So here we are… one day out from the wedding. So many thanks to all of you who participated in the virtual wedding shower! Mike and I are very grateful for the wonderful gifts we’ve gotten and for the love and support that the gifts represent. 🙂
Friday night I had an appointment to get my hair done at a new salon downtown. I walked there, and it was so interesting. Even though it was only 5:30pm, it was completely dark out but there were so many people walking around downtown and so many Christmas lights up that I felt as though I was in some sort of nighttime Christmas village. When I got to the salon and went inside, it felt glaringly bright after the darkness of outside. I looked around, and there were only four chairs in the waiting room. Two non-adjacent seats were occupied by smartly dressed men in suits, ties, and long woolen overcoats. One of the other seats held a coat and gloves. I sat in the one remaining seat which was rather inconveniently located between the two men. I felt a little awkward because they were both so dressed up and I was carrying my work backpack and wearing a warm but not particularly dressy winter coat. However, I soon realized that the two men knew each other very well. And they were carrying on a pretty hilarious conversation.
“As long as I’m here waiting anyway, I should just get my own hair cut.”
“Nope. Can’t. They don’t cut hair here.”
“What? What in heaven’s name do they do here then?”
“They style but not cut?”
“I think so. She probably knows.” The extra talkative man turned to me. “So sorry to intrude, but do they cut hair here or just style?”
I assured him that they only styled.
“And makeup too, right?” he asked. “They probably do makeup too?”
I assured him they did that too.
“Told you so,” the outgoing man said with the air of a man who knows his business.
The slightly older, slightly quieter man stroked his chin. “That’s a crazy thing. Styling but no cutting. How do they make a business of that?”
The talkative man shrugged before turning to me again. “Do women come here all the time to get styled or just before galas?”
I was wrapping my head around the word ‘gala’, trying to remember the last time I’d heard it used outside of Charles Dickens books (which is honestly where I felt like these two men had come from, based on their elegant appearance and the British accent of the slightly older man). I felt a little out of my element.
“Um. I only come here before – um – ‘galas’. It’s pretty pricey to do all the time.”
“Hmm. So what gala are you attending?”
“Well, I’m getting married next week and this is a trial run for my hair.”
On hearing this, both men offered me hearty congratulations.
“If you happen to need ushers, we’re both dressed for it,” the talkative man offered, gesturing towards their suits.
They both seemed in such a good mood that I couldn’t help but say, “You both are really good sports about this. I don’t think many men are so easygoing about spending their Friday night waiting in a salon.”
“Ha!” the more talkative man said throwing back his head with a laugh. “I’d far rather spend time here than where we’re heading.”
“Where are you going?”
“We’re waiting for my wife to get finished here and then we’re going to the Seattle Lawyer Associations annual Christmas ball. We’re trial lawyers.”
For some reason, their personalities made more sense to me when I placed them in the context of lawyers, even though I haven’t met many lawyers. I told them this, and the outgoing man looked disappointed.
“Really? I like to think we have a little more personality than most lawyers. Well, I do anyway. Him, I’m not so sure of.” He gestured towards his quieter friend who raised his eyebrows but seemed unaffected by the slight.
At that moment the outgoing man’s wife appeared, looking gorgeous and carrying a particularly lovely purse. It was large and grey and caught the eyes of the quieter man. “I’m looking for a purse for my wife for Christmas,” he said. “She told me she wants one.”
“Yes. Bloody crazy. Every woman dotes on that purse of my wife’s. I think it looks like an *********”. (censored for blog content, but hilarious and appropriate considering the size and color of the purse. I tried not to laugh.)
“It’s a beautiful purse,” I said, even though his comparison was still fresh in my mind.
The quieter man looked at me hopefully as though I might be a purse expert. “Maybe my wife would like a purse like that.”
“Um. Well, what designers does she like?”
“I have no idea.”
“But she has purses, right? Maybe look at some of those and see what brands she has. Those are probably the ones she likes.”
“Yes,” he said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair, as though solemnly weighing the enormity of that task.
At that point the outgoing man’s wife was ready to leave and they graciously thanked me for conversing with them and headed out to the lawyers Christmas ball.
It was an extremely surreal experience, and I definitely felt as though I had stepped into a Charles Dickens novel while I was speaking with them.
On Saturday we moved a bunch more of Mike’s stuff to the new apartment. His old apartment is getting pretty bare. We also did some to-do items. Like Mike put up Christmas lights around our living room window and I made out thank you notes while we had on Christmas music. Mike was unsurprisingly not moved by the Christmas music and had a few comments during the process. These included the following:
– “This isn’t even a Christmas song” (referencing ‘Here we come a wassailing”)
– “Is this Willy Nelson?? Figures.” (referencing a Willy Nelson version of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”
– “Haven’t we already heard this?” (referencing “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”… sung by multiple artists)
– “Is this from the 40’s or something?” (referencing Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas”)
-“What is this song even talking about?? It makes no sense.” (referencing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Mike got particularly annoyed when I proceeded to sing along to the song. I think he’s appalled that his fiancee knows the lyrics to such a nonsensical song.)
On Saturday night after the moving, we were both tired and got dinner at an informal local restaurant downtown. Mike and I both ordered the same drink, and when they were brought to the table they were served in adorable copper mugs with a mule etched into each one. Mike and my eyes met over the mug and we both realized instantly that we wanted mugs like that for our house. When the waiter came back, Mike tried the subtle approach.
“These mugs are really cool. What would your manager say if we asked to buy these two?”
The waiter looked blank. “Yeah… I’m not really sure. I don’t know where he got them. Yeah, they are cool though… the owner here likes things to be a little different.”
Mike tried again, again going for subtlety “If these two mugs are gone when we leave, how much extra will you tack onto our bill?”
The waiter gave a little laugh, obviously not knowing whether Mike was serious or kidding. “Hmm.. I don’t know. $30? I don’t really know if they’re for sale.”
However, I was already on my smart phone looking up the company name etched on the bottom of the mugs. I found them pretty quickly, and now Mike and I have some surprisingly inexpensive copper mugs on the way!
On Sunday Mike and I tried a new church recommended by the pastor who will be officiating our wedding. It wasn’t too far away and we both liked it pretty well. We’ll probably go back a few more times and see if we get a stronger impression. The sermon was very relevant and applicable, and both Mike and I appreciated that. Surprisingly, I ran into an acquaintance from work there! That was a nice surprise. Afterwards we ran errands and discovered that sometimes it takes longer to park in the cramped Seattle parking garages than it would take to just walk to the store and forget the car.
Sunday afternoon Mike worked on attaching our entry bench to the wall with spacers and shims while I did a bunch of laundry, washed the dishes, and went to yoga class. I am loving the yoga studio a couple blocks away from the new apartment… it is so much fun and we get to work on some more advanced poses. I also love that the classes are 75 minutes instead of 60. Sometimes with 60 minute classes by the time you’re really warmed up, the class is already ending.
On my last wedding-related note of the day, apparently Mike and I aren’t the only ones who thought of 12/12/12! Who would have known so many people would have thought of that? I kind of thought I was creative in coming up with that date.