Two weeks from today, my oldest daughter is getting married to the man of her dreams in a what is sure to be a lovely outdoor California summer afternoon wedding on a grassy spot near a chicken coop in a town where temperatures are predicted to be in the upper '90s. I am not even making up the part about the chicken coop either.
Obviously, the real question on everyone's mind lately is "What will Cheri wear?"
To begin with, this is my dress. Obviously, when I wear this dress I will look exactly like the woman in the picture, except for the shoes:
What? It's true. These are my shoes:
My shoes had to be:
a) sandals because my big toe is still totally messed up and I'm about to lose the nail again
b) platforms because heels would sink and my feet need to be up very high because I'm allergic to grass
c) up very high so that I
d) all of the above
e) none of the above matters because I'm going to fall off of the platforms and end up in ER before the ceremony even begins
If you're
Also? Laura's college fund went by the wayside when I noticed that the Mac
As the Mac God was showing me various items in black lacquer pots and tubes and bottles, he reached out, took my hand, and looked right into my eyes.
Mac God (holding my hand): "Promise me something."
Me: "Okay."
Mac God: "When you apply makeup to your eyes, start at the brow and work down to the lashes."
Me: "Okay."
Mac God (squeezing my hand): "Promise me. Really."
Me: "I promise."
And I meant every word of it, too. Also? I bought every single thing he told me to buy.
Of course, I quickly realized that in order to actually put on the dress, I would need to put on two pair of these, which cost more than the dress, by the way:
Of course, I then realized that in order to actually put on two pair of Spanx, I would need to put this on my buttocks, thighs, and belly:
Of course, then I realized that in order to put on enough lube to put on two pair of Spanx, I would need to go here:
Dress? Check. Shoes? Check. Spanx x 2? Check. Makeup? Check. Promise to start eye makeup at brow? Check. W.A.I.T. Brows? Not check. Maybe I should get them waxed again, after all, my first experience getting my eyebrows waxed wasn't so bad.
Except this is what happened when I went back, and, by the way, this is the good side . . .
And, I'm not even joking when I tell you that starting today my brow wounds developed scabs. Please promise me that they will be healed in two weeks. Please. It's okay to lie about this. Promise me. Really.
There is good news though! While I was at the store looking for fake toenails, I spotted these:
But seriously folks?
None of the above matters one little bit (unless I do fall off the shoes and it ends up on YouTube) because . . .
All eyes will be exactly where they are supposed to be on my beautiful daughter's wedding day. And judging by the look in his eyes now, I'd say the groom's will be where they're supposed to be for as long as they both shall live.
(Photos, not of the bride and groom and the one to be used in pending eyebrow-waxing litigation, were lovingly borrowed from Google Images and used for a greater good. "A greater good" being an exception to copyright laws, I'm pretty sure. Not that any copyright laws were violated, of course, because I'm not that sort of person. Duh.)
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