Four Days….

Holy crap–a real blog, you say? I know, I know. It’s astounding. But I thought I’d take the last little bit of downtime I have before embarking upon a weekend of agendas and craziness and purge my thoughts on this whole marriage thing. Essentially, I’ve given up food for coffee and all I’ve wanted to do all week is crawl in a very dark, quiet space and sit, breathing evenly until I absolutely have to emerge.

All week I’ve been psyching myself up for the worst possible things that can happen, which includes barfing at the alter, spilling pasta sauce on my dress, getting a migraine during the ceremony, ripping my dress at the reception, not having enough seating or food for everyone, the DJ not showing up…..you name it. It’s not marrying Forth that I fear, of course–it’s 173 sets of eyes boring into my being for an entire day. Simply put, this wedding weekend will espouse some of my least favorite things: being the center of attention, entertaining a large number of people, making decisions, and gatherings of ten or more. When all of this comes together, I’m afraid I’m going to freak. My mind will self-destruct and I’ll get some sort of a contained anxiety attack. I broke out in hives for the first time last semester while teaching a lesson in my fiction workshop for an hour. Let’s hope this whole ceremony thing won’t be so rashy. Perhaps this will be the first wedding in which the maid of honor holds a puke bucket as well as the bride’s bouquet? If only my mother was on Prozac….I could snag some from her and both our lives would be considerably easier.

Love these family and friends as I might–I can only take so much….eventfulness. The people to talk to, places to be, a schedule to follow, things to take care of, appearances to keep—I don’t handle this stuff well. The way I see it, I’ll be sort of like a grizzly bear encountered in the woods by unsuspecting hikers: don’t make any sudden movements, speak in calm, quiet tones, and back away slowly before I rip your face off. Or, as Forth put it, I’m the crazy dude with the shotgun ready to blow the heads off a group of innocent bystanders. Something like that.

I’m extremely socially retarded in the first place—I can’t imagine how awkward and maladjusted I’ll be as a bride.

Another extremely narcissistic fear I have is bad eyeshadow. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’m going for the darker eye thing and whenever I do that, it usually all smudges and bleeds into the bags under my eyes and I look like I’m all trashy and strung out—-and that’s when I’m NOT drinking. As I’ve mentioned before, since I’m not feeling very intelligent these days, I make it a point to try and look good. So now that the day when I have to look THE BEST EVER is upon us, the pressure is on. Today I gave into my vanity and went to Sephora for a $38 smoky eye kit with supposedly smudge and crease resistant colors, a very detailed how-to manual, and professional tools. Plus it’s all compact enough to stash in my purse for touch-ups. We’ll see what happens though. Perhaps the professionally done hair and big white dress will help?

Wish us luck, and Forth and Back will get back to you soon as this shit is over…..as a married couple with absolutely no plans for children within the next 5-10 years.

**Back.