A collection of grievances, memories, occasional musings, and everyday happenings

Six Weeks

Leave a comment

Six weeks from today, ladies and gentlemen, I will be Mrs. Holly Kooi.

Isn’t that wild? (And terribly grand!(Arrested Development Reference))

For most of my life I’ve thought to myself, I can’t wait to have a different last name so I don’t have to spell it out for people all the time.

Boy did I get that thought wrong.

The other day Will and I were at Lowe’s to exchange a bag of nails.  Will gave the gum-smacking, bored-out-of-my-mind-and-I-want-YOU-to-know gal his receipt.  She looked at it, looked at Will, looked at it again, snapped her gum once more then asked, “Uh, is your last name the word that starts with a K?”

Fantastic.

Did I tell you that our ring insurance is currently under the name “William Eugene KooL”?

The wedding planning is going well.  Someone asks me about it at least twice a day and I always respond with, “It’s going…!”

It really is, though.  Mendy and I have hit up Hobby Lobby twice, and both times left with three carts full.  We’ve also been to Sam’s where we collected as much as necessary for the Rehearsal Dinner and Reception.  The centerpieces have been completely finished thanks to my wonderful, wonderful friends Erica and Brianna, so I don’t have to worry about overcoming that hurtle anymore, thank goodness.  The invitations have been printed and are officially out and about, so check your student mailboxes (then RSVP!).  All that’s left are the final payments, final confirmations, last minute orders, final parties (yes), and final fittings.

I went to my first and hopefully last dress fitting yesterday.  You can ask my ribs how it went – they would tell you very truthfully how they felt about the experience, though I do hope they’ll clean up the language for you before telling you the whole story.  I’m joking.  I never cursed once.  My face just scrunched up a lot while the lady kept asking, “Can you breathe?”

Guess I’ll be breathing in short breaths through the ceremony.

A few people have asked me if I’ve had any wedding dreams yet.  I have not, though I did have a very vivid dream about my centerpieces, which have several shades of loveliest blue in them.  My dream then consisted of nothing but blue ribbon, blue vases, blue marbles, blue candles, and blue flowers.  My centerpieces are much more varied than that, but my dream presented the opposite.  The dream was so ridiculous that I actually woke up, sat up, and told myself to no longer dream about the color blue.  It didn’t work because my dream continued right where I left off.  I guess that kind of dream is better than having the “naked at the altar” dream.

If you’ve read my past entries, you’ll know that our wedding cake is going to be unlike any other wedding cake you’ve ever seen.  I’ve been in touch with the precious lady who has been busily and excitedly customizing our The Beatles – Abbey Road cake toppers.  As a teaser, I’ll show you Ringo, and hope you enjoy this parting story:

My Granddaddy Ray is my mother’s father.  He lives in Georgia, about ten minutes away from my parents who visit him regularly.  A week ago, my parents were over at his house and my mom was showing him my and Will’s engagement pictures.  Granddaddy Ray came across this picture:

… and asked my mom how my Uncle David was able to get “those other two guys” to pose with us and walk across the street like that.  My Granddaddy was most impressed with how we are all so evenly spaced.

My mother told him that was George Harrison and John Lennon.  He said, “Oh.”

Advertisements

Author: Holly

Vienna-based American wife/mom/expat.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s