Work, work, work

Welcome to Week/Wearing 3.

This weekend was one for small acts of productivity. I'd bought a squash and a cucumber at the farmers' market and wanted to make something with them, partly for culinary practice and partly for not having vegetables rot in my kitchen.

I made soup (that needs a little tweaking of the spices) and refrigerator pickles (that will be evaluated in a week, once they can pickle enough). I also cleaned out the fridge and the cupboards. It's funny how you can feel like your life is crazy and you have too much work, but you can look a minor tidying job and think, "Well, at least all the plastic bags are in that box now and the Trader Joe's bags are folded in a reasonable fashion."

Today's dress wearing was not wildly fun, but sadly a necessary part of productivity. Studying is made mildly more interesting with a fancy dress though. A wedding dress deserves flair and flourish, it deserves sophistication, it deserves to be seen. Therefore, it should be wore while reading about dual route reading processing. And if socks are worn, they should be argyle and seasonally hued.

Also, if grad school has taught me anything, it's that holding a clipboard makes you look more official. Official people always seem to have a good prop. It gives you some "stage business" (as they say in the theatre) so that you can look busy without looking too busy and can draw dinosaurs in addition to important notes.

Week 2- The Best Laid Plans

Week 2 is a little more delayed than I'd aimed for, but it was one of those weeks where I lived at school. C'est la vie, je ne sais quoi, Jacques Chirac, bouillabaisse, and all that.

Anyhow, the original plan was to wear my dress for Matt's birthday party. We invited a bunch of lovely people and had food and dessert; it was obvious that the thought in the back of everyones' minds was "If only someone were wearing a wedding dress, preferably with a train dragging behind her so we can step on it." Sadly, I didn't change into it. Once you get into a groove at a party (and you have a dog who just wants to be everywhere, attempting to sit on your guests), it's hard to step away and change into a formal gown.

After people went home, I asked Matt to get a picture of me just chilling out post-party, but sadly he was distracted, so there was enough time for me to sit for a while. Sitting became laying down, laying down became full-out sleeping, and Matt was thus able to capture a photo that looks like I'm rehearsing to be Uma Thurman's body double in the wedding shoot-out in Kill Bill.

Who's going to clean up this mess? Not me, I'll tell you that much.

Thankfully, as I opted to not join the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, I did not have to avenge myself and I woke up and continued with my night.

One of my goals with this project is to bustle my dress. My skirt is not terribly cumbersome, but for ease during the reception, I did have some bustling buttons added by my seamstress. They were so discreetly added that we couldn't actually find the loops and never actually bustle the dress. Now that I have the time, I will focus my team of NASA scientists onto this project. If Curiosity can get to Mars, I can ideally make a skirt look smaller.

To get back on schedule, Week 3 will be coming up soon!

It begins...

I've recently rejoined that population who are not actively planning weddings, those folks we call "just plain old married people." It's a bit of an odd transition into the post-planning phase. I certainly love being married to the man I love and settling down to create our new life together, but after all of the arranging and the organizing and bustling around, it's strange to simply not be doing all that. On a recent vacation to the city where we got married, we had to visit zero vendors to visit, no checks to write out, and nothing to fashion into attractive place cards. Our thank you cards are long sent, our gifts have been integrated into the kitchen, and we're content to let people pick their own seats from here on in.

Going through my box of bridal shower and wedding paraphernalia made me think about how great the day itself was and how many memories we'll take away from the day. (Not to mention the stories about the events and misadventures that we were too busy to notice.) My thoughts then turned to my wedding dress. I really love my dress. It was the star of the show that one day, and now it's unceremoniously, anti-climatically, non-purposefully hanging in my closet. Matt wore his wedding suit to a wedding we attended after our own, and that handsome devil can wear it again with impunity countless more times. Bridal gowns, however, are like cicadas: months of waiting, a single (but dramatic) reveal, then a shuffle off into obscurity. Wear it when you're a bride- fine. Wear it any other time- a one-way ticket to Nutville.

Well, Nutville be damned. I have decided that I am going get my mileage out of my dress. I bought my jeans and wear them all the time, and in the same way, I bought that dress and I will wear it again. It won't be a tragic Miss Haversham-esque obsession (I'd probably need more rotting cake for that), but just the chance to enjoy an outfit I like and to get a little mileage out of an investment.

So it begins...Week One in a year of wearing the dress about once a week. If I gain weight/get pregnant/turn into a blueberry, I'll do the best I can and at least wear the sash like a headband.

Here goes nothing!