Evie's Rules of Engagement

Not long after I got engaged, I somehow got invited to the New York City bridal expo. I heard about it before (mostly through Jezebel's "Oh God what are we doing here" reports, 1 and 2) and heard about my mom's experience at bridal expos (they only barely stopped short of giving her foot massages in the lavish attention they paid on her, the keeper of the checkbook). So I figured, what the hell? With the fiance out of town, I called on my best gal, Evie, to accompany me.

"Free cake!" I told her. "Free champagne! It'll be great!"

With high hopes and empty stomachs, we set off. I'm not really sure what my expectations were, but my first impressions, seeing easily 1000 brides-to-be, plus about a dozen unfortunate fiances or (oh lord) boyfriends, was more of a refuge camp than anything. As soon as I walked in the door I was slapped with a sticker that identified me as the bride to the fifty+ salespeople inside and made to fill out form after form with my personal information.

It took me about 15 minutes to realize this means Very Important Bride.

For some ungodly reason, I obediently filled out everything on the forms--address, email, telephone, Dave's contact info (later Evie said, "I was really surprised that you actually did that," and I had no response except some primordial form-filling instinct in me suddenly kicked in). All that earned me was a deluge of mail from every wedding business in the tri-state area. I STILL get magazines and emails. This actually may have been the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life.

The expo itself was a nightmare, with hundreds of women crowding around the two (two!) tables with free food. We were given goodie bags when we walked in and Evie forced me to take everything from every table. She also forced me to wait in line for the free photobooth-style photos:

You can see it really get to me on the bottom left.
Yes, we are hanging ourselves with free shell-lei necklaces.

Finally, Evie took pity on my crowd-induced panic attack and we left to go get burgers. Although I encouraged her to throw away the 3lb bag of magazines and ads she had accrued while at the expo, she said, very anthropologically, that she wanted to take them home to study them.

The result of this study? Evie's Rules of Engagement, culled from the advice of a dozen terrible wedding magazines. She made me a poster. You all wish you had a maid-of-honor like this.


Here they are, in order:

Check! This is the only part of the rules that makes sense from a logical human perspective.


My favorite is the one comparing your boyfriend to a gas-guzzling SUV (and you to an energy-efficient hybrid).


I like this rule, but it would have gotten you a black eye at the wedding expo. Ever seen two hundred hungry, sweaty women fight over a mini red velvet cupcake? Now I see it every night...in my nightmares...


Touche, Evie. Touche.


The aforementioned shot, with the aforementioned noose.


which leads naturally to...


True story: Dave's dad is impossible to buy a Christmas present for, so, jokingly, I suggested the only thing we could give him that he couldn't get himself was another grandkid. Dave laughed, agreed that that was true, conversation over. A few weeks later at our annual Christmas party, Dave, his mom, and my mom were all chatting. His mom asked what Dave and I got his dad. I was in the dining room, setting the table, when I heard this and thought don't say it, don't say it--"A grandchild!" Dave cheers.

Let me describe the scene that followed, when I ran into the kitchen. There's Dave, a big smile on his face, waiting for laughter that would never come. There's his mom, eyebrows halfway up her forehead, eyes wide. And then there's my mom, mouth open, completely frozen, with a facial expression that says something like "How quickly can I dismember the idiot who impregnated my unmarried daughter?"

"In three years!" I say. "A grandkid in three years! Not pregnant!"

The room collectively breathes a sigh of relief and my mom says, "Good, because there was no way you were going to fit into your dress."


Last but not least. I hope Sandals Jamaica got a nice boost in reservations from this.

My Lovely Ladies

yes. they are very pretty. even steve

These are the wonderful, beautiful, kind, funny women who will be my bridesmaids. Clockwise from top left they are Marisa, Dave's sister; Danielle, my archery/camp/Boston buddy; Jenna (on the left), Dave's sister-in-law; and Evie, my maid-of-honor and dear college friend. They are pretty awesome, if I do say so myself, and I couldn't ask for a better bunch of women/friends/family.

Marisa - my future lil sis! And my partner in crime for keeping Dave in line. I think I fell in love with her right from the beginning (she made me a smoothie and told Dave to stop biting me! True story) and I am looking forward to years of raiding her stylish wardrobe and warding off skeezy old men at bars who try to get her to dance with them.

Danielle - who has never failed to crack a pun every single day since I've met her, who is already planning my bachelorette party. Former archery teammate and co-camp-counselor, Danielle is probably the most positive, upbeat, cheerful person I've ever met in my entire life, someone who reminds me constantly to enjoy life, love, friends, and family.

Jenna - my future big sis! Every since Dave and I met Jenna, Dave's brother's girlfriend-->fiancee-->wife, I've been saying "You know, I really like Jenna." And I really do! Dave is thinking about moving next door to Steve and Jenna when we're all grown up and when he told me my reaction was "And I'll get to see Jenna every day and hang out and watch terrible MTV dating shows with her yaaaaay!!!!"

Evie - oh Evie. What more can I say? Evie who was there when Dave and I met, who was there when we (very, very temporarily) broke up, who called Dave's proposal fully six months in advance, whose response to hearing we were getting married and she was going to be maid-of-honor was "Pleasepleaseplease don't get married June or July of 2011 because I'm taking the bar!", who puts up with my relationship talk and wedding complaints and starry-eyed gushing, who else could have filled her (low-heeled, sensible) shoes so well?

I am thrilled and excited that these are the people who will be standing next to me when Dave and I get married. I know every one of them will support me, make me laugh, get me tissues, and ensure I'm fed, rested, and relaxed. Plus they will all look smashing in whatever pink poofy monstrosity I pick for them, right ladies? Honestly, though, I feel incredibly lucky for each of them--I keep reading all these articles about "Bridesmaids Gone Wild!" "What To Do When Your Bridesmaid Steals the Show!" "How to Make Your Bridesmaid Your Slaaaaave!" and wondering, who are these people? My bridesmaids to-dos are simple: show up, smile, make sure I have flowers/ring/husband. Success!

Also, this post has made me realize I need more pictures of these important ladies. I seriously have no non-preggars photos of Jenna? Why is Marisa so fuzzy? And that picture of Danielle is circa 2004! Of course, I have more recent ones of Evie, I just think drunk-Evie is the cutest :)

What a Doll!

When I walked into Dave's apartment this weekend, I was stunned to discover one of my good friends had made me a little buddy for my 24th birthday! Kathy, one of our college friends and one of the craftiest people I know, made me a little mini-Kendall (complete with a change of clothes!). She modeled it after the cartoon version of myself I drew for my other blog, Res-oh-puh-leese:
I am very fond of this little cartoon. I started drawing it a few years ago when I was sitting in class or buried in the library or staring outside at 3 feet of Cambridge slush; I would draw a little cartoon Kendall and a little cartoon Dave doing something fun (tropical locations featured heavily). For our second anniversary I gave Dave a whole sketchbook filled with cartoons of my favorite memories of our relationship, and we're even planning to incorporate them into the wedding, either in save-the-dates, or molded in clay for a cake topper. So, I was touched and thrilled to see my little 3D girl.

Although, I think this wedding planning thing is getting to me... In a nod to my explosive forays into the world of cooking, Kathy included two doll aprons, one a sturdy working apron (seen here), the other a frilly hostess apron (seen...tied on her head, because I thought it was a veil...). Wedding is in my braains...BRAAAAIIINNNSSS!!!!


Hello cuteness? Indeed. I sort of want to make a Dave doll so we can smash their faces together and pretend they're kissing. And then make them fly. And explode each other. Did I mention I turned 24?