Well, the next time I update a blog entry, my left hand may be a wee bit heavier. I will otherwise be the same old Saedigh (as was discussed earlier, I will be keeping my name), but hopefully very much more relaxed after a nice little break in Québec city.
This Saturday is The Big Day. So far, everything is going just swimmingly. Heather and Tim and Bobbin all arrived in Toronto safe and sound, and are at present probably being very well nourished in Simcoe. Capt Mike and I leave for Bobcaygeon sometime this afternoon once the car and truck are loaded up. I don't think I have ever packed so much luggage in my life. I definitely didn't need this much gear when we went to Africa. But, it's better than getting there and realising we forgot something we needed, right?
Tomorrow, Capt Mike plays a round of golf with his brother and dad, while I get a manicure and pedicure and drop off the finishing touches at the Barn. Then it's rehearsal time!
Saturday, May 12th
This weekend marked the most awesome bachelorette party ever to hit the streets of Ottawa: mine. I have to say, my friends pay far more attention to detail than I do, and managed to pull off one of the most inspired, unique, and fun events I've ever attended, let alone had thrown in my honour.
The festivities started at precisely 1500, when I arrived at Miss Dallaway's house. I was definitely intrigued by the green and white balloons and streamers hanging in the tree out front, and by the sign on the door that read "Sarah's BBC Headquarters." BBC? Was I about to walk in on a britcom-inspired shower? The little saluting man on the sign should have tipped me off. When I entered the house, I was greeted by 3 very enthusiastic "drill seargeants". In honour of Capt Mike's chosen profession, it was an army theme, complete with combats, camouflage, and various shades of green tulle!
Like I said, my friends paid a lot of attention to detail. Waiting for me upstairs was my "uniform": a camouflage shirt, a pair of khaki cargo pants, a GI cap festooned with aforementioned green tulle, a camouflage purse and earrings, and even camouflage underwear... Apparently, army-chic is "in" for the summer of 07. (Capt Mike will be so happy that he can now pass himself off as a "tween".)
When I came back downstairs, I was handed a drink from the themed cocktail menu: drinks with names inspired by Mike and I and the various adventures we'd had. There was a Kilimanjaro, a Lava Love, a Didgeridoo-you?, and a U boat to name but a few. I was then escorted to the chair of honour to open my presents, only some of which are family-friendly enough to mention on a blog read by my parents, sister, and someday niece. ;-) But my very favourite was definitely G-rated: a cad-pat kit bag filled with goodies I won't be able to find once we move down south. Maple everything, a huge bag of Smarties, Girl Guide cookies (Girl Scouts just don't taste the same), and more Canadian flags than you can see from the top of the Peace Tower. Best of all was my own set of authentic Canadian dog tags, engraved with all our initials and the date of the party.
Many photos were taken, some of them not the least bit incriminating, and I will hopefully post some copies of them soon. In the meantime, I'd like to thank Marsha, Jane, Tracy, Tara, Katie, and Leanne for putting it all together and giving me a night I will remember for a very, very long time.
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So yesterday evening I was supposed to go over to my friend Katie's place for a nice quiet evening while Capt Mike was at a band practice in Ottawa. At about 2:30 pm, I got hit by a proverbial bus. All of a sudden I felt like crap. I had vertigo, my skin was hypersensitive, my head hurt, and I wanted to curl up in the fetal position but just couldn't get comfortable. When Capt Mike came home before heading off to practice, I was a whimpering lump on the bed. I asked him to call Katie for me and send my regrets. I heard them talk for a couple of minutes, and then Capt Mike came in to tell me that Katie had said if I was feeling better later, I could still go over, it wasn't a problem.
At 6:30, I could still feel every molecule hitting my skin, so I called Katie to let her know I really couldn't make it over there. There was no way I was potentially exposing anyone else to whatever this was, and there was certainly no way I was making it over there on my own power. Katie was extremely sympathetic, and passed the phone around to all of the other invitees who were there to celebrate my suprise bridal shower. If I hadn't felt crummy before, I certainly felt crummy then, knowing that people had gone to so much trouble, and that my immune system had let me down so very, very badly. :-(
I got to talk to everyone in turn though, and they all assured me that the mini-meatballs and carrot cake were thoroughly being enjoyed. My neighbour, Cheryl, packed me up a care package, which I was able to partially enjoy today once my fever had broken.
But I still feel like the lamest bride EVER.| Comments (1)
People have started asking me if I plan on changing my name after the wedding. I'd never really given it much thought that some day my last name might not be my last name anymore. I don't have a particularly strong opinion on the subject. I have no strong aversion to Capt. Mike's last name, but I do happen to like my own. So, I've (pretty much) decided that I am (likely) going to remain a Sarah C. I am definitely not going the hyphenation route. It's an awful lot to saddle any potential offspring with, especially if they grow up to marry other hyphenates who want to further hyphenate and propogate.
I have no quarrel with the people who ask me if I am going to change my name, but I do sort of take offence when some of them then ask me to defend my choice. I've even heard it said, though not to me directly, that the bride taking the groom's surname is a sign of respect (erego not taking his name could be seen as a sign of disrespect). That, I object to. No name is more deserving of respect than any other. Furthermore, in Canada at least, it's a pretty anglosaxon idea of human nomenclature.
I won't correct people if they call me "Mrs." instead of "Ms.", and I won't get upset if we receive mail addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. X". But I can't promise I won't become a little bit testy if I see any raised eyebrows when I do introduce myself by my own name.
I used to get what I called "residual stress dreams" when I was in school. I would never have weird, frustrating nightmares during exams... but over my summer holidays, I would have recurring dreams in which I showed up to my Physics final without a formula sheet, or found out that I was signed up for an advanced French class I'd never attended. These continued right up until after I left University, only then it changed to finding out I was missing courses and couldn't graduate. Usually, instead of just sitting down to write the dreaded exam I was doomed to fail, I would instead spend the entire time I was dreaming running around trying to find the right person/administrator to talk to to get out of writing the dreaded exam I was doomed to fail.
Well, it looks like my brain is up to its old tricks, only this time, it's not happening after the fact. I'm having real-time stress dreams... about the wedding. Note that I am definitely not taking these as a sign of any sort of impending doom, nor do I think the wedding will be a problem. Most of the dreams are completely ridiculous, like a seamstress forgetting to do my alterations until I am already at the church, or me showing up and having forgotten to make the programs. (I figure it is only a matter of time before I have one in which a bureacrat from Queen's shows up to tell me that I need one last credit, and that the exam that I have to take unless I want to lose my job is scheduled for May 26th.) However, they are annoying, and I do catch myself asking "What am I forgetting?".
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Capt Mike and I got our first RSVP card in the mail today. It was very exciting. I love prompt replies, I must say. We only sent the invitations out on Wednesday. By Thursday, I had already received some compliments on our choice of stationery, meaning that Canada Post is holding up its end of the bargain, which I am always glad to hear. Of course, there is no gaurantee on when the invitations will make it all the way to the Northwest Territories, the west coast, or Korea, but at least I know they're on the move. :-)
In case anyone reading this is interested, I ordered the invitations on-line from www.mygatsby.com. I was impressed by the amount of customization I was able to incorporate. Basically, I could write anything I wanted and choose the fonts, font sizes, ink colours, paper colours, and number of inserts. It was all very easy, and affordable to boot. The only catch was that the company doesn't ship outside of the USA. Luckily, my sister was able to step in and take delivery, then ship it on up to me.
The only remaining work that needed to be done once the invitations arrived was addressing the envelopes. That's when I decided to call in some reinforcements. After plying my friends with wine and hors d'oevres, we managed to get all of the calligraphy done in a couple of hours. So, I would like to take this opportunity to once again thank Cheryl, Katie, Jane, and Tracy for their penmanship, and Heather for having the foresight to buy me a calligraphy set for Christmas.| Comments (2)