...in the weeks leading up to your wedding:
1. Try out alllll the all natural facial masks you can find on pinterest because apparently, now that you've turned 30, "all natural" means something to you. Make your mixture of nutmeg, cinnamon, and honey and get one smear in when your future husband enters the room. You, startled, abruptly blurt out: "It's not what is looks like." He, eye brow raised, responds, "So, you're not covering your face with dog poo?"
2. Buy adorable/pricey (adorably pricey? nope, not a thing) crafts from stores like Paper Source. Put said adorable/pricey crafts in their adorable bag into your adorably stuffed closet. Promptly forget about them.
3. Begin asking your future husband questions like: "Yes, but which font do you prefer?"
4. Resent him for not having a preference.
5. Fall down the rabbit hole of the BHLDN website and suffer the bitter pangs of dress regret.
6. Make tenuous plans not to diet exactly, but to be mindful of what you eat. Go to Portland ME and find yourself at a restaurant called "Duck Fat" and decide, definitively, that all bets are off.
7. Do some pivotal emotional training by listening to your first dance song on repeat until you no longer cry at it.
8. Have dreams about the wedding being a surprise or happening on day you are not expecting. Remember how you once saw a documentary (ahem, reality show) about a man who surprised his wife with a wedding. Spend a few moments ruminating on how much you would have hated that. Vaguely wonder if that couple is still together.
9. Begin thinking about all inanimate objects like cartons of milk or britta filters, in terms of your wedding date: this filter will need to be replaced the month of our wedding, this milk will last us until the week of our wedding, etc.
10. Make an infinity number of Portlandia jokes that "this wedding is OVER" before realizing that nobody else finds them quite as funny as you do.
11. Relish the power of flash decision making. It's so much more empowering than the drawn-out agonizing method that you're used to. Begin feeling like a titan of industry.
...in the weeks following your wedding:
1. Obsessively stalk your photographer on social media for updates on your wedding photographs.
2. Tell your mechanic: "Oh no, my husband will be picking up the car." Even though he didn't ask and you'll probably end up picking up the car anyways.
3. Let it casually drop in your work emails that the reason you haven't responded in three weeks is because you were out of the office getting married. How deliciously passive aggressive!
4. Crave getting back to normal life.
5. Loathe getting back to normal life.
6. Sink back into to the chronic indecision that has been your entire life up until this point. Spend your nights fretting over whether it's Law and Order SVU or Top Chef that you really want to see.
7. Marvel at the mystic powers of spanx. Bid them a fond aideu as spanx have no part in your wear-jeans-to-work-every-day existence. It pays to work at art colleges, where they are just SO happy you put on actual clothes to come to work! Although a memo about not wearing shorts to work may have been sent out at one of your previous jobs that may or may not have been in direct response to your wearing of high waisted shorts on a semi-regular basis.
8. Come to the tragic realization that all that fabulous new kitchen gear needs to be washed AND put away. Come to the even more harrowing discovery that you do not have as much cabinet space as you initially thought you did...
9. Dreadfully miss being able to use wedding planning as an excuse for why you are mentally checked out of: fill in the blank.
10. Savor your hipster cashier/liquor store frequenting free existence because you have three cases of leftover wine so...you're good. For a few months at least.
11. Bask in the afterglow of such a lovely day, filled with such lovely people.
Of course, we had to end on a cornball note. Because #myday.
For more exquisite photographs that photoshop me into beauty, check out the superb work of our wedding photographer.