Bridezilla

I watch the "Bridezilla" television show from time to time when nothing else is on. It's usually on non-stop every weekend and makes for a nice mindless hour of tv. Sometimes I'm so annoyed with the Bridezilla that I have to turn it off. Or the sound of their voice is so grating I find my shoulders tense. Or - like the last one I saw - the chick was freaking out so bad I found myself trying to do meditative breathing FOR her and I didn't notice till Mr. M said "why do you keep sighing, and what the hell are you watching!?"

I see these women freaking out and think - oh no that will never be me, that woman is out of her mind. Then I punch myself in the face for being a jack ass.

Today was the first day I got "nervous" about the wedding. I got 3 calls at work about things that needed to be nailed down. The church secretary called about the times and names of the people that will be signing the marriage license. I attempted to call the people who are catering the grooms dinner - they emailed earlier in the week. The organist needs final music lists. About mid-afternoon I realized I was getting that anxious feeling. You know where you feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest and all you can get are shallow breaths?

I'm not nervous about my marriage - I'm excited about that. I'm just nervous about the event. I have to step back many times and remind myself to focus on the big picture. It doesn't matter if the seating chart is done - people will find seats just fine. It doesn't matter if they haven't RSVP'd - the caterer will figure it out. It's not a big deal if the program has the same design as the invitations - it doesn't even matter if you HAVE a bulletin in the first place.

Breath.

What matters is that I'm pledging the rest.of.my.life. to a man I love dearly and respect greatly. Now - if I could just put that into words - I may have written my vows by now - no luck there either.

On top of the wedding stress that is creeping up - the great wipe-fest of 2006 is in full affect. I've given up going to the bathroom every five seconds and resigned myself to the fact that I'm not getting my period. I am not however, peeing on a stick until Sunday. My friends will come over and we will have a super secret POS (pee on a stick) party. Mr. M will be in vegas and I just have to know. Once I know, hopefully I'll be calmer about the situation.

The bachelorette is this weekend - lots of interesting pictures are bound to stem out of that. Should be a good time - and remind me of the old days with the girls when we all weren't married with kids.

More importantly I'll be sure to give you shot of the pee stick - now doesn't that sound lovely!