Ok so here's my first disclaimer: Thus far, I've already lied to you. I am not in fact, yet, a "Displaced Vol Fan." I'm still living in the heart of Tennessee football, and will be for the next 9 months. So...my apologies. If it makes it any better, my heart is in Mobile, AL. And 98.9% of the time, so is my head. I've titled this blog the way I did because my fiance Will and I are both born and raised in Tennessee and we bleed orange (just please don't tell our Bama-fan neighbors). Of all places, we are starting our first year of marriage down in the heart of Mobile. Luckily, our new street is full of SEC fans. Disclaimer number two? I'm not the world's best blogger. I won't claim to be. My goal is to post at least once a week. If a month goes by...so be it. If a year goes by...I'll probably end up deleting this page. However, I love to write, I always have. So I figured it might be nice to have a bit of a creative outlet outside of grad school where I can keep my friends and family updated on what is going on with Will and myself. At one point I had a blog where I attempted to post about various art projects I had been working on. I will post some projects on here, but that's not the main intent. I just want a place where I can post about life, grad school, projects, wedding planning, etc.
Wedding planning you say? Yes! After five years of a long distance friendship, Will and I decided to test the waters of dating each other (long distance of course). Two months later we started looking at engagement rings, and another two and a half months later we were engaged! It may have seemed fast to some, but for Will and I, it was five years in the making and couldn't have happened soon enough. However, we may have gotten a bit ahead of ourselves and after getting engaged, we then began to embark on a 14 month engagement. Awesome. So, it's now August, almost five months into our engagement, and it is just now getting to the point where it is appropriate to begin some serious wedding planning. Of course, I am also getting ready to start my Fall semester of my masters program, and therefore will have little to no time to do anything wedding related. Also, I love to plan. I have a Lilly Pulitzer planner that I never leave home without and it is usually filled with not only my schedule but Will's as well. This comes in handy when, for example, he forgets his allergist appointment and I am able to remind him while he is driving to work. A little OCD? Maybe...but it works for us. Anyway, you'd think that a planner like myself would be in planning heaven with a wedding in the forecast! Let me just say that wedding planning is not really as glamorous as people make it out to be. It's actually quite stressful and exhausting. Let me walk you through dress shopping for example. First, you walk into a bridal boutique where you're greeted by an overly excited attendant who wants nothing more than to dress you. That's weird right? I thought so. She gives you the freedom to browse row after row of lace, taffeta, netting, and beading. You're then expected to pull numerous dresses to try on. What's that? You aren't crazy about any of them? Doesn't matter. Pull them anyway. You never know how they'll look on. Side not: You're already exhausted from pulling these 45 pound dresses off of their hangers. Here comes the fun part. You go into a dressing room (where you can hear cries from other girls insisting to their attendants that they want a lace-up dress with more beading) and your attendant morphs into your Victoria's Secret saleswoman where she measure every inch of your body, making you seriously regret eating a bagel rather than running Cherokee Boulevard that morning. You're then brought a "bra" that is the length of your entire torso and at least four sizes larger than any size you've ever worn and told to clasp all 90 of the back clasps (this is in fact impossible if my sarcasm didn't tip you off). Finally, once you're "dressed" in your bridal undergarments if you will, you're taught the dive that your swim coach tried to teach you when you were seven years old. Arms over your head, squeezing your ears, as the attendant lifts pounds of lace above you. Once the dress is somewhat on, the attendant (we'll call her Lisa) begins pulling. First she pulls all of the material down so that it falls perfectly at the ground. That part isn't so bad. But then, the pulling and clipping starts. From every angle, material is pulled, stretched, and clipped all around you. This makes the size 32 dress that they have on display look like it fits you (aside from the yards of extra material hanging awkwardly behind you). Then, you have the initial decision of looking in the mirror and deciding whether or not this dress is worthy of showing the anxious friends and family members waiting outside to see the ivory mess that is now you. My mother's response to my first dress? "It's nice." Not quite the reaction you're looking for after sweating yourself through that process. What's that? Oh...yes...I started sweating somewhere in between the pulling and clipping. Or perhaps it could have been when I was on clasp 83 of the megabra. Anywhere from 13-14 dresses later, I'd found "the one." Maybe it's that our society has glamorized dress shopping so much with shows like "Say Yes to the Dress," but finding my wedding dress didn't bring tears to my eyes. I didn't get chills, and I didn't want to stay standing on that pedestal twirling like I was Cinderella for hours. I posed for enough pictures to thoroughly show my future mother in law and bridesmaids my dress. I was then beyond ready to be able to breathe normally again and raise my arms over my head without flashing the boutique.
Now please don't read into this that I am some ungrateful bride. I love my dress. I mean I just love it. I feel beautiful and skinny and princess-like when I am in it. I just also was literally so tired after finding it that I took a two hour nap followed by a shower after finding it!
So as not to overwhelm you, as I know I have the ability to do to people, I am going to end this post before it turns into a novel. Thanks for reading! Hopefully, I will be able to keep this updated!
SLD
Wedding planning you say? Yes! After five years of a long distance friendship, Will and I decided to test the waters of dating each other (long distance of course). Two months later we started looking at engagement rings, and another two and a half months later we were engaged! It may have seemed fast to some, but for Will and I, it was five years in the making and couldn't have happened soon enough. However, we may have gotten a bit ahead of ourselves and after getting engaged, we then began to embark on a 14 month engagement. Awesome. So, it's now August, almost five months into our engagement, and it is just now getting to the point where it is appropriate to begin some serious wedding planning. Of course, I am also getting ready to start my Fall semester of my masters program, and therefore will have little to no time to do anything wedding related. Also, I love to plan. I have a Lilly Pulitzer planner that I never leave home without and it is usually filled with not only my schedule but Will's as well. This comes in handy when, for example, he forgets his allergist appointment and I am able to remind him while he is driving to work. A little OCD? Maybe...but it works for us. Anyway, you'd think that a planner like myself would be in planning heaven with a wedding in the forecast! Let me just say that wedding planning is not really as glamorous as people make it out to be. It's actually quite stressful and exhausting. Let me walk you through dress shopping for example. First, you walk into a bridal boutique where you're greeted by an overly excited attendant who wants nothing more than to dress you. That's weird right? I thought so. She gives you the freedom to browse row after row of lace, taffeta, netting, and beading. You're then expected to pull numerous dresses to try on. What's that? You aren't crazy about any of them? Doesn't matter. Pull them anyway. You never know how they'll look on. Side not: You're already exhausted from pulling these 45 pound dresses off of their hangers. Here comes the fun part. You go into a dressing room (where you can hear cries from other girls insisting to their attendants that they want a lace-up dress with more beading) and your attendant morphs into your Victoria's Secret saleswoman where she measure every inch of your body, making you seriously regret eating a bagel rather than running Cherokee Boulevard that morning. You're then brought a "bra" that is the length of your entire torso and at least four sizes larger than any size you've ever worn and told to clasp all 90 of the back clasps (this is in fact impossible if my sarcasm didn't tip you off). Finally, once you're "dressed" in your bridal undergarments if you will, you're taught the dive that your swim coach tried to teach you when you were seven years old. Arms over your head, squeezing your ears, as the attendant lifts pounds of lace above you. Once the dress is somewhat on, the attendant (we'll call her Lisa) begins pulling. First she pulls all of the material down so that it falls perfectly at the ground. That part isn't so bad. But then, the pulling and clipping starts. From every angle, material is pulled, stretched, and clipped all around you. This makes the size 32 dress that they have on display look like it fits you (aside from the yards of extra material hanging awkwardly behind you). Then, you have the initial decision of looking in the mirror and deciding whether or not this dress is worthy of showing the anxious friends and family members waiting outside to see the ivory mess that is now you. My mother's response to my first dress? "It's nice." Not quite the reaction you're looking for after sweating yourself through that process. What's that? Oh...yes...I started sweating somewhere in between the pulling and clipping. Or perhaps it could have been when I was on clasp 83 of the megabra. Anywhere from 13-14 dresses later, I'd found "the one." Maybe it's that our society has glamorized dress shopping so much with shows like "Say Yes to the Dress," but finding my wedding dress didn't bring tears to my eyes. I didn't get chills, and I didn't want to stay standing on that pedestal twirling like I was Cinderella for hours. I posed for enough pictures to thoroughly show my future mother in law and bridesmaids my dress. I was then beyond ready to be able to breathe normally again and raise my arms over my head without flashing the boutique.
Now please don't read into this that I am some ungrateful bride. I love my dress. I mean I just love it. I feel beautiful and skinny and princess-like when I am in it. I just also was literally so tired after finding it that I took a two hour nap followed by a shower after finding it!
So as not to overwhelm you, as I know I have the ability to do to people, I am going to end this post before it turns into a novel. Thanks for reading! Hopefully, I will be able to keep this updated!
SLD
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