Fishing for the Dress

I’m off to Washington DC to play with my bridesmaid friend. None of them has even seen the ring yet, and don’t you just know that’s all people really care about for now? This particular bridesmaid will either understand my guest list woes or set me straight on undue complaining: she is no-nonsense and couldn’t we all just need a kick in the pants sometimes?

Said no-nonsense bridesmaid has already made an appointment at a bridal gown shop as well as a bridesmaidy dress place. Like I said, no-nonsense. Time shall not be wasted here. The idea of trying on a dress makes me kind of sweaty; I do see a possible panic attack on the horizon. Not like Carrie from Sex and the City when she starts to fret about marrying Aidan (stupidest mistake ever) and Miranda has to literally rip her out of the dress, but more like sweaty palms and nausea and a racing heart about a) what I look like as a bride, b) what I will have to pay to look like that and c) having one more decision to make months in advance that I better damn like come The Big Day.

But DC is fun, and we are going to the farmer’s market and watching fun movies and reading gossip magazines I will buy at the airport, so it’s won’t be all freak-out inducing.