I had the nightmare about forgetting the wedding dress last night. I've been expecting that one for weeks now. I've already been through the hair/makeup one (although that's resurfacing in light of recent events) It's like card trading, collect them all! I guess it must not disturb my psyche much to go barefoot at my wedding, as there has been nothing at all about SHOES.
I laughed in mockery of the rest of the country too soon, I see. There are whispers of a high of 108 for Saturday. Please permit me to cry now. In the same way that most elderly southern California homes do not have a heating system, most older homes in Portland don't have air conditioning. I'll be hiding in the basement on Saturday, and I better hit the gym before 9 am unless I really enjoy heat stroke (I am too cheap to belong to the Big Chain gym; instead I belong to the Ghetto gym which doesn't have AC, but which has a huge golden statue of a bulging muscle man. It's all about the priorities.)
Strangely enough, the Lily of the Valley stole has lately become kind of a comfort knit. Yeah, all those nupps. After a couple dozen of them they aren't so bad.
I had a makeup episode yesterday. I think it went quite well, really. She was very very good at the whole "subtle" bit, and I liked the look of it (although still kind of startling to me, who never wears anything). However, K told me my lips looked too shiny (well DUH, I am wearing lipstick, it has that effect) and my cheeks were weird. I didn't take it so well.
I should consider myself lucky that he prefers me not wearing any makeup, seeing as I never do. But it's like, I don't know, I WANT to look like me, but at the same time better. It's not really working out that way though. I get the feeling that it's like dressing up a raccoon -- it doesn't matter how much makeup or what you dress it up as -- it still looks like a raccoon.
Everyone keeps talking about the pictures. Screw the pictures. I want good memories more than pictures. This whole thing has become something of an body acceptance exercise, where I just have to stop worrying and just go with what I look like and accept that it's not going to change. I wonder why the makeup is freaking K out but doing up the hair is not. Oh wait, *I* am freaking about the hair, but only the part dealing with Product and Hairspray and Some Kind of Volcanic Goo (I am NOT kidding) mixed up in it. Bah.
So, I came home and K did his bleh shiny lips thing then I cried a little and knit 6 rows on the stole. Perhaps it is the fact that I spent 2 hours at that dumb salon, when I could have been knitting instead.
Because Angst is boring, here are some socks: