have a nice day?

This morning I felt empowered. A delicious, light organic breakfast. Fair trade coffee with fresh ground hazelnut. I sat in my dining room, sun on my back. And while eating this food and drinking this coffee I wrote in my little journal about turning thirty. It was a perfect hour to begin my day. The fiance awoke, nice good morning kiss. We danced around each other, still trying to get used to this one-bathroom-household life. I found a cute outfit to wear and was out the door.

On my way into the office I spoke to my mom. A little bit 'bout life. A little 'bout wedding planning. A call comes in while we're chatting, but I press "ignore" 'cause we're discussing my involvement the day-of the wedding. (I need to win this point. I am not out to be a princess on my wedding day. I am throwing a party to be shared with people I love and enjoy. I insist on being involved. After all, I'm empowered this morning.) End the call. Park the car. I slip on my sassy red shoes, grab my purse, coffee, cute cardigan, and oh yes, my phone. Oh, and that phone call... what was that phone call? I bring the phone to my ear, feeling good 'cause it's been a great morning. A pleasant and slightly familiar voice on the end other end... but, then I hear "Mammogram." "Monday." "Oncologist." "Have a nice day."

And this is where my heart starts racing and I panic.

TO CLARIFY: No, I don't hate mammograms. (I'm used to them by now.) The word "oncologist" doesn't scare me. (I have a great one. Having him on my team comforts me.) What gets to me is the element of surprise. And the timing. It's knowing that I am going to now walk into my office and spend the next little while on the phone, once again, dealing with my health concerns. But, I'm okay, right? I'm feeling empowered today. Feeling strong.

Three hours later I no longer feel strong. Seven phone calls later I feel tired. Overwhelmed. Sad. No longer empowered. My eyes have filled with tears three times, my voice quivered with the insurance rep. My once strong demeanor for the day has now melted and I only want to cry.

And I guess I'm just here wondering... how do I get my empowered self back?

define 'wedding' please.

This whole wedding-thing is curious. My quiet, driving force this entire planning process has been in effort to reclaim my event from the wedding industry. As if: Nick asks me to marry him, I say 'yes', and suddenly that moment lifts in a cloud above our heads, away from our grasp, and rushes determinedly towards The Wedding Industry.

Whooosh. It's gone.

It took me a while to find our wedding once it had left our grasp. But my trick? I claimed the day back. In writing. For all to see. But, most important, for ME to see. For me to see when I let my design-self take over and begin obssessing over the shape of a vase. Or the bathroom candles.

this is not the day of our dreams,

but rather the day when we make

one of the most serious commitments of our lifetime

(followed by one hell of a good party)

(And take a peek... it looks lovely on our wedding website.)

vintage glass stole my heart

FINALLY. The wedding decor inspiration I've been searching for. (Thanks, Salvation Army.)

And after a trip to Trader Joes for a monochromatic bouquet we have a little hint of what this just turn out to be. Now the only challenge is locating 60 or 70 more of these... Happy shopping, Megan (!)

(not the best photographic quality, but you get the idea)