13 December, 2008

Down the Yellow Brick Road Part I: The night before

I've been assured that my pro pics are almost ready, and that I'll have them in my greedy little paws by late next week. That being the case, I thought I'd start my Wedding Recap with the early bits that weren't documented by Tanja. Because she wasn't there. :-) And it all starts the night before the big day...

I think I already mentioned that despite being surprisingly calm in the lead-up to The Day, I managed to flip out completely the afternoon before. And not about anything specific: everything was ready, boxed, packed and waiting to go; it was just the stress of ten months of planning, and the fear of stuff screwing up the next day that was freaking me out. So, like a total bitch, I yelled at my Dad when he stumbled carrying one of the boxes of wedding paraphernalia downstairs, and then burst into tears. Tears accompanied by huge, heaving sobs that I couldn't calm down. It was like I needed a paper bag to breathe into, or something. Luckily Mr Slippers was there and he put his arms round my shoulders and just stood there behind me, going, "Breathe, slowly, breathe." He's a hero (my hero!) because I wouldn't blame him for being a little afraid of the wedding monster I had just become. Plus I wasn't a pretty sight.

Eventually I calmed down, apologised, and my parents left with a car full of wedding boxes. That was when I was finally able to calm down properly, because all the wedding stuff, everything I'd worked so hard on, was gone. The table names, the candles, the hanging crystal-beaded table listings, the Oscar favours - all that stuff was out of my house and out of my hair. There was nothing else I could do now. I would stand or fall by what I'd done.

Right after my parents left, Mr Ruby Slippers departed for Best Man Slippers' house, where he was going to spend the night. After that, I wouldn't see him until I walked down the aisle the next day. Huge deal...I think I cried some more. At this point I was left by myself for about an hour and a half, because Best Friend RS, who was coming to stay over with me, had to work late because she was taking the next day off. So I busied myself making some roast chicken thighs with roasted potatoes and veggies. Mmmmm. (This sounds more industrious than it actually is, since all roasts require is for you to leave them in the oven for ages, occasionally checking that they're not burning or sticking. I love roasts).

When Best Friend Ruby Slippers arrived, she whipped out her to-do list, I whipped out mine, and we gazed unblinkingly with narrowed eyes at each other over an Ennio Morricone western theme tune. Just kidding. Actually, we took our dinner out to the table in the garden, and proceeded to go through the lists to make sure we had everything and had done everything. I have to say (she preened) that I did very well. I had totally completed and/or packed everything I needed for the next day. My dress and veil were hanging ready upstairs, all my accessories were in a kitbag, along with a change of clothes and undies and shoes, the cooler-box was waiting by the fridge for water and yoghurt to be put in it the next morning, and my clothes for the next morning were picked out and ready. I calmed down even more, knowing that I really HAD done everything humanly and bridally possible to prepare, and all I could do now was enjoy myself.

We then proceeded to watch Father of the Bride (the Steve Martin version, which I much prefer to the Spencer Tracy one. Maybe because I'm not really a fan of Vincente Minnelli). I loved the fact that we did this, because I'd been planning it since I was twelve. How, you ask? Well, at the time I didn't know the whens and hows. But there's a bit in the movie where Annie can't sleep on the eve of her wedding, and goes out and plays basketball with her Dad. Very choky moment, as Steve Martin says: "It's just...I know I'll remember this moment for the rest of my life." And that's when I decided, aged twelve, maybe thirteen, that I was going to watch that movie the night before my wedding...one day. At that age, of course, you KNOW you're going to get married. I must admit I had my doubts in my mid-twenties before I met Mr Ruby Slippers! But, despite that fact that I must have watched this movie at least fifty times, it's never meant more to me than when I managed to keep that promise to myself on the eve of my wedding, and watch it with almost-bride eyes.

Then I decided that the dishes in the sink looked appalling, and I washed them. At 11pm on the night before my wedding. You have to know what a big deal this is, because I am incredibly lazy about doing the dishes. I will leave them as long as I can. So for me to do them that late, on the eve of my wedding...well, that's just not normal. I think I was too pent-up and jittery to sleep, so I did that to calm myseld down with something normal. As normal as that gets for me, anyway.

That's really all there is to the evening. Best Friend RS went to bed in the spareroom, and I came upstairs and blogged for the last time as a single gal. (Which I saved and then posted quickly the next morning.)

I slept really well, though it took me a while to drop off with one half of the bed empty. I did, however, wake up just before 7am on the Day, so I really only had six and a half hours sleep. But I couldn't sleep anymore, I was just too excited!

Next up: Part II:The morning of.

1 comment:

  1. I don't think you're the only bride-to-be that has had a little bit of pent up stress the night before the wedding. All that hard work, planning, etc. I think it's enough to make anyone feel a little stressed out!So cute that you watched Father of the Bride. I love that movie (the Steve Martin one is much better, I have to agree!)


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.