Life in the Slow Lane

Very faithful, very loyal readers of my blog may have noticed a sharp decrease in the number of posts in the last year. This results primarily from the cloud of thank you notes awaiting attention for approximately the same amount of time. Every time I felt an inclination to write on my blog, I redirected myself as the simple equation this year has needed to be "writing = thank you notes". But dear friends, my magic year given to me by all manner of manners experts comes to a close in two days, and I still have a pile (smaller, yes, but still a pile) of notes to write. And all impending deadlines of doom must be met with procrastination of the highest order: blogging. I attended a writers conference earlier this week. One of the workshops was for bloggers, and the leader shared all sorts of helpful information. The most encouraging thing, perhaps, was his retelling of the confession of one of the best bloggers of our time saying that he hadn't written a single good blog p...

Most of the gifts I am writing thank you notes are things that either SOS or I chose to put on our registry. But interspersed among them all are the occasional "I thought of you when I saw this because it just looked like something you would like." And friends, that is a very, very, very disturbing thought at times. No further comment.

(The official word is that this is me writing a thank you note. I would appreciate all of your vows of secrecy.) But when you have just been through the third bridal shower in as many days, and with two additional showers in recent memory, there comes a time when you must stop and blog about it, regardless of exactly how many thank you notes are waiting to be written. And, for the sake of all of my dear loyal readers who have survived far too long without a post of some sort, I write. First, I would like to enter a new malady into the great big book of syndromes: Shower Thumbs. This is what happens when you tear open the wrapping on packages. It is akin to multiple paper cuts, but easier to survive because of the fun of tearing into brightly wrapped gifts. Second, I would like to mention some of the most interesting gifts SOS and I received. Of course, the gift that takes the "weirdest-what-on-earth-are-we-going-to-do-with-it?" prize is the XXXXXL (yes, that is 5XL) T-shirt...

The email I received the other day started like this: Now that the dust has settled from your shower on Sunday, I was wondering if... I think I may have burst out into hysterical laughter, but I don't remember. I'm not sure how someone can be under the impression that the bride will have more time after her first shower. This morning I woke up from a nightmare where two people were chasing me down to kill me and I was running from place to place asking everyone if they could tell me when and where my next shower was because I didn't want to miss it. Because, of course, making it to your own bridal shower on time is just that important. I think I've reached that point where I'm misplacing important information in some corner or another of my mind and room. Both are equally cluttered at this stage. I'm not even sure I can find the surface the dust was supposedly to have settled on, but if I do find some, I have more showers approaching to take care of it.

My landlady told me two weeks ago that David and I should save time and just handout our wedding invitations as people arrive at the ceremony. Two days ago she said that we could just include the wedding invitation when we send the thank you notes. I don't remember seeing anything about that in the etiquette books.

I am issuing a general apology to everyone to whom I have previously said "Well, just remember that the important thing is that at the end of all of this crazy wedding planning, you will be married." The reason I am issuing a general apology is that I am earnestly doing my best to suppress all memories of any specific instances where I said such an absurd thing. Of course, the important thing is that I will be married to SOS, but there seem to be a great many other "the important things". Such as inviting people. Or finding a place to live. Or not forgetting to add oil to my car. Or paying my taxes. I have heard this phrase a lot recently, and my mind conjures up the final scene in Walt Disney's version of Robin Hood where he and Maid Marian ride off in their carriage with everything Happily Ever After The End. I somehow suspect that the closing credits would not roll with such a sense of good will and happiness toward all if you could have seen Maid Marian stu...

And I say that will all humility. We've been registering for home items, SOS and I. And sometime during the course of "is it permissible to register for things like cheese cloth and bathroom soap" it was suggested that maybe we really ought to register for at least SOME tools, as every household needs a hammer and the like. So yesterday found us in Sears with a scanner and aisle upon aisle of tools. Of course, they all look the same to me (except for the new brand that comes with lime green accessories) but SOS actually knew that each tool has a different purpose... and he knew the purpose!! And since he knew what each tool is for, I let him decide what to scan. Along about the third "theetbabeep" of the scanner, I began to revisit the question of what exactly wedding guests would and would not be willing to count as "necessary for starting a home." And then I had a brilliant stroke of epiphany: If not a single item was purchased off this list, I woul...

Today the count-down brought us to 89 days and I thought I would share with you what this particular day looked like for Slowlane the Bride-to-be. 5:55 Slowlane opens her eyes, sees what time it is and closes her eyes. 6:30 Slowlane's alarm clock goes off and in reaching to turn it off, she finds the thermometer. 6:32 Through a highly scientific method evaluating her temperature, how many times she had to open her mouth to breathe during the temperature taking process, and the number and productivity of coughs and the number of kleenexes needed before 6:30, she decides she is well enough to go to work. 6:55 Slowlane sorts through her recent pay stubs trying to find the most recent ones for verification of her income for the meeting later in the day. 7:40 Slowlane remembers why it was she was going to get up early when she gets to the kitchen to eat breakfast and sees a sink full of dirty dishes. 8:06 Slowlane finally leaves for work and sees she missed a phone call from S.O.S. She ...

This week marks three years since the first of my siblings got married. I am one of five, and the only one not yet "hitched". As anyone knows, coming at the end always creates a great deal of expectation to maintain traditions, but I always was the really rebellious one (just ask my sister about the only time she thinks I ever got into trouble). So speaking of traditions, let me share with those of you who are not aware, some of the numbers involved with the four marriages that have already occurred among my siblings: #1) Two wedding ceremonies, two receptions, two languages #2) Three ceremonies, four receptions/after parties, two languages #3) One ceremony, three receptions, two languages #4) Two ceremonies, two receptions, two languages Folks, I plan to do what has never been done before. Yes, dear readers after a total of 8 ceremonies and 11 receptions with significant usage of multiple languages, I plan to break the mold! Who knows whether it is actually possible?!? But ...

Early on someone gave me this tip to narrowing down a "much too large" wedding guest list: Only invite people you have talked to in the last six months. I think if I were to do this, I might end up with only ten friends at my wedding... and that would be a very lonely feeling indeed. Well, I suppose I could invite the man who informed me that all of a certain central African country was mad at me (I heard from him the other day, he says that this is no reason why we cannot still be friends.) or maybe even the woman who braved the wire tap on her phone line to tell me that the mafia, the catholics, and the military were all thick together "if you get my meaning". But friends I actually know who I have talked to in the last six months? Certainly not enough to justify getting much more than a wedding cupcake. That is until in one moment of wedding planning procrastination I started a Facebook profile. And in four days I found 46 friends. Yes, of course, it would be ...