the first "check" on my list

We finally got started. The planning and preparing process is officially under way.

Last night, my Mother, my fiance, my bridesmaid Cynthia and I spent an hour and a half addressing 100 cream colored envelopes and stuffing them with our (adorable, if I do say so myself) Save-the-Date magnets.

I believe my solution to the magnet:envelope size ratio dilemma to have been a stroke of genius. (Ok, so it may have been largely Mom's stroke, but nevertheless, genius.) Justin so graciously cut pieces of eggplant (the accent color for my mostly neutral wedding, if I have my way) cardstock into fourths (perfect size for standard "invitation" envelopes). Cynthia slipped two clear photo corners onto opposite corners of the magnet and affixed them onto the purple cards. Beautiful. Now the magnet won't flop around in it's envelope and I get to use a little more of my current color obsession: aubergine.

Meanwhile, Mom and I started the task of writing a hundred "Mr. & Mrs. Justin's Second Cousin Twice Removed"s. Mom is a pro. An envelope addressing machine. I, on the other hand, leave so very much to be desired in the envelope addressing department.

Within twenty minutes I had thrice written the same name twice, several times misspelled my Mom's co-worker's daughter's name, and once simply spasmed and scriblled across the apartment number. In hindsight, perhaps the glass of cab on an empty stomach was a poor choice.

On even the most succsseful envelope, however, there was still the issue of my handwriting...

My handwriting looks like that of a fifth grade girl who is trying desperately to emmulate the lovely ease of her grandmother's cursive. You know that girl in school who is socially awkward and a bit chubby? The one who is smart, but not brilliant, and works tirelessly at completing each assignment perfectly so as to stay on good standing with the one person in the class who seems to be her friend (the teacher)? The one who draws all the time but really isn't any good and thus resorts to practicing the handwriting of the girl who is truly creative? That's who's handwriting I have.

And yes, that girl was me.

Thank goodness for Justin, who is willing to marry me despite my "loser" beginnings.