They've Procreated!

Okay I lied. I said the next post was going to be about Brandon's branch of the Unit... and I guess it is... kind of (sorry Jason, sorry Sue, sorry everyone else! Your turn is coming soon :-)). Specifically, tonight's post is an important announcement about the old married pair in our wedding party - Bridesmaid Lorraine and Groomsman Lanny... well really it isn't about them either as this post is about, and please provide a drum roll if you will, the birth of their (gulp, tear, sniffle) child on November 24 at 10:45 am. Mom is doing well.

Now there was debate as to what was going to come out... boy, girl, Pindrop, Monkey, Extra-Terrestrial (I had concerns...), but what came out was beautiful and just as the poll predicted - it's a boy (pass the blue cigars)! Therefore, I would like to welcome to the non-official wedding party of my heart Mr. Carter Landon Gray, weighing in at an impressive 6 lbs, 13 ozs.

My first reaction was to cry. I am a bit of a dork, we all know that, but it was rather exciting in an overwhelming kind of a way... I cannot imagine if I had been on the whole "I'm a parent now" end of the equation - I would have been a wreck!

The Unit: Lorraine (AKA The New Mom!) is the lovely lady on the left... 

Now for those of you who are wondering where the pictures are... well they are not here. I can steal one off of Facebook, but that isn't really the same and besides that I want to ask permission first... therefore expect a picture at some point between now and the next 18 years (if Lorraine and Lanny say no, I nonetheless figure I will have spoiled Carter enough by the time he reaches the age of majority that he will let me post his picture).  FYI though to prepare you… I cried when I saw him (via a picture), primarily because unlike a number of new borns he does not have the squished "extra-terrestrial" look that they sometimes get... not that they are less cute, but realistically when they have that style going on they are not quite recognizable as humans.

I feel sad that I haven't had an opportunity to do any baby research for this aside from point out that both Carter's first and middle names are apparently popular boy names for 2009 in Canada (for more information please visit: http://www.thinkbabynames.com/popular/1/canada). The list is actually fascinating to look at, i.e. did anyone realize that Jaxon with an X was popular this year? I would never have guessed that in a million years, but nonetheless it ranked in the top 100 and when you are dealing with a population over 30 million you have to assume that there are going to be a lot of Jaxon's running around as a result.

However, as my Googling managed to remind/impress upon me it doesn't really matter if you end up as a "Jackson" with an X because if you think of some of the weird and wonderful handles that celebrities have forced upon their children over the years anything short of "Kangaroo Lad" should make you happy. 

Take for instance Jason Lee's son "Pilot Inspektor" - I mean seriously how do you go to school and socialize with others with a name like that... what's your nickname? Pie? Pek? P.I.? 

Or what about Sylvester Stallone's offspring (brace yourself) - Sage Moonblood.  Honestly, how much do you have to hate your child to name him/her something like that?  And besides when you name a child you have to think about what their name would look like on letter head... for example:

Sage P. Moonblood Accountants and Vampires at Large

Don't worry we only suck your blood, not your money.

Basically I don't even have a further comment on the letterhead, I feel it speaks for itself.

Or even Penn from the comedy duo Penn and Teller, can you guess for one second what his child is named?  I bet you can't... He named his child Moxie Crimefighter - frankly that's a lot of pressure... I don't advocate violence or being a criminal, but I think with a name like that you're trying to set your kid up to be Spiderman, Superman, Wonder Woman, or (as you all know) my all time favourite Batman.  PLUS in addition to having to fight crime you need to do it with moxie?  I don't think any psychiatrist can help with that kind of pressure! 

Now between the Inspektors, the Moonbloods, the Crimefighters, and the wacky names we are more familar with (as per the tabloid television filling the airwaves) such as Coco, Ocean, Apple, and Blanket (etc... etc... etc...) you have to wonder how we still manage to have room and appreciation for the Carters, Landons, Ethans, and Johns of this world... but thankfully we still do (for more information please visit: http://www.cracked.com/article_15765_20-most-bizarre-celebrity-baby-names.html), which is why I am giving Lorraine and Lanny two thumbs up on name choice!

For those that are curious, and as I said I haven't really had the opportunity to do much research (cough), tonight I learned that Carter means pretty much what it says it does "driver of a cart". It is of English origin and often used as a last name, but lately (as is proven by the top 100 list) it is becoming a common first name... I found the meaning of the name Landon interesting as it is also English, but instead means "from the long hill". 

Pre-Carter... One of Their Last Nights of Rest for the Next 18-ish Years...

Lorraine and Lanny

Okay... it is late and while I napped for eons when I got home from work, which is why I am up now, I feel it is time to stop my Googling for the evening.  Nevertheless, I wish to end on the high note of excitement and promise a new baby brings to the world and how pleased/excited I am that I will be able to watch Lorraine and Lanny raise Carter – even if it is a "long hill"…

Brandon and I both send you our love and please know that we are here for you if you need anything!

On Hold...

I am sitting in my bedroom on hold with product support for Medtronic Canada (Diabetes hotline) and they are telling me that my wait time will be up to (and potentially more than) one hour; this is one of the moments in one's life when crying seems like the best option. Therefore, instead of staring at the wall or playing a game of Solitaire (which now that I have said it I am itching to do) I figured I would write a post and try to catch everyone up on "life after the dress". So much has happened (even before we went to Pennsylvania) and I feel the need to recap the comings and goings of the last few weeks before I can get back into wedding related conversation.

Now "life after the dress" may sound a little like the climax has come and gone and everything is downhill, but frankly I haven't had a lot of time to kick back and relax. First, as many have heard and I have been quick to mention, I had the dreaded Swine (don't wish it upon my worst enemy), but have no fear I survived and you will too (if and when you get it). Literally I came back from Pennsylvania and the next thing I knew I was sick as a dog and in bed quarantined in the guest room of my house. At this time I would like to extend a special shout out to my family for being absolutely fantastic and impressively zealous towards the sanitation of me and everything I came in contact with (I practically had a love affair with Purell and Kleenex).

My Wonderful Family!

Speaking of hand sanitizer, can I ask... is there anyone out there that is really annoyed with themselves they did not buy stock in a) whatever pharmaceutical company develops and produces TamiFlu, and, b) hand sanitizer? I just keep thinking the entire wedding, house, car and first child could have been bankrolled if I had thought strategically and bought stock in such entities. However, hindsight is always 20/20 and therefore I will not dwell... you know me I never obsess... (cough, cough, drove to PA for a dress). Better yet the Government of Canada could have bought stock... think about the debt recovery plan.

In Ottawa - Peter Mansbridge and I

Once I had recovered from my illness (which thankfully I did not get as badly as some – my best wishes to all those who have been seriously ill and to their families – it is not easy and I only wish you the best) it was off to Ottawa for the Governor General's Order of Canada Mentorship Program 2009 of which I am a participant (for more information visit: www.gg.ca). I will not go into great detail in relation to the program, as this is a wedding blog and I am assuming you are here for wedding related information, but there is one anecdote I wish to share from my trip, which I hope you will find humourous... or if nothing else shake your head and say "Oh Marie!".

One of the fantastic experiences that I had an opportunity to take part in was the launch of Veterans' Week at the Senate. Following the ceremony we met with the Speaker of the Senate (Noel Kinsella, for more information visit: http://sen.parl.gc.ca/nkinsella/English/Biography-e.htm). When His Honour entered the room I stood, but in the process of standing I managed to knock over my water bottle (which I had placed on the floor to be respectful). My water bottle (not caring obviously about my sense of pride) decided to roll in front of His Honour practically tripping him in the process. Now, one could imagine my sheer horror at that experience as within seconds of meeting the man I practically break his neck and end up on the 11 o’clock news as the idiot who nearly took him out. However, as a true man of grace he picked up my water bottle, refrained from commenting on my red face and continued along his way to the head of the table.

Upon reaching the head of the table he sat down (as did I) and turned to me. This was a moment of uncertainty and sheer panic as I was afraid I was about to receive a lecture on proper Senate etiquette from the SPEAKER OF THE SENATE. After he had inquired about my name, he proceeded to ask if I knew where I was (uh oh...). After a few quick answers (and the redness in my poor face steadily increasing), he asked me “no, where are you right now?” to which I answered as politely as I could, “a chair?” Apparently that answer was correct (thank God), but there was more to the story than that. Once I had provided my answer it was explained to me that the chair I was sitting in was none other than the chair Barak Obama had sat in when he was in Canada in February! Yes that is right folks – Barak and I are chair buddies (how cool is that?). Having shared what I consider the greatest story ever (but trust me the horror of nearly tripping the man will never be far from my mind), I will return to wedding related conversation.

The Chair!

In “life after the dress”, dresses are still a hot topic as bridesmaids dresses are next on the chopping block. Thus far I have been out shopping twice; once with my sister and mom and once with my entire Unit. It has been hard to find the right dress so far (there’s a surprise) and while I am not prepared to drag my lovely ladies to Pennsylvania I want them to be as happy with their dresses as I am with mine – therefore our next project will be finding the perfect bridesmaid dresses. An experience which I am sure will be a source of endless amusement... so far we are rather focused on finding a wedding dress for Lorraine to try on (just for fun) from the “it’s not too late” section (PS Just for clarification: she is married).

The Unit!

 Now I think I have caught up everyone on my “life after the dress” (or at least a summary – the last few weeks have been crazy!). My next post will be about Brandon’s crew as thus far I haven’t had a chance to fill everyone in on the who’s who of Brandon’s group... I do have to say, now that I have finished this post, it is hard to write about “life after the dress”, but perhaps it is time to bring forward a new era... dreaming about someone answering the phone!

My Soon to be Family

(PS Megan took the pictures - pretty good eh?)

Diary of a Wedding Dress Shopper (Part Three)

Is it weird that I just spent fifteen minutes “Googling” Adam West, Batman and television serials? Frankly, the fact I have just spent my Saturday night searching for interesting tidbits proves what I have been saying about Google being an enabler of time wasting. Think, instead of Googling for information about a 1960s television series I could have devoted that time to actually working on the third (and potentially – I haven’t decided yet) final instalment of “Diary of a Wedding Dress Shopper” – some may find this delay a good thing. However, in the interest of ending the hate mail (I am a tease apparently) I feel it is time to conclude my saga (or at any rate try to) – mwhahaha, mwhahaha, mwhahaha.

She puts up with me!  Thanks Mom

Additionally, in the interest of demonstrating how committed I am to finishing my tale I will not share all the information I gained during my fifteen minutes of Googling relating to Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie, Petticoat Junction, and a few other 1960 television serials (including obviously Batman). I have learned so much, but yet I will not bore everyone with the wondrous Wikipedian knowledge I have gained in the last fifteen minutes... sigh (it is really more like forty-five minutes, but let us not dwell on that).

Nonetheless, where was I...? Right! I remember...

“Holy Nuptials, Batman!” Sue, Mom, Megan and Mallory were all holding a collective breath as I was about to make my grand entrance in the dress I had travelled approximately 379.04 miles (610.005 749 76 kilometres if you are curious, http://www.onlineconversion.com/length_common.htm) to find... now obviously I didn’t hang around inside the change room as the last thing I wanted was for people to suffocate, but I have to say I was a little nervous. The pressure was intense; this was the dress; this was the dress I had dreamed about; this was the dress that was going to make my mom cry; this was the dress that was going to make me jump around ecstatically; this was the dress that Brandon would see me in when he says I do; this was a big moment; in fact this might be the moment (yes I am stalling – I am all for drawing out the anticipation, how’s it working?).

 

On The Road...

(Left to Right) 1) We're Almost Here! 

2) Intriguing Combination... Next Stop "Big Woodies II: Bibles and Playboys

I walked out of the change room with my eyes closed, my heart beating, and my palms sweating. I stepped up onto the raised platform (trying a wedding dress on is all about the raised platform) and turned toward the mirror and slowly cracked open my eyes and the moment I had waited for through all the phone calls, the Googling, the day dreaming, the frustration, and anticipation was absolutely, completely and totally CRAP. I looked ridiculous. In fact I looked more than ridiculous, I looked like a burlesque show girl with no taste and a bad costume designer – and most notably one that was about to throw up from the embarrassment of having to tell people this story. I would almost go so far as to say that I looked like I had hired Barbara Eden’s costume designer Gwen Wakeling to come up with my wedding dress (yes, okay I cracked, I had to slip in some of the information I have learned this evening – did you know that viewers of I Dream of Jeannie only saw Jeannie’s naval three times during the five seasons the show aired? By the way, Ms. Wakeling did design a great costume for a genie... just not a bride. Okay I am done the information spewing, for now... (for more information please visit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Dream_of_Jeannie)).

Therefore, I was left with a choice – One: I could pretend to love the dress to save face and not seem insane, or Two: I could try on the dress I noticed on the poster outside the store and see if I could see past the blob of fabric I was currently wearing and the fact that everyone was trying to be incredibly positive about the dress that was supposedly of my dreams. However, before I could do that I needed to stare at myself in the mirror for a half an hour to ensure myself that the dress I was wearing was actually the one on the Internet (frankly I couldn’t tell for sure – it looked completely different!).

 Good Friends Last Forever (and Go Miles)

I went into the change room and started laughing. Megan was laughing too and as she helped me out of the dress we shared a moment of sisterhood again when she started breathing a sigh of relief that I had said NO to the dress... just say no kids, just say no.

Now that you have heard the shocking truth that I hated the dress I had tracked across the Eastern Seaboard to find and had waxed poetic about to everyone, I will tell you another little secret... when I was walking into the store I saw a dress on a poster in the window and thought to myself... “Self that dress is beautiful”. In fact I saw myself in that dress and I saw Brandon crying. However, I assumed that was “pre-buyers” remorse and just the nervous anticipation of seeing MY dress. In Part Two of my saga you may remember that I referred to the dress that Megan and Mallory had the store staff grab, well that was the dress from the poster and now I was going to try it on again (the first time I didn’t really pay attention).

 It would be a great picture...

if it wasn't for the York sweater (Love You Mugs)

I am thinking you can probably guess the ending, so I will just say that it wasn’t a purple, size thirty pant suit. In fact it was everything I had hoped for. It was a cross between... urgh, I guess I can’t say. However, what I can say is that this was THE dress and it was making me smile, my mom weep, and I am hoping Brandon fall in love with me a little more than he has already (Sue promised me up and down that this is true and she lives with the guy so I have to believe her) – this was THE dress. It was the clichéd moment television and the movies continuously promote and I loved every second.

 It is Mine!

Within a short window of time (after the dress was pried off me) I paid and we embarked on the rest of our journey... Chili’s Grill and Bar for supper, Super 8 Hotel, Mallory overhearing wild and crazy sex fanatics next door (Megan and I slept soundly right through), Cracker Barrel (yummy!) and then Millcreek Mall for shopping! While at the Mall Megan and I were innocently strolling around Macy’s when out of nowhere we spotted another shopper who looked suspicious... suspiciously like our Aunt Deb (in fact it was). Aunt Deb, Aunt Donna and Aunt Deanne were part of a cross-border shopping bus trip and were currently at the Mall doing some last minute shopping before they headed home. Funny how small the world really is, eh? With another stop at an outlet in Buffalo and the longest line EVER crossing the border we made it home, safe and sound.

 Family (Left to Right): Megan, Aunt Deb, Me, Aunt Donna and Aunt Deanne

HOWEVER, this is not my last Pennsylvania trip; in fact I have another to look forward to in the spring when I go and pick up my dress. MY DRESS. I have tried to rationalize what happened; because truthfully I really loved the other dress when I saw it on the Internet – in fact I would have bet you cold, hard cash that it was perfect for me. But I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, and that dress was fit for no one (even Elizabeth Montgomery couldn’t have nosed twitched that dress away). So I pulled a Bewitched styled Darrin swap (check out the website for explanation if you don’t get this reference - hint there were two Darrins: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bewitched) and the dress of my dreams became entirely different, but at the same time entirely perfect.

I guess this is the ending of my saga (darn I wish I could draw it out more... perhaps I could discuss Green Acres and the Beverly Hillbillies? Or perhaps not). I would like to say thanks to Terry Mullin for lending us her vehicle to go, Sue for driving over 1200 kilometres in search of a dress I didn’t buy, Denise and Elizabeth (Cuthbertson) for supporting my insanity at work, Mallory and Megan for being my Unit members in Pennsylvania (Megan special shout out for helping me in the change room – that was above and beyond the call – let me just say that insulin pumps complicate things), Elizabeth (Smith) and Lorraine for being my Unit members in Whitby, Tamara for encouraging me, Cindy for deep-throating the "secret designer" telephone number, Aliesha for selling me the dress, my Dad for just laughing and telling us to have a good time, my Mom for crying (and not accusing me of being psychotic), and most importantly Brandon for telling me that I could wear a burlap sack and he would still marry me with a smile on his face and love in his heart. I cannot wait until September 18th... I now have the dress of my dreams; I just had to go to Pennsylvania to find it.

 Two days of solid shopping... What else did you expect?

(PS If you want to know more about 1960s television please feel free to e-mail me as (like normal) I am a wealth of useless information - Did you know that Petticoat Junction, The Beverly Hillbillies and Green Acres all took place in the same fictional universe?  For more information visit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petticoat_Junction.  Thanks Google (as per usual) ;-)

Diary of a Wedding Dress Shopper (Part Two)

Previously on Marie's Ridiculous Ramblings... Marie and her posse were last seen in Greensburg, Pennsylvania searching for the elusive wedding dress Marie has been hunting, like a dog in the night, for months and months and months. However, when this crazy crew of consumers arrived at the bridal store, a measly 300 plus miles from home "The Dress" was nowhere to be found. Now please stay tuned as we join our intrepid shoppers in their valiant search for "The Dress"...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... After calling approximately one million, trillion, gazillion dress stores, planning two different trips to Pennsylvania, diligently dialing on the GO Train, and celebrating the kindness, generosity and very existence of Cindy from Michigan (FYI Still love Cindy from Michigan) this should be easy... and therefore the fact the dress could not be located had to be a joke. I had dragged four people to Pennsylvania and now there was a clear threat that I was going home empty handed (hang on, even typing this saga out is making me dizzy, deep breath).

So Cute!  Mom and Sue at a rest stop in Pennsylvania

Why did I worry?  As this experience reminded me I should never stress about my friends/family being mad or annoyed because like the intrepid shoppers/people they are *NOTHING* stops them. In fact Megan and Mallory took this opportunity to scope out other dress options in the store, while the store’s staff searched high and low for "The Dress".

To kill time I started trying dresses on and to my aid came my trusty, dusty sister. There are certain times when you need a friend, but there are other times when you need a sister and climbing into a wedding dresses amid the layers of satin, lace, and organza, half naked with an insulin pump dangling between your legs is definitely a time when you need a sister. For those of you have yet to experience the thrill of getting into a wedding dress head first I personally liken it to the experience of being born; granted my own recollection of that experience is limited (errr non-existent), but attempting to climb through the fabric and enter the world is rather awkward/exposing, if you will... and to this end you cannot do it on your own - just like there have to at least be two people involved in the whole being born process.

My Unit Members!

Nevertheless, the whole dress process is not as safe as people may suggest - in fact I would say it is hazardous, not only to the pocket book, but to the bride’s safety. I know this from personal experience, as, while manoeuvring into the dress, I was attacked. It was traumatic.  I was whiny.  And as the mental horror of the experience has lasted with me I feel it is worth telling my tale to others in order to offer protection and guidance for future would-be brides.

Therefore, please read my traumatic tale of trying on trousseau (yeah for dictionary.com): (SCARY MUSIC) Marie Greig - AGE 25 - VICTIM - Dress ATTACK: While innocently trying on dresses I assumed I was safe from harm, a fact that is important to me as I am a very careful person – I always stand back of the yellow line, I brake when the light is amber, I never rip the mattress tag off, well you get the point (and now you think I am a loser, but that is entirely irrelevant to this tale). Nonetheless, the attack was sneaky and devious as while I was under the cloak of fabric belonging to a dress that weighed approximately the same amount as an entourage of elephants I saw stars – BANG! – POW! – ZOKK! – CRASH! – KABOOM! (sorry still on the Batman kick...). One second I had my arms in the air and the dress was sliding down nicely and the next – SLICE! The ribbing inside the dress carved up my forehead with a near life threatening wound (tear)... even now the horror of the moment is more than I can handle. Okay, I might be exaggerating with the whole life threatening thing, but really it hurt and while some may say I acted like a baby (cough, everyone), I nonetheless wore this badge of survival on my forehead for MANY, MANY days after. I also have to say it provided my family members with an endless source of entertainment as yet another “Mariestrophe” occurred (kind of like a catastrophe with a dash of Marie thrown in for excitement).  Therefore, BRIDES BEWARE - DRESS SHOPPING IS NOT AS SAFE AS THE RETAILERS WOULD LEAD YOU TO BELIEVE!

Drum Roll Please...

Despite my injury and the stress of my missing dress, trying on the dresses was entertaining and the constant banter of my crew provided a least a source of comfort for my frazzled nears (WHERE IS THE DRESS?). Mallory and Megan in their kind hearted efforts even had the store’s staff pull a dress that I had noticed on a poster in the window when I was entering, but honestly I could not focus, I could only think about MY dress...

Despite my stress I have to say that the sales consultant helping me was incredible; seriously she may be one of my new favourite people (if you are in the neighbourhood of Greensburg, Pennsylvania and need a wedding gown make sure to visit Aliesha Pocratsky - like me she is getting married in Fall 2010 and accordingly we had lots in common and she understood my stress to a T). That is why it makes perfect sense that the one person who could help me was another bride and she truly.  In fact she lived up to the name of my change room (Happiness) when she entered with “THE DRESS” in her hands... INSERT JOY AND TRIUMPH.

Don’t get jealous Cindy... I sense an ode to Aliesha in the future...

The moment was here I was going to try on the dress of my dreams (why were my hands sweating?). Megan and I entered the change room and I slipped into the dress with excitement building by the second. Sue, Mallory and my Mom waited in the change area for my grand entrance and everyone held their breath...

War Wound and Happiness... Interesting Combination...

So what happened? Was it the moment I had waited for? Did I love the dress and buy it instantly? Did it really look like the size 30 purple pant suit I had dreaded? Did Bicycle Bill show up to offer his suggestions on this season’s formal wear? Well the answers to all the above will have to wait, as it is bed time (man, sleep really puts a cramp on my blogging style). If only someone would pay me to stay at home and bore all my friends and family with my tales of weddingness- “Holy Nuptials, Batman!”

Diary of a Wedding Dress Shopper (Part One)

When it is 4:30 in the morning and my alarm clock goes off, I typically liken the experience to the “thrill” of having one’s teeth removed by a three-sheets-to-wind, cell phone texting chimpanzee (please note: I have not gained this knowledge from personal experience). However, this morning the pain typically associated with waking up is almost non-existent, as the BIG day is here: Wedding Dress Shopping Day!

While I am sure you are perched on the edge of your seat waiting for me to explain what came after 4:30 in the morning I thought it would be best if I provided a one minute recap of the last few months of my wedding dress shopping woes before I detail the rest of my day.

One Minute Wedding Dress Recap:

A Monologue by Marie Elizabeth

Act One, Scene One: [Scene: Nathan Phillips Square – Marie and Brandon] “Yes! Yes! Yes! I will marry you Brandon!”

Act Two, Scene One: [Scene: Home – Marie] “Self, this is easy I’ll search the Internet for wedding dresses, find a designer I like and then go to the store that carries that designer...”

Act Three, Scene One: [Scene: All of GTA – Marie] “What do you mean you don’t have this dress?”

Act Three, Scene Two: [Scene: Eaton Centre at Lunch Hour – Marie] “Ring, Ring... Hello Thunder Bay – Hmpf”

Act Three, Scene Three: [Scene: Eaton Centre at Lunch Hour – Marie] “Ring, Ring... Hello Montreal – Urgh and Sigh”

Act Three, Scene Four: [Scene: Eaton Centre at Lunch Hour – Marie] “Ring, Ring... Hello New York – @#$%^&;*#@!?È”

Act Four, Scene One: [Scene: Home – Marie] “Ring, Ring... Hello Pennsylvania – You mean they can bring the dress into the store for me to try on? (15 minutes elapse) WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT IS BACKORDERED UNTIL 2015?! I GIVE UP! But, I still like the dress....”

Act Five, Scene One: [Scene: GO Train – Marie and Denise] “Ring, Ring... Hello Michigan Bridal... Cindy! You rock! Thanks for the top secret telephone number of the dress designer”

Act Five, Scene Two: [Scene: GO Train – Marie and Denise] “Ring, Ring... Hello MB Bridal... Greensburg Pennsylvania here I come!” (Aside: Yes I do think it is madness going to Pennsylvania for a wedding dress)

The End

So with the intense anticipation of going to see the ever elusive dress I have managed to chase across the Eastern Seaboard I was practically vibrating with excitement when my alarm rang at 4:30 in the morning on October 24, 2009.

Therefore, after a stop to grab Mallory (Sue was driving, mom was riding shot gun and Megan was sharing the backseat with me) and a visit to Tim Hortons (mandatory requirement), we hit the road and head south.

Cracker Barrel Has Its Own Map!  Who Knew?

Our first real pit stop was at the visitor centre just across the New York/Pennsylvania border and if you know anything about me and my family you would know that pit stops mean it is time to take pictures. Accordingly, Sue, Mallory, Mom and myself peacefully gathered by the “WELCOME TO PENNSYLVANIA” sign while Megan fiddled with the self timer on her camera so we could take a group picture.  

Welcome to Pennsylvania Ladies!

From Left to Right: Megan, Sue, Mom, Me and Mallory

UNTIL... Enter 60 year old man dressed in army fatigues with matching trucker hat (where is Queer Eye when you need it?).  Despite everyone’s whispered protests the gentleman took the camera and snapped off a few shots of our smiling crew beside the sign. Now please do not get me wrong, I am not a bad person, nor are my friends/family, but I think everyone felt this situation had one too few teeth for our liking (if you know what I mean).

After the mini-photo shoot our stand in photographer uttered a sentence I will never forget for the rest of my life (please sit if you are not already seated as this may be too much, I would also recommend going to the bathroom), the sentence was and forever will be: “Hi, my name is Bicycle Bill AND Jesus Loves you AND so do I”.  Now as you can imagine this is the moment where the situation got awkward and a few members of our party had to divert themselves to the bathroom to avoid embarrassment, while the rest of us headed to the car at top speed with Bicycle Bill not far behind.

Bicycle Bill

Therefore, with mirth and smiles we packed ourselves back into the car (Bill was not far behind – oddly enough he didn’t ride a bicycle) and departed to our end destination: Greensburg, Pennsylvania (for more information or if you too want to visit Greensburg, please visit: http://www.city.greensburg.pa.us/ or http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greensburg,_Pennsylvania (if you are more the Wikipedia Type)).

We drove and we drove and finally we arrived in Greensburg, Pennsylvania (we didn’t get lost!). And with 5 minutes to spare (we had a 1 pm appointment) we arrived at MB Bridal (for more information in the event you wish to drive seven plus hours to find a wedding dress, please visit: http://www.mbbride.com/).

 On Time Like a Swiss Clock, errrr... Sue Clock?

The anticipation was building and after a few pictures (as we are total nerds) by the sign we ventured inside to find THE dress.  I was impressed with the store as it had lots of dress options (not that we were there for the options) and the staff was fantastic. First, we were shown to our change room (called the “Happiness Room” – a good sign if I have ever seen one before) and then it was time for the dress to be brought in and for me to try on THE dress of my dreams, a dress that will make me smile and feel beautiful, my mom to weep and Brandon to fall in love with me a little more than he has already... WRONG!

 We’re Here!

The dress was MIA and with my heart tucked securely in my throat I searched through the rack of dresses, panicking the entire time that I would not only have my hopes dashed, but would have to explain to the four busy people I dragged more than seven hours from home that we are back at square one and exactly 379.04 miles away from home... GULP!

So what happens next?  Do I find my dress?  Does it actually end up being size 30, a pantsuit and purple?  Does it make my mom cry?  Do I return from Pennsylvania successful?  Well all those answers will have to wait until next time (which will be tomorrow more than likely – assuming swine flu and all the other events of the past few weeks don’t delay my tale!  Sorry everyone for being slow to post as of late - I know this is edge of your seat excitement – cough).  So in an Adam Westian type way – tune in next time, same wedding website, same crazy wedding blogger.