Wedding Week Recaps: The Wedding Day

I was fully prepared to not sleep a wink the night before the wedding. But I slept like a baby, y’all. I was passed out and snoring by midnight.

I even hit snooze when the alarm went off the next morning, but once I realized what day it was, I was pretty much up and ready to go. Mom and I got breakfast at Tupelo Honey, my absolute favorite place for breakfast anywhere. Too bad I was too nervous to eat more than half of my plate.

Then, we proceeded to run the errands necessary to getting Dustin’s wedding gift. Mad props to the Wachovia in downtown Asheville that let me know how to get a check cashed even though I’m not a Wachovia customer (sign the check over to your Mom, who DOES bank with Wachovia, and get her to cash it for you). Extra mad props to the folks (especially LeeAnn) at the AT&T store at 1408 Patton Avenue for going the extra mile to help me get Dustin’s brand spanking new Windows 7 Phone (I got him the Samsung Focus, ’cause it’s kind of awesome).

He’s in love with it. Like crazy.

Next was hair. So we parked in a parking garage with an incredibly adorable senior citizen with no teeth as its attendant, and walked down to Ananda’s. Haven King is my stylist there (I say this as if I make regular 9-hour drives to get my hair cut…) and y’all. She’s amazing. No joke. I came in with a random assortment of vintage photos for my trial back in June, and she went to work. It’s like she read my mind. And when I was there for the wedding, she made it better. She did the back of my hair a little differently and it’s like my whole head was transformed, yet she didn’t stray from the feminine, completely vintage ‘do I wanted. And more, she made my Mom and I laugh, which was a BIG bonus. Haven, turtle, you are a darling and I’m in love with you and your awesome frocks and Fryes.

And I can’t believe it, but in the whole 2 hours I was sitting in her chair, this is the only picture we took of my hair. I call this the “7 year old prepares for church” look:Behold! Curly hair that’s been brushed out, globbed with good product, straightened, and then curled again. Also, pudgy cheeks.

My makeup appt. was next, so I hauled my rear and my mom’s rear across downtown Asheville to Makeup at the Grove Arcade, where a veritable rock star rolled in and did my face in all of 45 seconds. It was amazing. Mendy Hoffman. Look her up. Book her to brush your face with her goodness.

And this iPhone photo does no justice at all to the gorgeousness that was my wedding face. It should be noted that the lipstick Mendy mixed up for me perfectly matched my pomegranate margarita I drank at dinner after the wedding. ‘Nuff said. Note: when you book your wedding vendors, get cheerful, funny, rock stars like Haven and Mendy. They will relax you, get you to laugh, and inspire you to feel generally awesome. I sincerely believe in hiring people that bring nothing but good joo-joo to your day.

So after makeup is when things almost went downhill. I seriously underestimated how much time I should have allotted between makeup and the start of our ceremony (travel time, ceremony set-up, etc.). Thank the good Lord for Jean at The Farm, my Mom, and supremely fabulous family for shoving Reese’s cups in my mouth while avoiding my lipstick (another note: if you get hypoglycemic easily, do not skip lunch); for setting things up for me; for reminding me to breathe. I was rushing around so much that Regina had to remind me that I would probably want photos of my Mom helping me into my dress. Oh, yeah. Whoops.

So that was the only part of the day in which things felt *bad.* But it didn’t last very long. At all. Soon, I was all dressed up and pretty, and my mother-in-law was walking in with the gift Dustin got for me. There may have been some tears. Just sayin’.

I peeked out the door of the dressing room and saw the family waiting for the ceremony to start. I got a glimpse of my Dad, who I think gave me a thumbs up or something equally cheesy. He came in the dressing room with me, and there were definitely tears then. I’m such a Daddy’s girl. AND a Mamma’s girl. Is that even allowed? It was beginning to hit me. I am getting married. And my Dad thinks I’m beautiful. And my mom is already crying. Ho-ly geez.



About AshleyGee

I'm a graduate instructor at a completely Southern (Football, Rush Week, and lots of "Hey Y'alls!") university. I teach freshman comp, study
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