Yawn, I could do with one more lazy day of weekend.
On Saturday Alan and I went to Athens to inspect a potential wedding venue. It’s a gorgeous old mansion built in 1910, with a huge wide staircase, marble floors, high ceilings...forget getting married there, I want to LIVE there. I particularly liked Robert (president of Jahn Events), the fellow we met with who will be handling everything if that is indeed “The Place”. He projects this aura of absolute competence and calm; he is exactly the sort of person I’d want in charge when some crisis happens and I go on a major freak-out. Nothing's decided yet, though; we’re looking at a couple more places later this week because we want at least three possible options to compare and contrast.
After that, we went to DePalma’s for lunch (wild mushroom bruschetta and marscapone ravioli, lovely!). En route we called Lachele, Nancy and Mark to see if they could meet us. I felt badly giving no one any notice, but we couldn’t plan ahead because we didn’t know how long the wedding meeting would take. Fortunately, everyone was available, at least for a while, so we all hung out, had snacks and great conversation. Saturday afternoon was fabulous, exactly the way I like to spend free time: nice quiet restaurant with great food, nobody rushing us, great friends hanging out and talking, gorgeous weather, nothing in particular to do and nowhere I have to be, the kind of day that makes me very happy. When we left, Nancy took a picture of us and you can tell I’m very happy. I usually hate pictures of me and avoid the camera at all costs, but I like this one.
Sunday we spent a few hours going through our CD collections for reception music. Instead of a live band, we're selecting songs and bands that mean something to us. It may not be the traditional thing, but we’re SO not “Top 40" people. If you long to hear Celine’s “My Heart Will Go On” or Whitney’s “I Will Always Love You”, our reception’s not the place to be. Led Zeppelin’s “Thank You” and King Crimson’s “Heartbeat” are my idea of good love songs. Also “One Time” and “Matte Kudasai” by the Crim; however, “The Great Deceiver” was nixed. I have no idea why...maybe Alan felt the opening line “health-food faggot with a bartered bride” just didn’t send the right happy happy joy joy wedding message. Ahem.
Last night I’m on the phone with my brother, a professional classical musician who’s working on the arrangement for my processional. He told me he was a little worried about the piece I want being too short and, while of course he can loop and play it over as many times as necessary, he’s worried that its brevity will mean it has to repeat too many times to sound good “unless you're planning to sprint down the aisle - and rushing down is probably a bad idea; we both know you'll bust ass". My brother, instilling sisterly confidence since 1975.
Of course, he's 100% right about my potential for pulling a serious bust-ass and that's why I'm wearing my Doc Martens instead of high-heeled strappy sandals. Hey, they're white. And they'll qualify as my 'something old'. Heh heh, now everyone step back and watch my mother's head asplode...
On Saturday Alan and I went to Athens to inspect a potential wedding venue. It’s a gorgeous old mansion built in 1910, with a huge wide staircase, marble floors, high ceilings...forget getting married there, I want to LIVE there. I particularly liked Robert (president of Jahn Events), the fellow we met with who will be handling everything if that is indeed “The Place”. He projects this aura of absolute competence and calm; he is exactly the sort of person I’d want in charge when some crisis happens and I go on a major freak-out. Nothing's decided yet, though; we’re looking at a couple more places later this week because we want at least three possible options to compare and contrast.
After that, we went to DePalma’s for lunch (wild mushroom bruschetta and marscapone ravioli, lovely!). En route we called Lachele, Nancy and Mark to see if they could meet us. I felt badly giving no one any notice, but we couldn’t plan ahead because we didn’t know how long the wedding meeting would take. Fortunately, everyone was available, at least for a while, so we all hung out, had snacks and great conversation. Saturday afternoon was fabulous, exactly the way I like to spend free time: nice quiet restaurant with great food, nobody rushing us, great friends hanging out and talking, gorgeous weather, nothing in particular to do and nowhere I have to be, the kind of day that makes me very happy. When we left, Nancy took a picture of us and you can tell I’m very happy. I usually hate pictures of me and avoid the camera at all costs, but I like this one.
Sunday we spent a few hours going through our CD collections for reception music. Instead of a live band, we're selecting songs and bands that mean something to us. It may not be the traditional thing, but we’re SO not “Top 40" people. If you long to hear Celine’s “My Heart Will Go On” or Whitney’s “I Will Always Love You”, our reception’s not the place to be. Led Zeppelin’s “Thank You” and King Crimson’s “Heartbeat” are my idea of good love songs. Also “One Time” and “Matte Kudasai” by the Crim; however, “The Great Deceiver” was nixed. I have no idea why...maybe Alan felt the opening line “health-food faggot with a bartered bride” just didn’t send the right happy happy joy joy wedding message. Ahem.
Last night I’m on the phone with my brother, a professional classical musician who’s working on the arrangement for my processional. He told me he was a little worried about the piece I want being too short and, while of course he can loop and play it over as many times as necessary, he’s worried that its brevity will mean it has to repeat too many times to sound good “unless you're planning to sprint down the aisle - and rushing down is probably a bad idea; we both know you'll bust ass". My brother, instilling sisterly confidence since 1975.
Of course, he's 100% right about my potential for pulling a serious bust-ass and that's why I'm wearing my Doc Martens instead of high-heeled strappy sandals. Hey, they're white. And they'll qualify as my 'something old'. Heh heh, now everyone step back and watch my mother's head asplode...
3 Comments:
ooo, you look so happy in the picture!
By
maria, at 1:32 PM
I WANT that picture! And you know good and damn well, you can't wear white shoes until after Easter. (unless they're satin, and your Docs are leather!) I raised you better'n that! heh heh
not asplodin momma
By
Anonymous, at 3:06 PM
Thank you, Maria!
(Guys, just wait. She'll asplode if I wear white shoes before Easter, just watch.)
By
Helly, at 5:02 PM
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