Sensing my trepidation my Dad said to me, "Penny for your thoughts." This is when the tears threatening to spill over my lids flooded and I burst into sobs in the bridal shop. My mom was off making final arrangements for her dress so my Dad was left standing in the middle of yards and yards of white tulle, satin and lace trying to figure out how to console me as I hid my face in his shirt and I assure you sniffed and snotted all over him while dress consultants aplenty pretended not to notice the overly emotional bride to be.
You know what my Dad said? "So you might not have the right dress. You have the right guy don't you?" Just like that, everything was back in perspective.
I still may have hyperventilated my fears to Kristen a few hours later, but we got together, hashed it out and finished my wedding favors over several bottles of Cold Duck that evening. Cold Duck is like the female equivalent of Miller Lite. It's a tasty inexpensive sparkling wine that we adore. Between the talk with my Dad and Kristen, (and poor Newman who happened to call me before I talked to Kristen and got the slightly less hysterical version of my woes and told me I was only panicking because we are getting so close,) I am confident and excited to go get my dress Wednesday night!
Here's what people said Saturday night at Harry Browne's. (I'll include a little commentary. I think people like it.)
NIGHT NOTES ON NAPKINS
Kristen: We're ducked up. (The result of too much Cold Duck consumption.)
Ian: You've underestimated my sneakiness.
Ian: You're like a three headed, six-eyed monster of trust. (Kristen, Katie and me trying to stare down and influence Ian.)
Katie: Gravity happens. (Ian fell. On purpose. Probably.)
Julie: What happened?
Kristen: I laughed a little too hard. (Spilled beverage on Kristen's knee)
Ian: Julie? The one with the crazy finger? (Apparently, my fingers are extra bendy in some places. Apparently)
Eric: What the f@%$! That's some Blair Witch $#@t!! (Again, in regard to my fingers. I'm starting to get a complex here!)
Julie: I wonder if she feels threatened?
Katie: Well now she has the smelly girl and the #*$ girl. (Katie and me gossiping "Mean Girl" style in regard to insecure women who are easily intimidated. By us. )