Yesterday was busy. Sorry for the abandonment, Blogland. I was pulling things together and pulling bobby pins out of my hair.
I went for a practice round with my wedding hair guy and it was a disappointment. And by disappointment, I of course mean disaster. I would say the problem was a clash of visions but it was really just a CRASH. I got home, looked in the mirror and realized my hair looked like I had just been to the gym. And if that is going to be my wedding hair, I might as well be sponsored by Nike.
So scratch that.
I have some fantastic bridesmaids that are going to help me out and make it work and we'll play my favorite game, "Skip the middleman."
But on a much better and excited side of the same day, Paul and I traveled downtown and got our marriage license. I have to say, the County Clerk/Recorder's office is not the fanciest building on the block and the energy in the room was downright sad, but we were happy. We even got to raise our right hand and swear that the information we provided (our names and birth dates) was true. In the sincerity of the moment, I became paranoid that I had put that I was born in 1885 or something. (I hadn't.)
So. Two more lines on the to-do list crossed out.
Three weeks to go. We're rolling. And we are now legal. And when this is all said and done, I'll have to share photos of the hairstyle flop.
