T-2 Days: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3
T-1 Day: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4
Wedding Day: Part 1
My dad and I brought the breakfast plate to my mom. I was surprised she was awake. It was about 8:30AM, and she had just gotten back from the hospital at 5:00AM, when my grandmother was admitted. I gave her the breakfast plate, and reminded my mom that the hair stylist would arrive at the hotel by 9:45.
There was a weird look on my mom’s face. She told me that my grandmother could be released from the hospital at noon because my grandmother was demanding to be released. And since my grandmother was lucid, the hospital could not force her to stay. I knew that everyone, including me, was tired and in no mood for a confrontation, but I nearly flipped the fuck out. My mom said that if my grandmother was being released at noon, that my mom would have to leave around 10AM for the hospital so that she could be there for all the discharge instructions and everything.
I said, "We have been to enough hospitals with enough people to know that getting discharged from the hospital NEVER happens on time. In fact, it can take hours! Which would lead us right up to the start of the wedding ceremony."
I felt badly, because I could tell my mom was really torn about what to do. I said, "Can you just explain to the hospital that today is your daughter’s wedding and see what they can do?" My mom told me that the hospital had asked a couple of time’s about her power of attorney over my grandmother and had asked her for documentation of it. My mom told me my grandmother’s lawyer’s name and asked me if I could find the lawyer’s contact information online.
I reminded my mom, again, that the hair stylist would arrive at 9:45, which was just over an hour from then. I had no idea whether my mom would be there. I went back to my room, where my laptop was, to track down the lawyer’s contact information.
Ken called a few minutes after I got back to the hotel room and said he had gotten things set up at the venue and was on his way back to the hotel. I went back down to the buffet and fixed him a plate of food so that he’d have something to eat since the buffet would be closing in just a few minutes. He called me again about 10 minutes later, asking where I was because I wasn’t answering the hotel room door and he had forgotten his key. I told him I was in the lobby at the buffet, and he was surprised, saying he had just been down there. We must’ve passed each other on the elevator!
Ken came to the buffet in the lobby, where I was, and ate some breakfast. We talked for a few minutes and then he had to leave to go get a shave at a barber right by the hotel (Ken is a terrible shaver, so I made, er asked politely, that he go for professional shaves for both the wedding and our engagement photos six months earlier.)
Right as Ken was about to leave, I saw the hair stylist from a distance getting in the elevator. I yelled out her name, because I knew there would be no answer at our door if she went up to our room. But she didn’t hear me. So I said goodbye to Ken and went upstairs to meet with the hairstylist, who was about 15 minutes early.
When I got upstairs, she was waiting outside my room, and it looked like she was about to call me on my cell phone. I let her inside the room so that she could set up her gear on the desk area. We rearranged chairs in the hotel room so that the folks getting their hair done would not be sitting in such a high-back chair.
I called my mom to let her know that the hair stylist was there early since my mom was scheduled to go first. My mom has extremely short hair, so I figured she would have less of a concern of her hair like "falling down" or not looking as fresh for the ceremony. But my mom hadn’t even showered yet. UGH.
Right around that time, Ken’s sister stopped by my room to say hello. She was staying just a few doors down. I was thinking maybe she would be ready to have her hair done first, but when she came in, her hair was soaking wet, and the hair stylist was very clear that wet hair would lead to additional charges. It still wasn’t quite 9:45, the time that the hair stylist was scheduled to start, so I wasn’t all that concerned.
While we were waiting, I filled in the hair stylist about all the drama that happened the night before. I also commented on how glad I was that the room was quiet and that I was able to relax. I stood up and poured myself a glass of white wine from the found wine cube. Box wine in a plastic cup at 9:45 in the morning on this girl’s wedding day? CLASSY!
Ken’s sister came back to the room with her 2-year-old daughter. Her hair was dry and ready for styling. She had a picture of the style that she wanted, and the hair stylist got to work. Her daughter was being good and patient while her mom was getting her hair done, and I found some Elmo games on Sesame Street’s website to keep her occupied.
My mom arrived shortly after Ken’s sister started getting her hair done. I think it worked out well that way. I could tell my mom was warm having just gotten out of the shower, and I think she enjoyed some time to just sit down in my hotel room and relax. Clearly she was there in the room with me and hadn’t left for the hospital to pick up my grandmother, but I still wasn’t sure what was going on with all of that.
Ken arrived in the room after getting his professional shave. He commented that this barber was pretty good, compared to the barber he went to for the engagement photos. He had previously said that the barber he went to for his engagement photo shave had actually hurt and burned a bit as they were shaving him. I liked seeing his face so cleanly shaven! It almost never happens! He got in the shower.
The hair stylist finished Ken’s sister’s hair and it was my mom’s turn. I asked the stylist how long she thought it would take to do my mom’s hair so that I could let my sister know. The stylist said she would be done with my mom’s hair in about 20 minutes. So I called my sister to let her know that the hair stylist would be ready for her at about 10:45. When I called, her husband answered, and asked him to relay the message to my sister who was in the shower. I heard my sister in the background. 10:45??? It was supposed to be 11:15!!!! I told him to tell her to just relax and come up when she was ready. I figured since the hair stylist had given me very precise appointment times, I couldn’t be penalized for someone not being ready early.
So, I just sat on the bed in the hotel room, continued to drink box wine out of a plastic cup, and the hair stylist just took a quick break and ate a granola bar.
Ken was done in the shower and had put on some regular clothes and left for the venue. There was a knock on the door five minutes later. It was Ken. He had forgotten his suit (and his dad’s suit) to change into at the venue!! Oops! He departed again, this time with the suits. Right around the time he departed for the venue, my mom got a phone call, although I’m not sure if it was from the hospital or from my grandmother. My grandmother would not be released from the hospital that afternoon. I breathed a long sigh of relief knowing that she would be well taken care of in the hospital and would not be released (again) against medical advice.
My sister arrived and the stylist started her hair. My sister told the stylist that she wanted her hair flat ironed. I continued to sit on the bed and just mess around online, checking twitter and pinterest. At one point I glanced up, and the stylist was curling my sister’s hair. There was no mirror over by the desk, so my sister couldn’t quite tell what the stylist was doing. I thought to myself, "oh, my sister said she wanted her hair flat ironed, but maybe there’s some special way to flatten hair with a curling iron, just like you can actually curl hair using a flat iron." But my sister’s hair was looking pretty curly.
So I interrupted. "You wanted your hair flat ironed, right?" And my sister responded, "yes." Then the stylist looked confused and said she must’ve misunderstood my sister. Do, she started over, this time with a flat iron, not a curling iron.
At this point the stylist was running pretty early, and I was starting to get a bit concerned. The photographer was not scheduled to arrive until noon, but I definitely wanted to make sure that the photographer was able to get some shots of me getting my hair done. My plan was to ask the hair stylist when she was about 20 minutes from being done with my sister’s hair so that I could change into my wedding dress.
Oh right, I don’t think I’ve mentioned that story. When I went for my final dress fitting just two weeks earlier, my dress was a really awkward/tight fit over my head. Since the dress had sleeves, I couldn’t just "step into" the dress. I had e-mailed the stylist and asked her opinion about putting my dress on before having my hair done as long as I put on a long robe over the dress. She replied that that would probably be a good idea if my dress was a tight fit over my head. But, she warned me that since I would be sitting for so long, my dress might get wrinkled. I mulled this over about a week before the wedding and decided that I’d rather have a wrinkled dress than a messed up hair style, especially since I’d have my steamer at the venue for the day-of-coordinator to de-wrinkle the tablecloths anyway. Since it was the same steamer I saw at the tailor’s house, I knew it would be safe on my dress.
Anyway, the stylist was done with my sister’s hair, but I was determined that I would not have my hair started until my designated appointment time. So I waited until the stylist was completely done with my sister’s hair, and then got dressed. Right around the time that the stylist was done with my sister’s hair, my mom’s cousin stopped by my room. My mom was getting her cousin all caught up on the drama with my grandmother. So once my sister was done, I grabbed my spanx and bra and headed into the bathroom. I put on the spanx and bra and then came out.
It was time to put on my dress!
