Busy times

In the last month, I graduated from law school, went to Crested Butte and Texas (spraining my ankle and tearing ligaments in between trips), moved, started a new job, and started studying for the bar. Bar review really, really sucks. What with trying to get accustomed to the new job and get moved in, plus that nagging wedding planning business, bar review, which should be a full-time affair, really isn't even close. Eight hours a week is a surefire way to fail. But studying for the thing sucks way more than law school did. I need: (A) more time in a day; (B) more weeks in January; and (C) the bar exam to be anytime good and later than the end of February. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Oh, and I went snowboarding this morning. My still-not-totally-healed ankle wasn't really thrilled, especially after Jazzercise yesterday. But it was such a beautiful day, I couldn't resist!

Counting down

I have two days plus roughly two hours of law school left. The end won't come soon enough, but when it does, there will be celebrations and family time and NO MORE EXAMS! Until that unholy of unholy exams, the Bar Exam, but let's not worry about that now, okay?

Counting down to the end of school makes me think I should count down until the end of winter. Because yesterday? It was nineteen degrees below zero. And I don't even live in the mountains anymore, for chrissake. Five more days until the days start getting longer again (FINALLY), and 13 1/2 weeks until the official "first day of spring" (though we in cold climates all know that's a load of crap).

Thirty eight and a half weeks until I get married. And I still don't have a caterer. C'est la vie.

The Shoes

These just might be the magic shoes I will wear down the aisle. I love. Love them. 'Twas love at first sight.

Wedding update?

My current problem is the caterer, and the cake. Which, unfortunately, are two things I CANNOT do myself. Or I would commit suicide. Perhaps hire some girl scouts to get a baking badge in exchange for a wedding cake? Of the few caterers actually in Crested Butte, all of the few are rumored to suck in some way or another. Which is super.
On the upside, I have the invitations nailed (I'm doing them myself, and it STILL costs about $3.00 or so per invitation). Plus about 1/2 hour for each of the fucking things. Oh, but I love it. And oh, how I love spray adhesive. Lovely fumes.

David's Bridal

I'm in the process of trying to find a wedding dress, and I'd convinced myself I could do it on the cheap (you only wear the thing once, right?). Unfortunately, cheap meant I couldn't do an "eco" dress, but I relented on that point. Being budget-minded, I sucked it up and went to David's Bridal (too bad, reader, I can't type the apostrophe as a little heart), that strip-mall big-box bride factory. The nice lady at the "reception" desk assigned me to Cathy. Take a look, she said, and Cathy will be right with you. Shortly, a blonde Eastern European woman with imperfect English approached, so I told her I was Paris. "Do you want to schedule your pampering session now," she asks with a thick accent. This was not Cathy. This woman was going to make me submit to a "makeover" in which I leave looking like a circus clown. I declined, and she left.
Rex and I continued looking at dresses, finding most to be much the same, and nothing was particularly exciting, when Cathy finally approached. She grabbed one more dress and we were off to the fitting rooms.
Behind a fully-mirrored door was a fitting room like you'd expect at Wal-Mart, but smaller. At these places they always give you a "bra," which is more like a grandma's foundation garment from 1976. Cathy also furnished a slip (these dresses have, like, 10 layers of material. Do I really need a slip? How crappy are these things?), and told me to get moving. I put on the first dress, and walked out. Totally unremarkable, as you might expect. I tell Cathy that it's not really what I'm looking for, I'd really like x, y, and/or z features. "Brides, they always want something," she says. "Brides are so quirky." I'm a little put off by her snarkyness, after all, we are brides and it is our wedding dress. I go back in to try again. I tell her I really want a corset back. She says, you can have one put in, but it'll cost ya. Again, with that horrid snarky tone. Couldn't I just get a dress that already has one? No, I have to buy the ugly one she picked so she can sell me and move onto the next bride. While she saunters off to find another David's Bridal "creation," I quickly dressed and grabbed Rex. We ran, like we've never run before. David's Bridal is the Wal-Mart of bridal gowns, and since I don't even shop at Wal-Mart, can someone please tell me why I even went in there?
Worst shopping experience. Ever.

But it gets better. When we go outside, and a woman from a DARE tent approaches us, and says "doyouwanttobuyoneofthesebackpacksforunderprivelegedkids?" No, we say. "Butwe'retryingtogetridofalloftheseonthetablefor$20youcanbuyoneorallsix." No thanks, we say. "Mostpeoplebuyoneortwowouldyoulikeoneortwoorallofthemwetakecchecksorcreditcards." Now, it's time to just walk away. I do not want to buy a crappy clear plastic backpack with pencils in it for a kid in the ghetto. If I wanted to help a kid in the ghetto, I could think of a million better ways than that.
Get me the hell out of Westminster. The suburbs are so scary, I'm beside myself.

The date.

I'm getting married. On 12 September, 2009. Hurrah!

If you have any skills that might be wedding-planning related, you could volunteer your help and I could promise something like a first born child? Or something? We're on a tight budget, so it's gonna be sort of a low-key DIY affair, but with at least most of the regular trimmings.