An Anniversary

I know you’re expecting Part VI of “Do You Have a Head I Could Borrow?” Don’t worry; the story will be back Wednesday, but right now, I have something special to tell you.

A year ago today, I woke up in an empty bed. I let Ripley out of her crate, took a shower, and threw on some clothes. I hit up the grocery store and bought a bunch of sub sandwiches, orange juice, and champagne. Then, I said it for the first time to the lady ringing up my order at Safeway: “I’m getting married today!”

While Jake hung at Yardhouse, drinking mimosas with old Navy pals, I drank mimosas at our tiny apartment on Old Litchfield Road, surrounded by makeup artist Stephanie Kain, my mother, my aunt, and a mixture of friends from high school through to my time in Charleston, SC. Susie took a nap in the “office” while I was covered in powder and hair spray.

The veil was the last step. Once Stephanie put all that tulle on my head, it was for real. I was getting married, and soon, within hours. I chugged one last mimosa, and we struggled to get me into my 1996 Toyota Camry without crushing the veil that my mother also wore on her wedding day.

We arrived at WindStar Gardens to a panicked bartender: Where was the booze? Where was the booze? I broke the rules and gave Jake a quick call to ask “Where’s the booze?” Brandon, our liquor guy and DJ for the night, came running soon after with booze. Crisis averted.

Mom and Susie helped me put on my dress and jewelry. I remember I was sweating a little, and in a panic, Susie pulled emergency deodorant out of her SOMOH bag (SOMOH: Sexy Old Maid of Honor). After a quick shoot with photographer Pat Shannahan, I hid in my little bride room. Susie brought me my first Cosmopolitan, and I did my best not to spill anything on my dress. Girlfriends snuck in to visit. I made time to get my dad some Cheez-its (because Dad can’t go a day without Cheez-its).

I wondered what it was like out there, outside my little room. I wondered what Jake was thinking at that moment. Did he need emergency deodorant, too?

Suddenly, Lois, our wedding coordinator, came in with bouquets. I barely remember how beautiful they were, made of white and red roses, wrapped in black velvet ribbon. She said, “It’s time.” Susie gave me a Listerine mint, my handsome daddy took my arm, and we walked toward the door where friends and family awaited my arrival—where my fiancé waited to become my husband.

I know pianist Paul Tipei played “Clair de Lune” upon my entrance, but I don’t remember hearing it. There’s a picture of my dad and me laughing about something, walking down an aisle covered in rose petals, but we don’t remember what. All I do remember is seeing Jake. He looked so handsome, my knees almost buckled. I almost went running to him, because I just had to say it: “Can you believe we’re getting married today?”

The ceremony is a blur, blinded as I was by Jake’s ever-present smile. My brother played a song he wrote for us. The chorus: “I never knew it could be this easy …” And it was so easy, becoming Jake’s wife.

I remember every moment of the reception, through the constant kisses, through the toasts, to the mad dance-off on that warm Phoenix night. Then, there was the rain. As friends and family said their goodbyes, Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” played, and I had to find Jake and dance—dance beneath the rain … “because I’m still in love with you. I wanna see you dance again. Because I’m still in love with you … On this harvest moon …”

I never wanted that song to end, because I never wanted our wedding to be over. And yet, the wedding did end, and something else started: a marriage. The real deal. Love, forever.

It’s been a year since that day. As I type, Jake naps two feet away on our couch. Ripley the dog is shoved up against me, snoring. My little family. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful. I’m not worried about “where’s the booze” or emergency deodorant. With Jake next to me, I don’t worry much at all, because I know he’ll always be here with me, ever since we said “I do.” I will always love him; he will always love me, and this … this is just the beginning.

Happy anniversary, my darling boy! You are God’s greatest gift to me.

Read Full Post »

Belize Will Be Here Soon

Palapa Bar and Grill, San Pedro.

It was fairly easy choosing a honeymoon destination, considering all we required were turquoise beaches, white sand, and margaritas. Friends of ours had already spent their honeymoon in a mysterious place called Belize, Central America. Yes, I had to look at a map to understand where it was, but once I saw pictures, it was love.

We’re leaving in a few weeks (can’t wait!!), so this week, I did some homework. We’re staying in an ocean-side cabana on Ambergris Caye, which is a little island off the mainland. San Pedro is the big city on Ambergris Caye, and Belize City is only a quick boat ride away. So beyond lying on sunny beaches and drinking the aforementioned margaritas, what do people do in Belize? Well, let me tell you.

Mayan Ruins
The peak of Mayan civilization was from about 600 to 900 AD, and Belize was an important part of their culture. The country’s fertile climate and access to marine life led to the growth of a large population of Mayans, and when they disappeared (aliens?), they left breathtaking ruins. There are several to visit, but Caracol is the biggest and Xunantunich is most heavily visited. Maybe we’ll see both!

Shark Ray Alley.

Snorkeling
I still have a slight phobia of the ocean. Not much, mind you, since living in Charleston, South Carolina, but I still get freaked when I can’t touch the bottom or see what creatures might be circling my toes. The good thing about Belize? The water is crystal clear, so at least I’ll be aware of creatures that might want to eat me. Because of the clarity of its turquoise water, Belize is the perfect place to snorkel, and I plan to do it at the Hol Chan Marine Reserve, the location of Shark Ray Alley—where we’ll swim with Nurse Sharks and Southern Sting Rays. Crazy? Yes, but how often do you get to do something like that?

Eat/Drink (My Favorite)
When researching restaurants and bars in Belize, I didn’t look for the ones with the best food. I looked for the ones with the best views of the ocean. One of them is literally in the ocean; now, that’s what I’m talking about! The two places we HAVE TO GO and possibly spend LOTS OF TIME: The Rojo Lounge in San Pedro and Palapa Bar and Grill—the one literally on stilts above the sea. I discovered both of these locales online yesterday, and I giggled with glee. If Palapa is as cool as it looks, we might just never leave …

Ocean Essence Day Spa.

Massage
Of course we’ll get sea-side massages. Of course! The place that looks most promising is Ocean Essence Day Spa. It’s a tiny spa right on the beach. I mean right on the beach. Can you imagine? Sitting outside, hearing the waves, feeling the salty breeze from the sea … and getting a deep tissue massage all at the same time? Priceless.

Our honeymoon will be here soon. Belize is coming! It’s about damn time. We deserve a vacation, and I look forward to life off the map and off the computer … and in the arms of my hubbie! Happy honeymoon!

Read Full Post »

Mrs. Sara Bauer

They say your wedding day goes by in a blur, but isn’t that how life is when things are going well? Jake and I became husband and wife last Saturday, November 12th, 2011, at WindStar Gardens in Peoria, Arizona. We were married in front of God, in front of our families, and in front of our closest friends.

We took pictures. We kissed and kissed … We never stopped kissing. We ate gourmet Mexican food and s’more cupcakes. We laughed through four (yes, four) speeches, including my SOMOH (“Sexy Old Maid of Honor” Aunt Susie), two Best Men (my brother and Jake’s pal, Vince), and an additional, surprise Best Man, who wrote a letter (Rob, who is currently on a Navy carrier). We had our first dance as husband and wife to Louis Armstrong’s “La Vie en Rose.” I cried happy tears, and we danced our butts off.

I don’t know when it really hit me, whether it was while watching Jake shimmy to “Footloose” or when I saw him for the first time in his tuxedo, but I was suddenly overwrought by a dizzying spell of pure JOY.

JOY, knowing that somehow, in this crazy world, I have the man of my dreams.
JOY, knowing that he will always take care of me and love me, no matter what.
JOY, knowing that I will never be lonely again.
JOY, knowing that Jake will keep me laughing even when we’re old and gray.
JOY, knowing that I am now Mrs. Sara Bauer.

It was perfect. All of it. Every moment. Even when the rain began to gently fall at 10 PM sharp, just as Neil Young’s haunting “Harvest Moon” began to play, it was perfect. And it was also a complete, gorgeous blur, kind of like what Christmas morning feels like to a child.

Now, I am a married woman. Do I feel different? I suppose. There is a sense of peace that settles, post-wedding. The out-of-state guests head home. Jake and I have several bottles of leftover liquor (which assists in the whole “peace” thing). Ripley has been sleeping for three days straight, and I have earned the new nickname of “wifey.” Yes, peace does follow the joy, as I sit here and breathe and realize that for the first time ever, Jake will arrive home from work tonight as my husband. And every night for the rest of our lives, he will arrive home as my husband, and I will be here for him, as his wife.

The wedding is over; marriage now begins. And I am lucky, because I have loving family and friends to support me. Not to mention my darling Jake, who has made me the happiest woman on earth.

Hold me close and hold me fast / The magic spell you cast / This is la vie en rose. When you kiss me heaven sighs / And tho I close my eyes / I see la vie en rose.

When you press me to your heart / I’m in a world apart / A world where roses bloom. And when you speak … angels sing from above / Everyday words seem … to turn into love songs.

Give your heart and soul to me / And life will always be / La vie en rose!

Read Full Post »

Oh, Shoot … I Really Am Bridezilla

Yesterday, I cried over the price of black velvet ribbon at Jo-Ann Fabrics. Then, I went to Staples and couldn’t believe they didn’t have the right size paper. Again, I wanted to cry. Then, I wanted to get a baseball bat and swing away—right into their stupid wedding display. What is happening to me? Me, who is (mostly) even keel and polite. Oh, of course: I’m getting married next weekend.

Jake and I got engaged in February, and we weren’t sure we wanted to get married right away. In fact, we were even thinking of pushing it back to June 2012, because that was when one of my best girlfriends would return from New Zealand. At the behest of my parents, we decided against waiting and planned for November 12th, 2011. (No, not 11-11-11, okay; everyone and their stinkin’ brother is getting married THAT day.) We booked the venue, and we were off and running!

Since booking the venue and settling on a date, I’ve done quite well. I was efficient in my dress purchase. I found the florist the same day. The caterer was easy, as was the decision to serve home-brewed beer and lots of liquor at the reception. We took an unconventional step when we decided against a DJ and instead went for a friend and an iPod. Everything else (including a tutu for Ripley) just fell into place … and yet this week, I have become bridezilla.

How did this happen? It’s not as if I haven’t had tons of help. Jake has been wonderful with the wedding planning, singlehandedly organizing our rehearsal dinner and then some. Friends have been a blessing from God. My mother and aunt in Ohio have run all over the internet, looking for nice touches and good suggestions. Every vendor we’ve found for the wedding? Cheerful. Helpful. Perfect.

And yet I was crying over ribbon yesterday, followed immediately by a trip to Total Wine where I bought my favorite vodka and then curled up on my couch with a cocktail, desperately trying not to cry anymore. I’ve lost my damn mind!

I was warned this would happen, by every one of my girlfriends who has already been married. I was warned that weddings can turn even normal women into soul-sucking wenches. But they do say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

I have a little over a week before officially becoming Mrs. Jacob Bauer, and from here on in, I refuse to let the bridezilla crush my village. Despite all the tiny details that are driving me crazy, I will take a deep breath and realize that the small stuff doesn’t matter. Jake matters. Our family matters. God matters, and He’ll be there with us next Saturday as Jake and I become man and wife.

I’ve started meditating on the song Jake and I chose for our first dance (no, I’m not telling you what it is; it’s a surprise). The lyrics say all that needs to be said. So do the words the pastor read to us this past Monday at our final counseling session before The Big Day.

I’m ready to get married. I’m completely stressed out, and I cry over things like, oh, wrinkles in fabric and slow drivers when I have places to be, people! Don’t you know, I’m the BRIDE? I will kill you!!!

<Sara takes a sip of vodka.>

Whoa, see, the bridezilla shows up without warning, but dang it, I’ll beat her, even if I have to use a baseball bat. If you see me over the course of the next week, give me a hug and tell me to calm down (or buy me a drink; that usually works, too). If you see Jake, tell him he’s a saint. And if you hear about a psycho cussing out a Jo-Ann Fabrics employee, please bail me out of jail before November 12th. Thank you.

Read Full Post »

A Bachelorette/College Reunion Week to Remember

I flew back to Phoenix Monday evening after eleven days in Ohio filled with wedding shenanigans, happy tears, and beer. I missed my Jake terribly (Ripley, too), and I’m indubitably happy to be home. Now looking back on my trip, I feel it was all very, very necessary. Yes, even the penis veil.

Susie's spectacular backyard.

Saturday the 20th of August was my bridal shower and bachelorette party. Was I nervous? Holy hell, yes. I don’t like to be the center of attention, especially when being the center involves opening kitchen utensils in front of twenty of my mom’s best friends. Aunt Susie, my Maid of Honor, made it a lot easier. Her yard looked like a magical fairyland. It usually does in August, living in the beautiful summer climate of Perrysburg, Ohio. She even picked fresh mint from her garden and made me a mojito as the guests arrived. It turned out not to be as scary as I expected. I’m a small talk diva, and my mom’s sangria helped.

I ran home and changed and then, at 6:30, was escorted to my bachelorette party. I need to say it again: my bachelorette party. It was so surreal! I’ve been to several bachelorette parties in my day, but it was always for someone else. It was never me getting married. Now, it’s ME! I’m getting married! I won’t get into all of it. I will say we drank quite a bit of tequila. My girlfriends—from elementary school through to post-college—got along as though they’d known each other for twenty years, and I wore several penis-adorned decorative items.

Randy, my stripper.

The best moment? We were at a bar when my gal pal January grabbed me and shoved me into a chair. Journey’s “Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’” started playing, and the door to the bar opened. I looked left and there was a man in naval garb. No, it wasn’t Jake. It was Jan’s husband, Randy—a dear friend of mine and Jake’s—and you guessed it, he performed a rousing strip routine down to his leopard-print boxers. It was … amazing. I was hung-over the next day, so my dad and I watched Lonesome Dove—all six hours of it. He had his usual beer and Cheez-its at 4:30 PM. I did not (blech).

Skip ahead to Thursday. If you do, yes, you’re skipping over great days and nights spent one-on-one with some of my favorite people. This trip was really about one-on-one time. The moments spent catching up with friends and family members are some of the most memorable moments of the past two weeks, which is why Thursday was so important. Not only did I get to spend countless hours with my little brother, but I spent those hours in Athens, Ohio, home of me and Matt’s alma mater, Ohio University, recently named the #1 party school in the country.

That Thursday night I was up until 5 AM. The night was spent eating at my favorite Athens restaurant, Casa Nueva, and drinking freshly handmade margaritas. It was spent at my favorite bars, cackling with my brother and some of his best friends (who were wonderful). After hours, Matt sang me the song he wrote for me and Jake’s wedding ceremony, and I sobbed. He said I once told him that great relationships are “easy.” There’s no drama, no muss, no fuss, only peace, love, and laughter.  The song he wrote for us is about that, and I hope he’ll soon find a woman who makes his life feel easy, too.

Little Dobes on Ohio University's College Green.

Friday morning, Matt and I walked around campus. We visited our old dorms. We walked across College Green and talked about life, my wedding, and Matt’s music. I’m so blessed to have my little brother. He’s one of my favorite people on earth, and I miss him almost every day. Before leaving town, we headed up to the old Athens Lunatic Asylum—a decrepit insane asylum that opened in the late 1800s and closed in the early 1990s. As students, we used to sneak up there at night and scare the crap out of each other. It’s easy to do, even in daylight, but it was the perfect end to my Athens adventure, and I bit back tears when I said goodbye to Little Dobes.

Over the weekend, I got to meet an old friend’s new beau, who I adored. We had a lovely dinner party together—the kind you only see in movies—while sitting on the back porch, overlooking a huge pond in her backyard. I walked among lightning bugs, and we listened to screaming cicadas. Saturday, I saw a different old friend get married. She looked like a Barbie doll princess, and we danced and rejoiced, while looking at each other knowingly as she said, “You’re next …”

And I am next. I’m getting married November 12th! By Monday, all I wanted was my fellah—my future husband. I flew out from Detroit Monday night. My suitcase weighed exactly 49 pounds, filled with embarrassing gag gifts and bridal shower paraphernalia. I cried a little pre-plane. I guess it’s because I know the next time I see all my friends and family, it will be the week of my wedding, and I can’t wait. I’m getting married, and I couldn’t ask for a better circle of friends, better family, or better husband-to-be in Jake. I am so blessed, and well, this trip was a constant reminder of all God has given me. Thank you, Lord, for a wonderful trip home. And thank everyone who made it just right!

Read Full Post »

Where Would You Go on Your Honeymoon?

Once you get engaged, everyone wants to know the wedding date. Once you have a wedding date, people want to know “Are you going on a honeymoon?” Jake and I were not prepared for this question, which got us thinking … Huh, are we going on a honeymoon?

The question had a lot to do with Jake’s work schedule and lack of vacation days. Plus, we already live in a version of paradise. We don’t have inclement weather to escape (except for freak dust storms, which was a helluva show Tuesday night, I might add).  When you live in paradise, where do you go to “get away?”

Jake and I are both well-traveled kids. He was in the Navy for nine years, so he’s been all over the world, including places like the wild city of Dubai. I traveled all over the country as a child. Then, when I was sixteen, I went to France. When I was twenty-one, I hit up Italy. When you’ve already been all over the world, where do you go to “get away?”

That'll be me in 2012.

We went to a bridal fair back in March. (It was scary; there are so many ways to waste money on a wedding. I mean, glitter-covered initials for our cake? Seriously?) One of the best parts of the fair was the travel agency. They had brochures from all over the world, and we picked up whatever caught our fancy: New Zealand, Ireland, France, etc, etc. But none of it felt real. Really, we probably wouldn’t go to New Zealand for our honeymoon. Really, I’ve already been to France, and although I want to go back, do I want to go back for my honeymoon?

Then, it happened … somehow, Jake got inspired, and he said, “What about Central America? What about … Belize?”

Do you know where Belize is located? I didn’t. I do now, because I’m obsessed with their tourism website. Ob-sessed.  I look at it every day. Belize is located on the eastern coast of Central American, facing the Caribbean Sea, just about equidistant from the top of North America and the bottom of South America—smack dab in the middle but right on that bright blue ocean water. The kind of ocean water you see on postcards. That is Belize.

Waterfall in Belize rainforest.

It’s got white, sandy beaches. It’s got a rainforest. It’s got Mayan ruins. There’s also this crazy thing known as “The Great Blue Hole.” Strangely enough, English is the official language of Belize. An example of traditional cuisine: rice and red beans cooked together in coconut milk. Plus, seafood, seafood, SEAFOOD!!! From the Belize website: “It is not uncommon to see people dancing in the street outside a shop where music is blasting or to emphasize a conversation point with a little dance.” People who love to swim in the ocean, eat good food, and dance in the streets? Why haven’t I been here before??? SIGN ME UP!

Jake and I will be going on our honeymoon in early 2012. We will be celebrating our marriage on the beaches of Belize, hopefully while drinking fresh-made pina coladas out of a coconut. The week after our wedding in November, we are planning a mini-trip to Sedona and possibly Flagstaff, just to unwind and “get away.” Around here, it’s not difficult to find beauty in our backyard.

I get giggly when I talk about Belize, but it’s not just because of the beach. It’s because it will be me and my husband on vacation. Jake and I recently returned from a trip back to where we met in Charleston, South Carolina, and it was great … but it wasn’t about us. It was about our Charleston friends and family; we didn’t have very much alone time. In Belize, it will be Jake and Sara alone time. No distractions. No nagging schedules or responsibilities. Nothing but me and the man I love. On a beach. In Belize!!

Read Full Post »

Sara the Bridezilla?

It’s my own fault that I’ve been watching evil TV shows like Bridezillas and Say Yes to the Dress. I think they really screwed with my head—Bridezillas, in particular—but I needed help. I didn’t know how to plan a wedding, so I thought watching TV shows about wedding planning would be useful; but have they been useful or detrimental?

Bridezillas is a reality TV show that follows a bride through the wedding planning process. Sounds simple and interesting, but it’s scarier than you might think. The women they feature on this program are self-absorbed, awful people who treat their families and friends like crap. If I had a chance to punch one of these brides in the face (preferably right before her ceremony), I would. I wish I could feel bad for their fiancés, but I can’t. After all, the poor bastards knew what they were getting into when they proposed.

Say Yes to the Dress is about wedding dress shopping at Kleinfeld Bridal in New York City. This isn’t your basic wedding dress shopping. The dress I saw on this program the other night was twenty-seven grand, to give you an idea. This show—about one of the happiest moments in a woman’s life—also features annoying, spoiled brats and the stupid parents who cater to their every whim. I wish I could feel bad for the sales associates, but they knew what they were getting into when they turned in an application.

Almost "The Dress," from Saja. But not quite ...

Last week, my mom flew into town for wedding madness. I wanted her help in the planning, so I was happy to have her here. However, the above mentioned programs made me wonder: in order to be a successful bride, did I have to become a terrible person? If TV teaches us anything, then yes, I had to be vicious, conniving, and self-centered to get anything done. This scared me, because generally, I like to think of myself as nice, considerate, and concerned with the well-being of others. What was a kind, Christian girl to do?

We started with dress shopping, first in Scottsdale and then, in Cave Creek. I was ready to battle and pout (after all, that’s what Say Yes to the Dress condones). It started at Bella Bridesmaid, where I found glamorous, dream-worthy dresses by Saja and the pleasant personality of co-owner, Kristen. I was shocked! Wait, you mean wedding dress shopping can be a peaceful, fun experience? But that’s not what the TV shows taught me!

We moved on in the afternoon to Almond Tree in Cave Creek, where co-owner Pam treated me like the only bride on earth. And I was the only bride in the shop. (They like to give their customers full attention.) I found “The Dress” at Almond Tree, but I still had additional appointments Friday, so I held off on purchase until Saturday afternoon.

Black bacarra roses. I'm obsessed.

On Thursday, we went on a flower search. We headed to Wolz’s Florist in Glendale, where I met Barb. We were referred to her via my venue, WindStar Gardens, co-owner Lois (an informative, helpful answer to prayer). Barb took one look at me and knew what I wanted. The more I talked to her, the more I felt like she was some old friend who perfectly understood I wanted red roses, with the added touch of black bacarra. She knew how the centerpieces should look. She knew everything … and I didn’t have to sob, scream, or throw anything to get my way.

That night, we went to a caterer tasting at Fresh from the Kitchen. The owner, Theresa Nobles, had the event at her own home. She sat down and asked me questions about what I wanted and how she could make it happen. I met the chef, Noelle, and ate amazing food, surrounded by amazing company. Again, I did not need to throw a tantrum or bash my head into a wall to make my expectations clear.

Wedding planning is going well, and I didn’t even have to become a monster to do it. Shows like Bridezilla and Say Yes to the Dress are very scary to a girl who knows nothing about weddings. They make brides out to be psychotic wenches—and it’s true, the girls on these programs often are. In the last week, I have discovered that people involved in wedding planning are some of the nicest people you will ever meet. And why not? They get to work with men and women who are preparing for one of the most romantic moments of their lives. I have also discovered that being nice gets you a lot further than cuss words and mental breakdowns.

To the bridezillas out there: shut up and smile, especially since TLC hasn’t come up with a program called “Recently Divorced and Miserable.” Yet. And to the women on Say Yes to the Dress: you don’t have to spend the price of a new home on your dress. Find something that makes you feel sexy, sure, but let’s face it: your groom loves you for who you are—with or without twenty pounds of tulle.

She went about three grand over her budget. Oops.

Read Full Post »

Why a White Wedding?

I never thought I’d start a fight with Billy Idol, but never say never, right?

As you know, Jake and I got engaged on Valentine’s Day. We want to enjoy our engagement time, so we haven’t set a wedding date. There are too many things up in the air right now for us to seriously book a venue, DJ, caterer, etc. However, my parents were in Phoenix for our engagement celebration. They live in Ohio, so since they were here, I agreed to go wedding dress shopping with my mom and Jake’s bro, Zach.

Something you need to understand about me … Although I have fantasized (vaguely) about my wedding day (exponentially more since I met Jake), I have never seriously considered my wedding dress. There are women out there—one of them being my gal pal Janine—who have known the precise dress they will wear down the aisle. As soon as these women get engaged, they buy their dream dress, because the dress has been waiting for them for years; why wait any longer?

After my David’s Bridal experience, I am jealous of these women, because my David’s Bridal experience taught me three things:
1) I look heinously chubby in traditional wedding dresses.
2) Zach looks better than me in most veils.
3) I look sickly wearing white.

Although item 2 is disheartening, items 1 and 3 are of much greater importance, considering I will soon be a bride, requiring a wedding dress, and I look terrible in most wedding dresses. My mother would argue this point; she thought I looked beautiful in a couple of the gowns. However, the problem is, I didn’t feel beautiful. And isn’t the bride supposed to feel beautiful on her big day?

I decided to do some research into the whole white wedding dress thing, and here’s what I found … Wedding dresses were not popularly white until 1840, when the British Queen Victoria wore a white dress for her marriage to her cousin, Albert of Saxe-Coburg. (Do we really want to perpetuate a tradition founded in incest? Uh …) This famous people wearing white thing became the symbol of Hollywood when actress Grace Kelly married the Prince of Monaco in 1956 in a fancy, white gown. So the white wedding dress is fairly new.

I know what you’re going to say. There’s the image of purity that is associated with wearing white. Granted. But how many women in America can wear white as a sign of purity anymore?

Jake and I have discussed all of this, and he admits he prefers me in blue. Chinese women get to wear red. Gothic chicks get away with black. So what about me? How am I going to make this work? Although the trip to David’s Bridal was helpful, it certainly didn’t bring me any closer to finding the dress of my wedding dreams.

I’m starting to get ideas, but it’s going to be awhile before I find the PERFECT dress. I’m happy to know I don’t have to wear white. I’m sad to tell Billy Idol that his wedding song is no longer my favorite. I probably won’t be a traditional bride, but I’m gonna find a way to look good for my man—my soon-to-be husband—because Jake is too hot to have a chubby, sickly chick at his side.

Viva la bridal revolution!

Read Full Post »