Final days

The wedding is approaching at alarming speed. This time last week I was still complaining about work, today I'm running endless lists in my head wondering what on earth it is that I've forgotten to do. Because I will have forgotten something, mark my words.

At present I'm supposed to be sending a copy of one of our readings for the ceremony to my friend, but I'm blogging instead. So I'll probably forget that.

I came up to the farm on Tuesday afternoon to find my mother a virtual whirlwind of activity. She has lots of lists which is helpful. And she's remembering things I'm not (I thought it was supposed to be the other way around?).

Yesterday we had an appointment with our reception venue coordinator. Very happy with the venue and all the arrangements, especially my banquet tables. They are going to look awesome. The coordinator remarked that I seem pretty calm for someone getting married in a few days, and she was surprised that she hadn't heard more from me over the past few months. She said other brides are usually constantly on the phone/email/wanting meetings. I could only think to myself - what for? Surely your floral arrangements, linen hire, caterer and DJ aren't that taxing in their requirements? You hire people, they show up and do their job. Trust your vendors, Bridezilla. Trust them and all will be well.

In the afternoon I had a waxing appointment and happily gossiped with the girl about beauty maintenance whist she ripped off my facial hairs. It occurs to me that I'll never give myself an excuse to pamper myself in this way ever again - hair dye, make up, waxing, spray tan, professional hair-do, manicure... I could never justify the expense. How do those high maintenance ladies do it?

Today we went to town with dad and got him a new dress shirt and tie (very helpful shop assistant, shout-out to the young man in Tarocash Grand Central!), then trundled over to the liquor barn to look at booze. I was just guiding the purchasing, as dad and future father-in-law are doing the actual purchasing tomorrow. Knowing nothing about champagne I have instructed them to buy a middle-range one (no brut), no Yellow (which I abhor). For the white wine I have asked for a Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough NZ (can't go wrong) and the red will be a Cabernet Merlot of some description (leaving that up to them as I don't drink red).

This afternoon my makeup artist came over and did a trial run of my face, and a spray tan. Extremely happy with the makeup (not too dramatic or OTT, I still look like myself but nicer) and the spray tan wasn't too bad. It was cold (but I expected that, having watched Toddlers & Tiaras). It just remains to be seen how well it turns out, should be able to see the shade by tomorrow. If I go full Tandoori, you may never hear from me again. Tomorrow - wedding rehearsal, last minute details and a good night's sleep. Hurrah!

Hen's (I refuse to call it a "Night")

On Saturday my wonderful bridesmaid organised a "do". I refused to call it a Hen's Night because of the negative connotations associated with the phrase. You know what I mean. I encountered several other parties in my travels on the night having Hen's Nights and I can tell you they embodied everything I hate about the "ladette" culture that seems to be prevailing amoungst young ladies lately. Yes, I'm a snob, I know that.


My gorgeous bridesmaid knows this and suggested straight away instead of an evening drinking/watching male strippers/having a "naughty" scavenger hunt/generally being vulgar, that we go to High Tea. She knew it was something I'd always wanted to do and of course it made me love her even more that she knows me so well. I had given her strict instructions - no idiotic pink veil, flashing badges or penis straws. That paraphrenalia makes me uncomfortable in the extreme (and I think it's vulgar, and people only go along with that stuff because they feel they have to).  One cousin still showed up with penis-shaped peppermints because she just can't help herself, but I forgave her because she also made a bride bear for my guests to sign and a (tasteful, kind of) tiara with small veil for me to wear.

 

We went to the Marriott at 3pm. It was lovely. For $35 a head we got sandwiches, little tarts and eclairs, scones, tea or coffee and a complimentary glass of sparkling white. The staff were lovely and the service exquisite. They even put our napkins in our laps for us. And didn't mind that I had a teddy bear dressed as a bride in the middle of the table.

We stayed until 5pm and I got tipsy on two glasses of that lovely sparkling wine. My cousin considered buying us a bottle of the 1971 Dom but then thought it would probably be wasted on our uneducated palate.

Next we wandered down Eagle St to Jade Buddha. Now, I loathe pubs and loud events with alcohol of all kinds (including but not limited to Race Days, country shows and music festivals) but I was making an exception for this establishment. Why? Well because it's posh. And it was early in the afternoon, so we would be beating the usual crowd (a mix of people who think they are somebody, clothes horses and try-hards). We got a table easily and when the upstairs lounge bar opened (called Shadow Lounge) we went upstairs and chose a spot where we could look out at the Storey Bridge. Best view in the city in my humble opinion.

We had a few more drinks, played a game of 'how well do you know the bride' and had some tapas. Nice. I was one of four other bride-to-be's there, which was a little disconcerting. Who knew there were so many hens in the city on a Saturday night? I feel even more sorry for bar staff now.
Anyways, it was pretty much my ideal afternoon and evening - conversation and good friends. Later someone had the bright idea of continuing the evening down at The Victory with some karoke. When we were about to go in, one of my cousins turned to me and said "aren't you glad we didn't get you a six-foot tall inflatable penis?" and pointed. And lo, there was a hen up ahead, complete with veil and sash, dutifully carrying a six-foot inflatable penis.

And then I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn't her.

I called it a night about 11pm and went back to the hotel with Mum. She, my brother's girlfriend and I had booked a room at Oaks Charlotte Towers, an establishment I can recommend most readily, should you ever need to stay in Brisbane city. Great access to both the Mall and riverside.

My partner's buck's night is next weekend. His best man hasn't organised a thing, but I suspect it won't be high tea and quiet drinks on the deck.

Did you have a hen's night? What would be your ideal pre-marriage celebration?