Wedding Photo No No By Lisa

I have to admit, My wedding day was pretty damn perfect.(Thank GAWD considering all the time I spent planning it!) And even though there was a crazy rainstorm that rivaled a monsoon just the day before,  I woke up to bright blue sunny skies on the big day. (All my praying to the Universe paid off!)

I had planned every detail- from "hiring" the perfect MOH to picking the color of the frosting on the mini cupcakes. But I wasn't obsessed, I swear! In fact, for a Type-A'er, I was strangely laid back. There may have been a minor panic attack when our ceremony didn't start exactly at 2:00,(Sorry about that Liz!) but other than that, I was just happy to be getting married. And I was so relieved that, after months of research, I'd found the perfect photographer that would capture the moments I'd look back on for years. Because I really needed someone who would get me my "money shot" on the beach (pictured left). Okay, so *maybe* I was a little obsessed about that too...

So you'd think by now I would  have moved mountains to be surrounded by my  fabulous wedding pictures that say so much about the best day of my life....

Um, not so much.

So I scoffed at the idea of having the photographer make me a "wedding album" because I thought I would have mine done in the day after the honeymoon. Right? I was chapter photographer in our sorority! I was organized. I didn't need help...

Well, it's been seven months and two days (but who's counting) since I said "I do" and I still don't have a single wedding photo adorning my wall or taking up real estate on the front of the refrigerator, let alone a coffee mug or mouse pad. I guess I can now be grouped with the people who have thousands of photos sitting on their digital camera and, gulp, never print them out! (In my defense, I did manage to get mine downloaded to iPhoto...)

I realize I've been a little busy being a newlywed and being pregnant and all, but I've been telling myself I'll get to it since the day I received the link from the photographer. But one month lead to another month and before I knew it, I was six months pregnant, seven months married and wedding photo-less.

Well lucky for me, Snapfish came to the rescue. Snapfish is celebrating September Photo Book Month and helped me complete my wedding album. (Here's a link to my photobook!) It took about ten minutes to create an 8x8, 20 page book. All I had to do was upload the photos and they made the book for me!  They have a variety of photobooks from 8x11 custom cover books to 12x12 signature photo books and even 2x3 mini books. And today, one of you will win a $50 gift certificate to make your own book! Just leave a comment and we'll randomly select the winner Friday night.

So thank you, Snapfish, for helping me correct my wedding photo no no and helping me make a photo book of my special day. Now I just have to get some pictures in some frames...Maybe they can help me with that too?



The Bride Card By Lisa

Some might say the President of the United States is the most powerful man in the world. Others might argue its celebrities like Madonna, Elton John or Brad Pitt who dominate. I say there’s no doubt those people are all important, but there’s someone with a lot more influence and authority. Someone who red carpets roll out for, champagne constantly appears for and anyone will do anything for.

The bride.

For one day, more important than any other uniform in the world is the white dress and veil. And more exclusive and powerful than even the elusive black American Express is another card. A card you only get to carry for one day. A card that you can milk for access to anyone and anything. A card that gets you a yes to any question you ask. A card that allows you to act however you want and still get whatever you want.

The bride card.

Even my award-winning Matron of Honor, Liz, (more on that in a minute) used it. In fact, I might even argue she became drunk with power as the words bridal suite rolled off her tongue with such ease you’d think she’d lived in the 650 square foot space all of her life. If I so much as blinked or even slightly furrowed my brow, Liz was on the phone faster than you can say bridezilla expertly using some combination of the words, “the bride wants”, “the bride needs” or “the bride is REALLY, REALLY thirsty and will ONLY drink White Star champagne.”

Or even when the bride card wasn’t being used for me, but was not so secretly being used for her (um, like rush ordering a hamburger the night before my wedding because the “bride was hungry”) as far as I’m concerned, she was entitled to use it. She deserved to whip out the card because she blocked and tackled like there was no tomorrow. Forget that dude from The Blind Side, Liz may as well have been 6'7" and 350 pounds of rippling muscle as she watched my back.

Like when she offered to kick the asses of certain people who got a little over excited about the concept of an open bar or when she promised to personally rip the wildly inappropriate ensemble off a certain someone and replace it with something far more acceptable like a burlap sack or when my photographer asked us to “dolphin kiss” (not Matt and me—Liz and me!) for the second time (the first was traumatic enough) and she whispered through her toothless smile, “if he even infers we should hold hands, I’ll shove his camera where the sun don’t shine.”

And all the while, I got to float along behind her with a huge toothy smile on my face- wondering if this was what the Queen of England or a mob boss felt like- having someone else to do their dirty work for them.

I’d like to take a moment to give Liz the Matron of Honor of the Year award and thank her for:

  • Wearing four-inch heels during the ceremony even though the highest she ever goes is 1.5.
  • Reminding me to keep things in perspective. Most notably when I called her in a heated panic over a mysterious rash that had appeared on my back and she sternly yet softly warned me that I’d better get it together and realize there were people out there with real problems- like in Haiti.
  • Telling me it was okay that I cried with joy when I saw and loved myself in my wedding dress.
  • And also that it was okay to say out loud that as a producer I thought my wedding was a damn. Good. Show.
  • Sticking her entire head under my wedding dress to put on my “something borrowed” garter and smiling bravely as she got more up close and personal than even my Russian bikini waxer, Tatiana, and saw things she should’ve never had to see. In. Her. Entire. Life. (We’re close, but not that close!)
  • For doing her bride proud and giving a kick ass, laugh out loud MOH speech. (Hilarious highlights include, but are not limited to, the reminder of the pure bred cat I came dangerously close to ordering in the height of my singledom, the list of former metrosexual boyfriends including the Ryan Seacrest wannabe and the very astute and simultaneously frightening observation that my husband, Matt is practically Liz in a wig.)

Thank you, MOH!!!!

Well, I'm happy to report that my wedding day was the best day of my life. And it's not because I got to play the bride card (okay maybe that was a tiny part of it) but because I have the best friends and family anyone could ask for! And I married the best man I could ever ask for.

Oh, and I wore the best. damn. dress. evuh!

On that note-would it be weird if I arbitrarily decided to wear my wedding dress, say, out to dinner or even to run errands? The thought of packing her away makes me too sad for words and the thought of not being the bride anymore, well, I can't even talk about it!