Spanish Pipedream: Are you excited?

         If I thought getting engaged was fun, getting married was really fun. Planning to get married was not really fun. Some how we pulled it off.
Here's how it went down:
One week after engagement Joe and I were driving around looking at possible reception locations--not fun at all. So between Joe, my dad, and me (I?) we came up with an alternative wedding plan. Dad wanted us to elope. For real elope. Ideally we would get married without his knowledge and then call him up afterwards to inform him the deed was done. Those of you thinking, "Oh that's not REALLY what he'd want. He's your dad." You know nothing and you are wrong. Joe and I wanted some form of ceremony and small celebration, but we did not want the big thing. Fast forward to when mom got home (she'd been hiking), we had it all laid out. Get married in Southaven, go party on Beale Street. Invite some close friends and fam to come along if they want.
   That's mostly what happened, but mom made sure it wasn't just "Y'all come on to the bar if you want...whatever" We provided food and drinks through the bar (Rum Boogie) and had a little (ok a lot) more southern hospitality than my original, discourteous plan. Thank God for mamas.
               It was hard drawing a line when it came to the guest list. We basically just went with who would've been bridesmaids/groomsmen. Once you added them plus dates plus family... that number jumps up fast. People tell you "just do what you want." We wanted small so we drew the line even though it meant not including some very dear people in our lives.
Like I said, we pulled it off and it was my favorite day. But even planning the little wedding we had was at times more than I could handle along with teaching (refer to Year 2 post).

As your wedding approaches, more than one person a day asks you "Are you excited?"
I was baffled at how often this was asked and, at first, irritated that these people didn't already know the answer. Then I realized, it's just one of those things you ask. Like, what else are they supposed to ask/say?      "I'm so sorry for your loss" is to Funerals as "Are you excited?" is to Weddings. But between trying to keep it a secret from our students and also just being consumed with school, I didn't really feel excited until the Friday before. And then that Friday morning I woke up with that tiny itch or twinge or whatever name you give to that feeling of "Oh no I'm getting sick." Shit.

I pounded vitamin C and other vitamins the whole day. Excitement took a backseat to straight-up survival mode. I could NOT be sick on my favorite day. (also Friday was my birthday... that definitely didn't matter at this point). I went home and had about an hour to myself to try to nap. Sleep is what I needed and what I'd been lacking all week. But I don't fall asleep easily and after an hour, people started arriving: first my brother then Beth. I hadn't told anyone I was feeling bad. I couldn't give the germs any more power. So I picked myself up and put on a big "I'm healthy and excited face."

After an evening of taco soup and fire pit at Joe's parents house, in which I tried my best but may have failed in appearing excited, a few of my girls and I went back to my apartment. Instead of wine we all started drinking Vitamin C followed by confessions of how we all felt like we might be getting a little sick.

The next morning I woke up and couldn't breathe out of my nose. I felt awful. It was early. I still needed sleep. It's my wedding day. I WILL feel fabulous. Idea: "I'll take a bunch of vitamins, go back to sleep, and during sleep the vitamins will aid my immune system in fighting the sickness" Worst idea ever. I ate like a bite of bread (never take vitamins on empty stomach...check) then downed 5 different vitamins or herbs. Oh so dumb. Never take vitamins on a bite of bread either. I sat on the couch for 5 minutes then ran to the toilet to expel those vile vitamins. Beth woke up in panic, assuming I had a virus. No, no. Just vitamin overdose. I deserved all the making-fun-of I got for this stupid act of self-medication.

After vomiting I slept some more and all was fine. The adrenaline of the day (and Claritin D) kicked in around 2:00 and I felt fine the rest of the day.... until Sunday morning when my body succumbed to exhaustion and the sickness germs. But even the morning of consisted of "are you excited?"... which was difficult to answer with enough cheer due to secret sickness (only my overnight guests Anna, Elise, and Beth knew about sickness and vitamin vomit session).

The other wedding confession I'd like to make before wrapping up this long post will be subtitled: "Spanx potty training." I wore Spanx under my dress. Full body armor from thigh to rib cage--to create a smooth, no see through effect. I didn't have to pee until after the wedding. Joe and I checked into the Peabody. This was the time I had to pee. Should be easy. The Spanx has an escape hole so you don't have to de-Spanx. I thought I had it under control. The sound of liquid trickling into the toilet confirmed that I did. The feeling of something warm filling up my left Spanx leg confirmed that I did not. Somehow half of the pee ended up taking a detour back into the Spanx. To sum it up: I peed myself on my wedding night. Before the reception at Rum Boogie Bar. The night was nowhere near over. It was fine. I dried off and soldiered on. I think I told two other people... (it was too funny not to). And now I'm putting it here.

Professional photos will follow as soon as my photographers (Chad and the beloved Pablo) finish their editing.
I can't wait. For two weeks, every Saturday I woke up and wished for a wedding day replay:
my friends piled on my bed in the morning eating Bet's pimento and cheese
walking to High point for coffee with mom, bet, carly, adam, etc.
a girl tornado of showers and blow dryers at my apt as other friends drop by to drop off wedding gifts
caravan to Southaven
champagne out of pee cups courtesy of Anna Marsh Selby
First dance: "Love the one you're with"
and so much more.