet tonic to me, too.

The alarm went off at 5:00 AM. I had had less than two hours of sleep. It didn’t feel like my wedding day—I wasn’t excited, or nervous, or even unhappy. I was totally neutral, as if I were on auto-pilot. Things had to get done, and by golly, they were going to get done right.

I took a shower and dressed in a pair of Lululemon yoga pants and my DIY “bride” tank top, then woke up my still-slumbering sisters. I don’t think they felt like it was the wedding day either—what from the groans and the thrown pillows and the groggy, “Huhs?” they were giving me! Sister Shortcake got up, consulted the itinerary, and went downstairs to make breakfast. Youngest Sister Shortcake got up, took a shower, and then started to work on my hair.

(picture of my last hair trial with my sister a couple of days before)

While she was showering, I had taken the liberty of putting on a playlist of our favourite Disney songs. We’re all huge fans of singing in my family, so we sang ourselves awake!

Sister Shortcake joined us, bringing plates of homemade wedding crepes. What are wedding crepes, you ask? They’re crepes made with love, on a wedding day!

Did you notice the whipped cream and strawberry heart? Yummy!

After Youngest Sister Shortcake finished my hair, I set to work on Sister Shortcake’s updo, as YSS had to leave for her salon appointment. Poor Sister Shortcake has enough hair for several villages, so it was an uphill battle trying to do her hair, what with me having no official hairdressing skills, and her having resistantly huge hair. We tried though, and after one crying jag (not me for once!), decided to leave it as is, and fix it when we got back from our appointment at M.A.C.

Edward-Hair-Accessory-Hands!

It was time to leave for our makeup appointment. Note to self: Make sure that the person driving you knows where M.A.C. is.

When we finally arrived, we were ten minutes late. Luckily, Olga and her team were still willing to help us. Luckily Olga is a genius—my face had broken out in the weeks before the wedding, and I had little brown spots all over. You can’t even tell!

Olga, I heart you.

Because I was the BRIDE I got to have the special back room. Sister Shortcake, being a peasant, had to have her makeup done on the floor. (Joking, hehe)

My father was being our paparrazzi for the morning, and was skulking around the front of the store, crouching and hiding behind counters to get different shots. Sister Shortcake’s makeup artist noticed, and whispered to my sister,

“I don’t mean to scare you, but there’s a man outside taking pictures of you!”

HAHA!

After that confusion was cleared up and our pretty faces were applied, we picked up some lipsticks and blotting powder for the road. Our father had disappeared into the mall, so as we waited by the car we vogued for my camera.

Look in between us in this next photo - apparently we weren’t the only ones who thought we looked HAWWT!

Hah! Stalker!

We finally found our father, and once in the car I made up a rule: As long as no one said the “R” word, it wouldn’t rain on our wedding day. Things looked promising—a patch of blue sky even opened up as we entered Langley. I smiled. Perhaps things would work out, after all.