When this wedding is over I am soooooo going to Paris. Actually, that’s not true. We can’t do the honeymoon yet (we need to save for it and I don’t have a break from teaching until next summer) but I’m starting to see the point of a vacation after the chaos of the wedding. Most of the wedding planning has been an exercise in communication AKA walking through a mine field. I’m trying to include the Moms in decisions, and sorta made a big error there this week. Trying to make sure Kealoha has a wedding that represents him and me and our values and our sense of humor and is respectful and….Aw, man. It’s exhausting.
This week, though, was actually fun, even though Kealoha is battling a migraine that makes him all squinty-eyed and a little morose. Still, he plowed through it.
On Wednesday afternoon, I got my hair done. I asked for highlights and requested that they not look steaky. I said I was getting engagement pictures, and I wanted to look all auburn sexy. When she was done with my hair, it basically looked exactly as it had when I came in…only STREAKY. Dammit. It was too late for me to do anything.
I ran home. Got dressed. Kealoha was in the basement with a slight fever and his shirt off, panting or something. (Migraine, I’m telling you.) So I got things ready for the engagement photos. We planned it outdoors and it was a beautiful day until the photographer got here and it started pouring. And I never did lose the weight I wanted to. I pretty much look puffy.
We did the awkward poses while Kealoha tried to keep his eyes open (hard to do with a migraine) and I tried to suck in my gut while looking deep into his eyes and smiling. I’ll tell you more about this experience, but I’ll wait til I can show the pictures. In short, I’m bloated-looking, streaky, and awkwardly happy. Just perfect for a picture above our fireplace. That will be there FOREVER. * sigh *
Then, oh THEN, we had our tasting at the JW. They’ve never done an hor d’oeurvres wedding before, so the staff seemed excited. They led us into the belly of the JW, through back hallways. I was wearing really tall sandals and I was hoping I didn’t fall and break my foot. Again. Then they led us into the kitchen and into the chefs’ office, where a table was set up just for us. There was some general awkward conversation with the JW event “Dream Maker” and the woman in charge of the running of the wedding. Then they brought out the food.
I have to say, I’m damned excited. It’s soooo good. The foodie in me was delighted. The mushroom soup is creamy and umami is probably lurking there (but I still don’t understand what that is). I ate everything in front of us, and some of Kealoha’s. It’s probably why I’m all puffy still. He tried the mai tai, made some educated corrections, and the second mai tai was perfect. They also mixed us a mojito. So divine. Our dessert is a mini dessert buffet. We nixed the flourless chocolate cake and replaced it with a cupcake. It’s okay. The truffle is pure decadence…and I actually licked my crème brulee bowl.
I don’t care what I looked like, licking the bowl with my florid face and streaky hair. Kealoha could barely see me with his eyes pinched closed, and his opinion is the only one I care about anyway.
So. Next week. Back to teaching, narrating (abridged book) and more wedding details. The Moms are working on cocktail tables and centerpieces and I’m trying to stick to a no wheat, veggie loaded diet. Muther humper. But in a little over thirty days, Kealoha and I will be hitched, and all of this stress will be far away. We won’t be in Paris, but we’ll be one step closer.
And I have all those appetizers to look forward to.