So in the bible it was stated that we would do a rehearsal of the ceremony after picnic in the park day of the town hall wedding. But it rained effectively ending the picnic and any hope I had for a rehearsal.
The provisional rehearsal scheduled Saturday before lunch ended up involving only 5 people who acted as representatives for the 15 that were actually in the ceremony. So yeah I was a little apprehensive as to how it was going to go down seeing how it was a Vietnamese/American ceremony that I made up.
We arrived at the venue and joined the wedding party in the reception area where they were hiding out from the guests. My sister in law handed me my gorgeous bouquet (I had delegated) and we were ready to start. My flower girls were all crying.
I put everyone in order for the processional. Flower girls were still crying, big giant tears.
Me: Should I take them out of the ceremony?
Sister: Let’s try to give them the baskets.
Us: Look, baskets! [said in a voice like they were the most magically thing in the world]
Nieces: [Takes baskets. Realizes they are just baskets. Cries harder]
Us: Look, flowers. Ooohhhh ahhhh.
Nieces: [Pauses to look]
Sister: [Sees her chance] Ok let’s go.
My sister with all her experience realized that during the distraction they could be moved at which point they would be too busy/confused in the shuffle to cry. But the still had to stand and wait for their turn to walk down the aisle, at which point it was anybody’s guess what they would do. Which way was it going to go?
Somewhere between the end of the world meltdown in the reception area and the end of the aisle they decided that they would be the best and most adorable flower girls in the world, gracefully paving the aisle with rose petals and effectively stealing the show.
Even though everyone at this point was like “the bride who” I followed and was instantly overwhelmed with happiness to see everyone through different parts of my life, together in one place, looking at me with my parents by my side.
We reached my husband who was waiting and smiling. There in front of all our guests we stood and stared at each other in what people probably thought was a moment of eternal love and overwelming joy but actually was me waiting for the music to change to start the Vietnamese ceremony and him wondering what I was waiting for. After about 5 minutes I said loudly “They have to change the music!”
Um no, they didn’t this had already been done when I walked down the aisle, like I had wanted. So yes I was the first person to make a mistake in a ceremony of my own creation.
On and forwards, I directed my parents to offer me gifts (pearls and a check). In keeping with the Vietnamese tradition husband and I offered them wine as thanks. I watched as my mother tried to down the entire glass. I gently pried the glass from her hands and told her she didn’t have to finish it. I looked over at my dad, who had finished the entire glass. Luckily the next step for them was to sit down.
We repeated this exercise with my parents in law and then had an American style exchange of vows and rings.
Husband and I then stood and stared at each other in what people probably thought was a moment of eternal love and overwelming joy but actually was us waiting for our maitress of ceremony to present us as a married couple, which also happened to be the dj cue to play the exit music. Two mental eye communications and a whispering nudge later, she said what was needed, the music played, and we walked away happy to have pulled it off.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
getting ready
So if you’re wondering how I managed to keep everything straight, I had developed a detailed schedule with the names of everyone and what they were supposed to be doing at what time and put this schedule in a multipage folder nicknamed “the bible”. Anytime anyone had any doubt or wanted to exercise free will I referred to the bible (or suggested they consult the version I had printed out for them).
According to the bible, my old college roommate was to start my makeup at 2pm after having finished my sister’s hair and makeup. I went into my parent’s room (whom I had kicked out due to the groom cannot see bride before wedding rule) to finally sit down and relax. It was not to be as I realized my college roommate had not even seen my sister. I went to her room to find her… asleep.
Visions of her uncombed hair at townhall danced across my mind. I woke her up. Do you want your hair and makeup done? Ok, she said and got up. I lead her to my parent’s room.
She needs to shower, my old college roommate informed me. I looked at my sister who, at this point hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for 4 days and was simply reacting to external stimuli.
But no time to worry because I myself had to shower except I didn’t have any shampoo or conditioner. I had been so pre-occupied with not forgetting anything related to the wedding that I forgot daily essentials such as basic hygiene products and cell phone chargers.
Not to worry as best old roommate ever had it covered and I got myself showered and into the chair so she could make me look my best which would apparently take 2 hours.
It was great, I was glued to the chair and couldn’t move to help someone or check on something even if I wanted to. But I could take the numerous phone calls I got from husband.
Friend: Close your eyes.
Husband: So there was a storm when I was getting ready.
Me: Uh huh.
Friend. Ok look up.
Husband: But I think it’s over.
Friend: Look at me.
Me: Uh huh.
Husband: I’m going to call the venue to get their opinion.
Me: Ok.
Friend: Look down.
15 minutes later:
[Phone rings]
Friend: No don’t move.
Me: Ok
[Phone rings]
Friend: Ok you can answer.
Me: Hello?
Husband: So I called the venue they said it’s up to us.
Me: Ok
Friend: Close your eyes.
Husband: So what should we do?
Me: Have it inside?
Friend: Don’t open your eyes!
Husband: …
Me: Sorry.
Husband: You’re apologizing does this mean you’re not sure?
Me: No, not you.
Husband: Oh.
Me: I don’t have a raincoat that goes with this dress.
Husband: I’ll call you back.
And so on and so forth. In the end he decided to risk it. But I didn’t have time to worry about it as I had to get into my dress. My mother offered to help except this was what my mother was doing and the order of her doing it:
1. Trying to iron her scarf with a hair straightener
2. Getting dressed
3. Putting on red nail polish
Number 3 rendered her absolutely useless in doing anything except trying to get out of the way of pictures the photographer was trying to take of her and apologizing for getting in his way.
At this point it’s 4:30 and we were half an hour behind schedule. Husband called to see where we were and to tell me that it was partly cloudy.
I tried to hussle everyone out of the room and downstairs, but small tasks such as opening the door proved difficult due to the fact that my movements were restricted by giant dress and opened luggage scattered across the floor. My mother was unable to open the door least she mess up her drying red nail polish. My dad neither as he is holding my 2 month old niece. Old college roommate, aka superwoman, springs into action showing me to hold my long train, opened the door, took the baby from my dad, and leads everyone downstairs.
Except for me who is left standing at t he top of the stairs in the dark, in a giant dress and ambitious shoes, train in one hand, bag with bible and wedding flip fops in the other looking down at a windy staircase.
I considered my options when husband calls to inform me it’s now cloudy. I ask if he could call his mother [the only one with a cell phone] to come and help me.
Ten minutes later and still no mother in law, I changed into wedding flip flops prematurely to try to make it down on my own when mother in law finally shows up. She helped me down and out of the hotel where I am welcomed by the sound of crying children.
No time to worry as I had to get in the car and to the venue and waiting guests.
According to the bible, my old college roommate was to start my makeup at 2pm after having finished my sister’s hair and makeup. I went into my parent’s room (whom I had kicked out due to the groom cannot see bride before wedding rule) to finally sit down and relax. It was not to be as I realized my college roommate had not even seen my sister. I went to her room to find her… asleep.
Visions of her uncombed hair at townhall danced across my mind. I woke her up. Do you want your hair and makeup done? Ok, she said and got up. I lead her to my parent’s room.
She needs to shower, my old college roommate informed me. I looked at my sister who, at this point hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for 4 days and was simply reacting to external stimuli.
But no time to worry because I myself had to shower except I didn’t have any shampoo or conditioner. I had been so pre-occupied with not forgetting anything related to the wedding that I forgot daily essentials such as basic hygiene products and cell phone chargers.
Not to worry as best old roommate ever had it covered and I got myself showered and into the chair so she could make me look my best which would apparently take 2 hours.
It was great, I was glued to the chair and couldn’t move to help someone or check on something even if I wanted to. But I could take the numerous phone calls I got from husband.
Friend: Close your eyes.
Husband: So there was a storm when I was getting ready.
Me: Uh huh.
Friend. Ok look up.
Husband: But I think it’s over.
Friend: Look at me.
Me: Uh huh.
Husband: I’m going to call the venue to get their opinion.
Me: Ok.
Friend: Look down.
15 minutes later:
[Phone rings]
Friend: No don’t move.
Me: Ok
[Phone rings]
Friend: Ok you can answer.
Me: Hello?
Husband: So I called the venue they said it’s up to us.
Me: Ok
Friend: Close your eyes.
Husband: So what should we do?
Me: Have it inside?
Friend: Don’t open your eyes!
Husband: …
Me: Sorry.
Husband: You’re apologizing does this mean you’re not sure?
Me: No, not you.
Husband: Oh.
Me: I don’t have a raincoat that goes with this dress.
Husband: I’ll call you back.
And so on and so forth. In the end he decided to risk it. But I didn’t have time to worry about it as I had to get into my dress. My mother offered to help except this was what my mother was doing and the order of her doing it:
1. Trying to iron her scarf with a hair straightener
2. Getting dressed
3. Putting on red nail polish
Number 3 rendered her absolutely useless in doing anything except trying to get out of the way of pictures the photographer was trying to take of her and apologizing for getting in his way.
At this point it’s 4:30 and we were half an hour behind schedule. Husband called to see where we were and to tell me that it was partly cloudy.
I tried to hussle everyone out of the room and downstairs, but small tasks such as opening the door proved difficult due to the fact that my movements were restricted by giant dress and opened luggage scattered across the floor. My mother was unable to open the door least she mess up her drying red nail polish. My dad neither as he is holding my 2 month old niece. Old college roommate, aka superwoman, springs into action showing me to hold my long train, opened the door, took the baby from my dad, and leads everyone downstairs.
Except for me who is left standing at t he top of the stairs in the dark, in a giant dress and ambitious shoes, train in one hand, bag with bible and wedding flip fops in the other looking down at a windy staircase.
I considered my options when husband calls to inform me it’s now cloudy. I ask if he could call his mother [the only one with a cell phone] to come and help me.
Ten minutes later and still no mother in law, I changed into wedding flip flops prematurely to try to make it down on my own when mother in law finally shows up. She helped me down and out of the hotel where I am welcomed by the sound of crying children.
No time to worry as I had to get in the car and to the venue and waiting guests.
Friday, August 24, 2012
that morning
So despite the ceremony not being until 5pm, we had to get up bright and early to do all the behind the scenes stuff. First thing we did, of course, was check the weather.
See, we had gambled. We had chosen to have the ceremony outside in the remote countryside in Normandy. Rain in the countryside with fancy shoes is no fun. We had also invested money and dedicated a good portion of the evening to releasing wish lanterns into a rainless night sky. Average rainfall in Normandy is 27 inches. Average in London is 29.
Me: So?
Husband: It’s supposed to be like yesterday
Me: You mean sunny in the morning then violent storm at 5pm the exact time of our ceremony?
Husband: That’s what it says.
Me: Maybe we should think about a plan B.
But we didn’t have time to think because we had to get the key to the gite the guests were staying at. As we did the inspection I wondered to myself if this was the kind of gite with towels. I tried to remember what I had communicated to guests.
But it was on to the next thing which was to do last minute preparations for the reception. Armed with a giant board, nails, hammer, and string to put together the table placement sign, I stood and directed father in law as he put up the board. But that’s as far as he got as he had to go to the train station to pick up the first wave of guests. Mother-in-law and I were left to do the job. Husband told me to keep an eye on my phone because he would surely be contacting us.
About 10 minutes later my phone dies and this wouldn’t have been a big deal had I not left my charger back in Paris. On the off chance I asked my mother in law if she had her charger (we have the same phone). She doubted it but because everyone will humor a stressed bride she looked in her purse and, miraculously, had it!
We shared a moment of amusement but not for long as there were things to mount and both of us had only theoretical knowledge of hammer hitting. We got it done, but flimsy would be the word to describe the result. But no time to worry as it was on to the next thing which was to have lunch.
We arrived back at the hotel to join our families who had had a leisurely morning sleeping in or walking around the premises. By the time I grouped and seated everyone I looked at the time. 1:00pm. Groom side had to leave at 3:00. I casually mentioned that there were sandwiches for those who thought maybe they would need more than one hour to get ready. They went like hotcakes. My mind went back to a week earlier when we had ordered the sandwiches for the gite guests in which husband and I had one of our typical Americans vs. French conversations.
Me: Maybe we should get some extra sandwiches for us on Saturday
Husband: Why? We can eat at the hotel.
Me: Yeah but we’ll be really busy.
Husband: Ceremony starts at 5. We have time.
Me: …
Husband: It’s our wedding day, we can have a nice lunch.
Me: Let’s just get extra sandwiches. Just in case.
I too was supposed to be sandwich eater as I was meant to accompany my parents in law to pick up the next wave of guests coming into the train station. But they insisted I stay and have a nice lunch replacing me instead with a napkin with something like “Hello, come with us Orange wedding” written on it.
Concerned but at this point exhausted from keeping everyone on schedule I did what I was told and had a lunch consisting of tactfully hurrying along 10 people and trying to make conversation with the only two French people remaining who happened to be teenagers who didn’t know anyone, didn’t speak English, and had wanted to be sandwiches eaters but were forced to stay due to lack of enough sandwiches.
See, we had gambled. We had chosen to have the ceremony outside in the remote countryside in Normandy. Rain in the countryside with fancy shoes is no fun. We had also invested money and dedicated a good portion of the evening to releasing wish lanterns into a rainless night sky. Average rainfall in Normandy is 27 inches. Average in London is 29.
Me: So?
Husband: It’s supposed to be like yesterday
Me: You mean sunny in the morning then violent storm at 5pm the exact time of our ceremony?
Husband: That’s what it says.
Me: Maybe we should think about a plan B.
But we didn’t have time to think because we had to get the key to the gite the guests were staying at. As we did the inspection I wondered to myself if this was the kind of gite with towels. I tried to remember what I had communicated to guests.
But it was on to the next thing which was to do last minute preparations for the reception. Armed with a giant board, nails, hammer, and string to put together the table placement sign, I stood and directed father in law as he put up the board. But that’s as far as he got as he had to go to the train station to pick up the first wave of guests. Mother-in-law and I were left to do the job. Husband told me to keep an eye on my phone because he would surely be contacting us.
About 10 minutes later my phone dies and this wouldn’t have been a big deal had I not left my charger back in Paris. On the off chance I asked my mother in law if she had her charger (we have the same phone). She doubted it but because everyone will humor a stressed bride she looked in her purse and, miraculously, had it!
We shared a moment of amusement but not for long as there were things to mount and both of us had only theoretical knowledge of hammer hitting. We got it done, but flimsy would be the word to describe the result. But no time to worry as it was on to the next thing which was to have lunch.
We arrived back at the hotel to join our families who had had a leisurely morning sleeping in or walking around the premises. By the time I grouped and seated everyone I looked at the time. 1:00pm. Groom side had to leave at 3:00. I casually mentioned that there were sandwiches for those who thought maybe they would need more than one hour to get ready. They went like hotcakes. My mind went back to a week earlier when we had ordered the sandwiches for the gite guests in which husband and I had one of our typical Americans vs. French conversations.
Me: Maybe we should get some extra sandwiches for us on Saturday
Husband: Why? We can eat at the hotel.
Me: Yeah but we’ll be really busy.
Husband: Ceremony starts at 5. We have time.
Me: …
Husband: It’s our wedding day, we can have a nice lunch.
Me: Let’s just get extra sandwiches. Just in case.
I too was supposed to be sandwich eater as I was meant to accompany my parents in law to pick up the next wave of guests coming into the train station. But they insisted I stay and have a nice lunch replacing me instead with a napkin with something like “Hello, come with us Orange wedding” written on it.
Concerned but at this point exhausted from keeping everyone on schedule I did what I was told and had a lunch consisting of tactfully hurrying along 10 people and trying to make conversation with the only two French people remaining who happened to be teenagers who didn’t know anyone, didn’t speak English, and had wanted to be sandwiches eaters but were forced to stay due to lack of enough sandwiches.
Monday, August 20, 2012
mairie(d)
So after finally getting the kids and themselves to bed Thursday night my family was promptly woken up at next morning so they could attend the town hall ceremony. Not by me of course, a good bride knows to delegate the dirty work.
Friend: I don’t get it, what am I suppose to do?
Me: Go to the hotel and make sure everyone gets in the car to go to town hall.
Friend: If they are going from the lobby to the car, I don't know what I can do to help facilitate.
Me: I need you there. Just in case.
Friend: In case... of… what?
Me: Just in case.
When soon to be husband and I got to town hall we saw that some people had already arrived. Our families were not amongst them. Stbh pulled out his cell phone while I greeted everyone.
10 minutes before our appointment time there was still no sign of our families or friends sent to help them. I turned to sobh with panicked eyes. They’re coming he reassured me. I was not reassured, until finally I saw my friends approaching town hall.
Me: Was it ok?
Friend 1: [Eyes of someone who just survived a traumatic event] It was not ok.
Me: Why what happened?
Friend 1: Nobody was ready. Except the Japanese couple.
Me: Oh.
Friend 1: We called and called and nobodypicked up.
Me: Oh.
Friend 2: They had so many bags!!! [Sweat pouring down her face]
But alas I didn’t have time to get the details because I had to, you know, get married. Later my brother filled me in. He was staying at my apartment and I had sent him that same morning to help out.
He got there thinking everyone will be up and ready to check out. He instead saw my sister trying to put pants on her 2 year old daughter. He decided to take charge:
Brother:Why isn’t anyone ready?
Sister:[stares at him with the look of a woman who hasn’t slept for 3 days and is fighting to put pants on a 2 year old and losing]
Brother: Ok, ok, it’s cool.
After everyone is finally ready and fully dressed, my mother decides, 10 minutes before leaving, that the shirts that my father and brother were currently wearing needed ironing. Even if this involved my dad going downstairs to ask for an iron and everyone taking off their shirts.
So that is why nobody was ready. Why didn’t they answer the phone? My sister had taken the phones off the hook because it had become a toy for the girls and she was afraid they would dial the police or China.
But in the end everyone made it and into their respective seats for the town hall ceremony. Relieved I turned to look at, my sister seated next to me on my wedding day:
Me: Did you comb your hair?
Sister: [stare of a woman who hasn’t slept for 3 days and, as I was told later, had put on makeup for the occasion]
Me Ok,ok, it’s cool.
Friend: I don’t get it, what am I suppose to do?
Me: Go to the hotel and make sure everyone gets in the car to go to town hall.
Friend: If they are going from the lobby to the car, I don't know what I can do to help facilitate.
Me: I need you there. Just in case.
Friend: In case... of… what?
Me: Just in case.
When soon to be husband and I got to town hall we saw that some people had already arrived. Our families were not amongst them. Stbh pulled out his cell phone while I greeted everyone.
10 minutes before our appointment time there was still no sign of our families or friends sent to help them. I turned to sobh with panicked eyes. They’re coming he reassured me. I was not reassured, until finally I saw my friends approaching town hall.
Me: Was it ok?
Friend 1: [Eyes of someone who just survived a traumatic event] It was not ok.
Me: Why what happened?
Friend 1: Nobody was ready. Except the Japanese couple.
Me: Oh.
Friend 1: We called and called and nobodypicked up.
Me: Oh.
Friend 2: They had so many bags!!! [Sweat pouring down her face]
But alas I didn’t have time to get the details because I had to, you know, get married. Later my brother filled me in. He was staying at my apartment and I had sent him that same morning to help out.
He got there thinking everyone will be up and ready to check out. He instead saw my sister trying to put pants on her 2 year old daughter. He decided to take charge:
Brother:Why isn’t anyone ready?
Sister:[stares at him with the look of a woman who hasn’t slept for 3 days and is fighting to put pants on a 2 year old and losing]
Brother: Ok, ok, it’s cool.
After everyone is finally ready and fully dressed, my mother decides, 10 minutes before leaving, that the shirts that my father and brother were currently wearing needed ironing. Even if this involved my dad going downstairs to ask for an iron and everyone taking off their shirts.
So that is why nobody was ready. Why didn’t they answer the phone? My sister had taken the phones off the hook because it had become a toy for the girls and she was afraid they would dial the police or China.
But in the end everyone made it and into their respective seats for the town hall ceremony. Relieved I turned to look at, my sister seated next to me on my wedding day:
Me: Did you comb your hair?
Sister: [stare of a woman who hasn’t slept for 3 days and, as I was told later, had put on makeup for the occasion]
Me Ok,ok, it’s cool.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
A bride, 3 nieces, and a baby
So I took a week off before the wedding to do some last minute stuff and to welcome people coming into Paris, including my sister, her husband, their 3 little girls and a baby. That’s right.
Let’s go back a year to September 2011 to this conversation:
Sister: I’m pregnant
Me: [what about the wedding?!!!!] Congratulations!!!!
Sister: Thanks
Me: [A baby is good news... a baby is good news... a baby is good news...] Great news!
Sister: Yearh
Me: So… when are you due?
Sister: End of May
Me: [what about the wedding in August?????] Aw, that’s great.
The above is the reason why I did not know if my sister, my matron of honor, was in fact coming to the wedding and the reason why my family did not book their flight to Paris until about one month before. There were ideas about bribing uncles to come along as full time au pairs, other ideas about only bringings ome of the children, and then of course there was my fear that nobody would come at all. But in the end it was decided that everyone was coming.
I quickly sprang into action looking for things like car booster seats and making other needed arrangements to accommodate 5 adults, 3 kids, and a baby.
So finally they arrived one day before town hall wedding and I went to the airport to pick everyone up. The sleep deprived adults emerged first pushing carts with mounds of baggage topped with sleepy/unhappy/crying children. I quickly ushered them into the rented minivan and to their hotel room.
I left them to sleep and meet some friends coming in that needed briefing on their role in the wedding. Only when I got to the friend’s hotel room they hadn’t checked in yet even though it was now 3 hours after their flight got in. Concerned I sat and waited when my phone rang. Thinking it was my friends I answered. It was instead, my sister.
Sister: Whatcha doing?
Me: Waiting for some friends, what’s up?
Sister: Um. Husband is passed out but kids are awake. All 4 of them. It’s kind of... hard.
Me: Oh
Sister: I just thought if you weren’t doing anything…
Me: Well…
Sister: Cause you know I haven’t slept in 2 days.
Me: Ok
Sister: And the girls have strep.
Me: Ok.
I left a message for my friends and headed back to the hotel room where the zombie that replaced my sister answered the door. I quickly took over and played with the girls as my sister lied down for a nap.
As I am entertaining two of the four, I see one of them inch towards my sister.
Me: Hey, come here what do you need?
Niece: I want to tell Mommy something
Me: You can tell me.
Niece: [looking reluctant]
Me: It’s ok, you can tell me and after we can tell Mommy when she wakes up from her nap, ok?
Niece: I poo-ed in my pants.
Me: Oh.
But it’s cool, I’ve dealt with niece poo before, I got this. But I didn’t have to. Why? Because my sister hears this after not having slept for 2 day, gets up, and says, I kid you not, don’t worry Kelly I got it.
I do believe in love.
Let’s go back a year to September 2011 to this conversation:
Sister: I’m pregnant
Me: [what about the wedding?!!!!] Congratulations!!!!
Sister: Thanks
Me: [A baby is good news... a baby is good news... a baby is good news...] Great news!
Sister: Yearh
Me: So… when are you due?
Sister: End of May
Me: [what about the wedding in August?????] Aw, that’s great.
The above is the reason why I did not know if my sister, my matron of honor, was in fact coming to the wedding and the reason why my family did not book their flight to Paris until about one month before. There were ideas about bribing uncles to come along as full time au pairs, other ideas about only bringings ome of the children, and then of course there was my fear that nobody would come at all. But in the end it was decided that everyone was coming.
I quickly sprang into action looking for things like car booster seats and making other needed arrangements to accommodate 5 adults, 3 kids, and a baby.
So finally they arrived one day before town hall wedding and I went to the airport to pick everyone up. The sleep deprived adults emerged first pushing carts with mounds of baggage topped with sleepy/unhappy/crying children. I quickly ushered them into the rented minivan and to their hotel room.
I left them to sleep and meet some friends coming in that needed briefing on their role in the wedding. Only when I got to the friend’s hotel room they hadn’t checked in yet even though it was now 3 hours after their flight got in. Concerned I sat and waited when my phone rang. Thinking it was my friends I answered. It was instead, my sister.
Sister: Whatcha doing?
Me: Waiting for some friends, what’s up?
Sister: Um. Husband is passed out but kids are awake. All 4 of them. It’s kind of... hard.
Me: Oh
Sister: I just thought if you weren’t doing anything…
Me: Well…
Sister: Cause you know I haven’t slept in 2 days.
Me: Ok
Sister: And the girls have strep.
Me: Ok.
I left a message for my friends and headed back to the hotel room where the zombie that replaced my sister answered the door. I quickly took over and played with the girls as my sister lied down for a nap.
As I am entertaining two of the four, I see one of them inch towards my sister.
Me: Hey, come here what do you need?
Niece: I want to tell Mommy something
Me: You can tell me.
Niece: [looking reluctant]
Me: It’s ok, you can tell me and after we can tell Mommy when she wakes up from her nap, ok?
Niece: I poo-ed in my pants.
Me: Oh.
But it’s cool, I’ve dealt with niece poo before, I got this. But I didn’t have to. Why? Because my sister hears this after not having slept for 2 day, gets up, and says, I kid you not, don’t worry Kelly I got it.
I do believe in love.
Friday, August 17, 2012
say yes to the dress
So some London friends of mine came down to Paris to help me pick out a wedding dress. After a disappointing botched appointment (the place I called turned out not to be the one I wanted) we finally made it to a cute second hand boutique where the lady delicately laid out dresses I had requested to try.
The first on the list I had high hopes for because it was 1. new and not used and 2. cost 300 Euros. I tried it on and crossed my fingers.
My friends loved it. I mentally checked off dress on the list of things to do.
But because trying on pretty dresses and having people ohhhh and ahhhh at you is so much fun we decided to try on all the dresses. From mermaid to long train, I tried it all.
Then we got to the last dress which was one that I thought would be just fun to try on mostly because it looked like a ballerina dress mullet in the picture; short tulle in the front and long fabric in the back. But in reality the tulle was floor length with a long fabric train.
Anywho I tried it on and that’s when dilemma struck. I loved it. The silhouette was unique, asymmetrical neckline with a low waist. An added bonus was the drawstring back giving endless eating potential. The other dress I would have to eat and suck. This dress would do the work for me.
This dress also cost twice the price of the other dress.
I turned to my friends for guidance. They were also torn. Did I want white or ivory? New or used? Simple or drama? Dress or dress and iphone?
As we woooed and hummed, one of my friends starts putting something on my wrist. I know you won’t like it Kelly , she said, but I just can’t make out what it is and I just want to see what it looks like.
I looked down and there, sitting on my wrist was this amazing golden wire crystal cuff bracelet that went with this dress and this dress only.
I bought the dress. Or at least I tried to. I had brought my checkbook but they wanted id (duh) which was sitting in my apartment 45 metro minutes away. I tried to use my bankcard but because it was the end of the month I was past my monthly limit.
ATM? Tried it but the price surpassed my daily limit.
In the end, the three of us fully employed women scrounged together money like college students trying to buy pizza and came up with the right amount.
I have the best friends.
The first on the list I had high hopes for because it was 1. new and not used and 2. cost 300 Euros. I tried it on and crossed my fingers.
My friends loved it. I mentally checked off dress on the list of things to do.
But because trying on pretty dresses and having people ohhhh and ahhhh at you is so much fun we decided to try on all the dresses. From mermaid to long train, I tried it all.
Then we got to the last dress which was one that I thought would be just fun to try on mostly because it looked like a ballerina dress mullet in the picture; short tulle in the front and long fabric in the back. But in reality the tulle was floor length with a long fabric train.
Anywho I tried it on and that’s when dilemma struck. I loved it. The silhouette was unique, asymmetrical neckline with a low waist. An added bonus was the drawstring back giving endless eating potential. The other dress I would have to eat and suck. This dress would do the work for me.
This dress also cost twice the price of the other dress.
I turned to my friends for guidance. They were also torn. Did I want white or ivory? New or used? Simple or drama? Dress or dress and iphone?
As we woooed and hummed, one of my friends starts putting something on my wrist. I know you won’t like it Kelly , she said, but I just can’t make out what it is and I just want to see what it looks like.
I looked down and there, sitting on my wrist was this amazing golden wire crystal cuff bracelet that went with this dress and this dress only.
I bought the dress. Or at least I tried to. I had brought my checkbook but they wanted id (duh) which was sitting in my apartment 45 metro minutes away. I tried to use my bankcard but because it was the end of the month I was past my monthly limit.
ATM? Tried it but the price surpassed my daily limit.
In the end, the three of us fully employed women scrounged together money like college students trying to buy pizza and came up with the right amount.
I have the best friends.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
do you believe in love?
So in France they have this thing about official documents expiring. Every time I submit a document it has to be dated less than x number of months. And birth certificates are no exceptions.
I too was surprised when I presented my actual birth certificate to town hall and they politely turned it away asking instead for an official copy dated less than 6 months.
Me: How am I supposed to get that?
Lady: From the place that issued it in the first place [said in a matter of fact kind of way]
Me: You mean, in Vietnam.
Lady: Yes
Me: [bright idea to play the war card]. But I escaped when I was 5 due to the WAR.
Lady: [confused look on her face]
BF: She means war
I had apparently reduced the impact of the word war by mispronouncing it and saying instead train station. But not like it made a difference as the woman remained stonefaced.
So I called my parents to see if they could in fact procure this copy for me. I then spent 45 minutes explaining to my father why I needed this, which is in fact very hard since I myself did not understand why I needed it. The only thing I managed to convince my dad was that I should get married in the States.
The next day I called the Vietnamese embassy in Paris to see if they could do something for me since this must happen to a lot of Vietnamese people who want to get married in France. After convincing the lady that I was not, in fact, interested in a holiday Vietnam visa, I explained my situation and asked if she could help me. Sorry she said, they could only issue copies of birth certificates for French citizens but if I wanted a Vietnam holiday visa she would be more than happy to help me.
Then I got a call from my mom that went something like this:
Mom: I heard you need a copy of your birth certificate to get married in France. Why can’t you use the original?
[10 minutes of explaining]
Me. Yeah but don’t worry I think I’m just going to call the Vietnam embassy in the States.
Mom: No don’t do that, they’re shady.
Me: What do you mean… shady?
Mom: I’ve heard bad things about them.
Me: Uh, I’m sure it’s fine.
Mom: No, don’t worry I have contacts in Vietnam. They know people who say they could get it.
Me: What… people?
Mom: Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.
About 4 months go by without word from these “people” when I realized that all the other papers I got from the U.S. embassy were going to expire like bad milk. Desperate I went to the US embassy to explain my problem hoping they could do something. I even had a speech prepared that begin with “Do you believe in love” and ended with “which means I’ve been doing this for 5 months”. I was also prepared to cry.
They were understanding and printed out a form titled “Birth certificate affidavit” that I myself filled out, got it stamped, paid my 50 bucks and left happy with at least something.
That night 50 dollar poorer yet happy and full of joy, I put together our dossier with all the papers we needed when I realized that I could not in fact submit the dossier because of a small problem.
All of bf’s papers had expired!
I then took a very, very long nap.
When bf finally got around to getting his documents (again) we submitted our dossier only to be told that the 50 dollar affidavit did not in fact cut it, and that they would have to launch an international inquiry.
Us: How long would this take?
Guy: Maybe a year.
Us: But we already booked and paid for the venue and people have already booked and paid for their tickets to come to France.
Guy: [audible shrug]
Us: Do you believe in love…?
That night I called my sister for sympathy.
Sister: You mean I’m shleping my husband, 3 kids and a baby to France for a symbolic ceremony?
Me: …um. Do you believe in love?
One month before the date of our pretend wedding bf calls me to tell me our dossier had been accepted. Nobody knows what happed to the international inquiry.
I too was surprised when I presented my actual birth certificate to town hall and they politely turned it away asking instead for an official copy dated less than 6 months.
Me: How am I supposed to get that?
Lady: From the place that issued it in the first place [said in a matter of fact kind of way]
Me: You mean, in Vietnam.
Lady: Yes
Me: [bright idea to play the war card]. But I escaped when I was 5 due to the WAR.
Lady: [confused look on her face]
BF: She means war
I had apparently reduced the impact of the word war by mispronouncing it and saying instead train station. But not like it made a difference as the woman remained stonefaced.
So I called my parents to see if they could in fact procure this copy for me. I then spent 45 minutes explaining to my father why I needed this, which is in fact very hard since I myself did not understand why I needed it. The only thing I managed to convince my dad was that I should get married in the States.
The next day I called the Vietnamese embassy in Paris to see if they could do something for me since this must happen to a lot of Vietnamese people who want to get married in France. After convincing the lady that I was not, in fact, interested in a holiday Vietnam visa, I explained my situation and asked if she could help me. Sorry she said, they could only issue copies of birth certificates for French citizens but if I wanted a Vietnam holiday visa she would be more than happy to help me.
Then I got a call from my mom that went something like this:
Mom: I heard you need a copy of your birth certificate to get married in France. Why can’t you use the original?
[10 minutes of explaining]
Me. Yeah but don’t worry I think I’m just going to call the Vietnam embassy in the States.
Mom: No don’t do that, they’re shady.
Me: What do you mean… shady?
Mom: I’ve heard bad things about them.
Me: Uh, I’m sure it’s fine.
Mom: No, don’t worry I have contacts in Vietnam. They know people who say they could get it.
Me: What… people?
Mom: Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.
About 4 months go by without word from these “people” when I realized that all the other papers I got from the U.S. embassy were going to expire like bad milk. Desperate I went to the US embassy to explain my problem hoping they could do something. I even had a speech prepared that begin with “Do you believe in love” and ended with “which means I’ve been doing this for 5 months”. I was also prepared to cry.
They were understanding and printed out a form titled “Birth certificate affidavit” that I myself filled out, got it stamped, paid my 50 bucks and left happy with at least something.
That night 50 dollar poorer yet happy and full of joy, I put together our dossier with all the papers we needed when I realized that I could not in fact submit the dossier because of a small problem.
All of bf’s papers had expired!
I then took a very, very long nap.
When bf finally got around to getting his documents (again) we submitted our dossier only to be told that the 50 dollar affidavit did not in fact cut it, and that they would have to launch an international inquiry.
Us: How long would this take?
Guy: Maybe a year.
Us: But we already booked and paid for the venue and people have already booked and paid for their tickets to come to France.
Guy: [audible shrug]
Us: Do you believe in love…?
That night I called my sister for sympathy.
Sister: You mean I’m shleping my husband, 3 kids and a baby to France for a symbolic ceremony?
Me: …um. Do you believe in love?
One month before the date of our pretend wedding bf calls me to tell me our dossier had been accepted. Nobody knows what happed to the international inquiry.
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