I awoke last Tuesday, the morning of my bridal portriat, at 7:00 and heard rain outside. My immediate thought was that my hair was going to flop. My second thought was that I had hoped to take pictures out side. Fuck.
I had "slept" the night before in pink foam rollers trying to get my hair to take a curl. Of course if you have ever tried to do this, you know it is nearly impossible to sleep in foam rollers. So I was ill rested, wide awake and already mildly freaked.
So I got up and put my bathrobe on. A facial mask and some fuzzy slippers would have completed the ensemble and I would have been perfectly attired to run to Piggly Wiggly for some smokes and a Diet Coke.
While Josh slept I began painting my nails while watching In Search Of on SciFi. Not the old good ones from the '70s narrated by Leonard Nimoy, the new cheesy ones hosted by Mitch Peleggi, or A.D. Skinner on the X-files.
I had bought a french manicure kit since I don't get my nails done, so I spent about 20 minutes making sure the little stickers were on right then painted my tips white. I let them dry, peeled off the stickers and put some pink on. The results? Meh...
I redid four of them because the white had run under the sticker and wasn't clean enough for me. So I redid those and they still didn't look right.
So then I moved on to getting Josh up (about 9:30 now) and unrolling my hair to see if the curl took. It didn't.
And that was when I began to take bets on how long before I needed a Klonopin.
I rewashed my hair and rerolled it in smaller peices. Then it occured to me that I needed a laundry steamer since my gown had been in the bag for the last few months.
My Matron of Honor has a laundry steamer she bought for her wedding and I had planned on borrowing hers, but forgot to call the day before. So the hunt for Linda began.
I called her at home and on her cell phone. No answer. I called back and left a message on each. Thankfully she called me back right away. She and her husband are moving at the end of August and were an hour away looking for a place to live. So I handed the phone to Josh so she could tell him where the steamer was. (No way am I leaving the house looking like I did.) I drew him a picture of the thing and he set off.