The book of love is long and boring / No one can lift the damn thing
It’s full of charts and facts and figures / and instructions for dancing
but I / I love it when you read to me and you / you can read me anything
The book of love has music in it / In fact that’s where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental / Some of it is just really dumb but I
I love it when you sing to me and you / you can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring / and written very long ago
It’s full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes / and things we’re all
too young to know but I / I love it when you give me things and you
you ought to give me wedding rings I / I love it when you give me things
and you / you ought to give me wedding rings
— The Magnetic Fields
Not a great night’s sleep. Started raining early this morning, and Kate jumped out of bed to close all the windows. Then I jumped up to close the car windows (which, once I went outside wearing only underwear and some car keys, I discovered were already closed). Then up at 6 for my weekly conference call with India. Then I worked on our wedding budget (over, over, over, but we’re past the point of caring), grabbed a quick half-hour more shuteye (with my mind whirling about all that we need to get done today) before bowing to the inevitable and coming downstairs to start work. I suspect I’m going to be in dire need of a nap after work, and I also know there’s not a chance in hell I’ll get one. Tent’s going up after lunch, loose ends to tie up at work, finish designing programs, etc, etc.
Thank god for our friends and family. This whole effort would have fallen to pieces weeks ago without’em.
Woke this morning out of a dream in which I was walking around a construction site with Tucker Carlson talking about the current state of the conservative philosophy in America right now. Apparently after leaving Crossfire, the construction job was the only one he could get, so we meandered long hallways of stacked plywood and sheetrock while debating the merits of small government and social mobility against progressive taxation and a mild socialist safety net.
I don’t think I convinced him, but then I’m not sure there’s any genuine conviction there — once he took on the public persona of That Conservative Guy, I think it’d be a death warrant for his career to ever significantly change his tune. (That said, he did turn around about the Iraq War, so maybe there’s hope.)
When one has spent months getting all spreadsheet-happy about the wedding, and one has 5 worksheets of various sizes and descriptions, and one is feeling very smug about the clever ways in which one used conditional formatting to make pretty colored columns showing how many adults are eating from which category and how many children, one should not (on the evening of Monday, some 12 hours after one gave the caterers the really-now-we’re-not-kidding Final Headcount) realize that the reason the number of people getting seated is 2 people off from the number of people on the guest list is because on the guest list one didn’t include the Bride and Groom. “Oops.”
It’s Monday morning. Kate and I cleaned up the house this weekend and did various prep things for the wedding, to wit:
- Cleaned, straightened, rearranged the living room furniture so we could practice dancing
- Practiced dancing to Our Song and freaked ourselves right out by going all deer-in-headlights midway through. The first dance is where I’m focussing my anxiety, apparently. Over the last couple of days, I’ve noticed I can give myself a little cold adrenaline jolt any time I want to, just by visualizing stepping onto the dance floor in front of everyone. On the upside, we’ve got some days left to get more comfortable with dancing together; even if we totally flub things up on the day of, we’ll be in front of the most supportive crowd we can think of, by definition.
- Went for softserve with Kate to “Ice Cream Fore-U” (it’s right near a mini-golf range, har har).
- Took an initial tilt at designing the program for the wedding itself. Driving home from soft serve last night, Kate mentioned that we’ll probably need to leave copies of driving directions in people’s hotel rooms. I said that I’d take the directions I put on the web page and format them to a single sheet of paper. Kate paused for a beat. “What?”, I said.
“Well,” she said, “I really don’t want to make more work for you, and I know that whenever you do graphic design, it, well, it comes out really well! But you take a while doing it, because you’re a little perfectionist about it.”
I laughed out loud — finally, there’s something I’m sufficiently nitpicky about to draw comment! (For those who haven’t seen: Kate’s writing is beautiful and perfect. If she makes a mistake writing something and she has the option, she’ll throw it out immediately and start over. This is why things she writes look great, and things I write look like a bear chewed on a fountain pen and then sneezed on them.)
- Begun the slow purging of leftovers from the fridge. We’re gonna need fridge space for wedding leftovers, cake supplies, etc.
- Tracked down where to get 150 lbs of ice (Beverage King!) and who can pick it up (the bartenders!).
We met with our caterers over lunch today. The folks taking care of the lawn were finally able to come today and mow. The very long grass is now cut, though there’s still the question of raking (or mowing?) up the hay to be dealt with. Tonight we’ll child-proof some rooms and practice dancing more. I’m mostly keeping abreast of the various phone calls to various vendors, and trying to keep my attention on work during the days this week.