jaysaint Getting it all down on paper…

What a lovely weekend I’m having.

Yesterday I slept late and then went downtown to go wedding dress shopping with my friend Kari. I’ve been asked a time or ten whether or not I was anxious that the wedding is fewer than thirty days away and I still have nothing to wear. But I really wasn’t because I knew I’d be shopping with Kari. She always looks so chic and graceful, I knew she’s be a good luck charm. And sure enough, in thirty minutes or so we had my dress in hand and we’re off to Panna II for a celebratory Indian dinner. The dress is gorgeous. It was entirely hand-made in India. It’s a dark cream with a handkerchief hemline, beaded with flowers and vines in the same color as the dress. That’s a terrible description, but that’s the best I can do, being lazy. What’s novel to me is that the dress isn’t washable, and it can’t be dry cleaned either. All I can do is spot clean it with a little Woolite if needed. There’s also a warning attached to be sure not to spray hairspray or perfume while wearing the dress. It’s all terribly glamorous. I also picked up a super-cute floral pink bikini with a ruffle on the hips. That’s for Hawaii.

Our celebratory dinner was perfect — Panna II is one of my favorite NY restaurants and anyone who visits should ask me for directions.

After dinner we sat on Kari’s rooftop and had cider. She lives in a 50-story building, so her rooftop is waaaay up in the sky. She’s so close to the Empire State Building that it felt as though if I could just stretch my arm a little farther I could touch the spire. She’s got the best view of the city I’ve ever seen, actually. She’s just a few blocks south of ESB, so she’s got this amazing panorama that takes in the aforementioned plus the Chrysler Building, Brooklyn, the Brooklyn Bridge and several others, Soutern Manhattan, New Jersey, it goes on and on. She said I can come over and sit on her roof any time, and she might get more than she bargained for.

Today I’m hanging out in pajamas watching “Luther” and trying to recover from my disappointment that Damon ate all the berry Cheerios.

We have the pleasure of having our friends Geoff and Lisa in for the weekend. I enjoy that, but find that when there are lots of us in the house that I will do my best to out-wait everyone on bedtime so that I can steal some alone time. I can never get enough alone time.

It’s been a banner spring for me. We got engaged and this past week I finally got the promotion I’ve been rabble rousing for since January. I was the cool professional when my boss called me in. I jumped up and hugged her. And then later I hugged her again. So now I’m not just a programming manager, I’m a senior programming manager.

Wedding planning continues apace. Everything is falling into place pretty easily, which just confirms for me that we can do without the behemoth marriage industry. To my mind it adds a pleasant, organic quality to know that we haven’t been fed through that mill. That said, I’m the first one to put on my party shoes and race out the door when I get my invite to a tradtional, hoop-skirt, DJ, tux rental, roast beef buffet type of wedding and reception. Or anything in between. I’m a great lover of all ways of getting married, from the magnificent to the cringe-inspiring. Anyone getting married? I’m the happiest, hardest-working bridesmaid you’ll ever meet. I’ll even be delighted over my stupid dress that I’ll never wear again.

Damon and I have been overwhelmed and so touched at how many people seem excited to come to our wedding. We didn’t invite that many, but were still figuring on a 3/4 acceptance rate, particularly since it’s so soon and will require travel for pretty much everyone. But it seems so far that we’re up to one decline. I’m now freaking out about where we’re going to put and how we’re going to feed everyone. The first of the pre-wedding Xanax has been consumed.

But it’s hard to actually complain that the people you love love you back enough to do whatever they need to do to get to our little wedding.

And I got some wonderful news. There’s very little that I have my heart set on for this wedding — there seem to be plenty of good options for everything we do. But I knew right away that I wanted our friend Jennifer to be the officiant. We have several friends who’ve conducted weddings, but Jennifer actually makes a practice of it. It’s deeply meaningful to her. And so since that’s the most important 10 or 15 minutes of the whole weekend, I wanted to pay real attention there. And then a mutual friend told me that Jennifer will be out of town visiting family at the time of our wedding. So that was terribly disappointing. But then the next day Jennifer called me to say, “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I got the idea from mutual friends that you had wanted to ask me to officiate. If you do then I would be honored and thrilled and will change my plane ticket and move my plans to visit my family back one week so that I can be there with you.” I really do have the best friends anyone could ever hope for. Another friend — Nicole — sent me a note to say she’s arranged to leave work early that Friday, just in case I need her. She figures she can always just work if I don’t, but wanted to be sure she was available. Another added bonus of Jennifer’s presence is that I’ll get to meet her little baby, who will be along for the ride. I suggested that maybe I’ll wear her in a Baby Bjorn for the ceremony, just so she can be near mom. I probably won’t really do that, though.

I promise every post will not be about the wedding. But even if that’s a lie, you’ll only have about a month and a half to endure it.

I’ve noticed that Damon and I are planning to plan our wedding, more than we’re actually planning it. Our conversations go like this:
D: What will we wear?
J: I don’t know. What do you want to wear?
D: Do I have to wear a tux?
J: You don’t even have to wear a suit. We could just get you some nice new linen pants and a crisp white shirt.
D: That sounds great. What will you wear?
J: Oh, who knows? Want to go the park?
D: Yeah, let me get my shoes.

So very soon we will have to actually start, you know, buying linen pants. But it’s so pretty out that the park demands our attention. We’ve got time. Small and simple buys us the luxury of screwing around a little. Monday night is our date night, maybe we’ll use part of that to make a task list or something.

I’ve heard from everyone I’ve talked to that we have to register. I guess we will, although that feels a little weird to me. Maybe we’ll register but refuse to tell where.

In other news: I met the Target dog on Friday. Or what I’m sure is one of many Target dogs. But he had the bullseye circles around his eye and he was hilarious. There was some sort of promotion on Central Park West. I stopped short of letting them take my picture with him, but I definitely played with him longer than any of the other adults around. They gave me a collar and some toys, which I saved for Scout. Damon and I both have the bug to get a dog at the same time, which is bad. Usually one of us is the voice of reason until the urge passes. But sweet little Zoe is napping in my lap as I write this and she’s the reason I always pull the plug on the dog plan.

Yesterday I went out to the Statue of Libery and to Ellis Island. The Statue is smaller than I thought. It’s on an enormous pedestal, which wasn’t visible when I’ve looked at the Statue from building tops. So I thought it was much taller. Of course it’s all relative, the thing’s still enormous. I saw Damon’s show at Ellis, which was fun and cute, which is the point. And he worked in our neighborhood and names of my family every chance he got. He also found three or four different reasons to chuck my chin or play with my hair or whatever (I was in the third row), and that, of course, delighted me.

Damon and I are engaged!

As for anything else… who cares?