It is already the end of August. Usually marked with the begining of school: shopping, new pens and pencils (although A shoebox exists full of them under the bed, collected dust bunnies and other allergy inducers), cool nights, bright mornings, less daylight, and of course: classes.
However, this end-of-August-time doesn't carry with it the impending start of another college semester. It actually brings exactly what the-beginning-of-July brought. Work and then some. But...don't take me wrong, I am in love with my work! I don't see my job as work.
Work? No...well, depending on the weekend.
I am continuing to plan in the Wedding world. Meeting new brides and grooms, helping them smooth out details of their weddings. Mkae my personal suggestions on how the escort cards should be placed, or if it is important to have ushers before the processional.
And it works. It goes swimminlgy well.
I haven't had a problem!
Until this past weekend.
The cake. The cake dropped. YES. I take responsiblity for a five layer cake sliding off the cake table, seconds after the bride cut it to serve to her 209 guests. Yes, it dropped, in front of all those 209 guests.
I couldn't do anything except close my eyes and say "Make it go away, make it go away." It didn't go away. Minutes earlier my manager and i were chatting about he loveliness of the evening and the perfection of the time line and service. Spoke to soon, eh?
It turned out that the table legs weren't locked, so upon moving the table off the dance floor, the cake slid off unto the tablecloth. Only after that did we learn that the cake dropped at the bride's parents wedding. Fate! Blessing! Cakes falling are tidings of good news!
The bride was completely happy. She laughed at me and told me it was okay since she didn't like cake anyways. I didn't know what else to do except hug her and almost cry from joy. Joy because I had this irrational fear that I would be fired, kicked out in the rainy weekend's cold. But no. I press on and have learned-check those damn table legs.
Oh, yes. I am a Blonde now. For those that don't me, I have been a Brunette (or darker) for my entire life. Finding joy in seeing my auburn hair flash in the sun and relish in its ability to (on a very rare and good day) to resemble Zooey Deschenal's hair. However, early spring, I chopped off all of it. I regretted it the next week when i coudln't see it on my shoulder anylonger. So what better way to bite through the painful and awkward groing out stage then to bleach it all and get some highlights.
Three separate dye baths later and a weekend to California, I have come out a lovely and natural looking Blonde. Resembling my twin sister more than ever.
I don't think I have noticed any changes int eh way that people treat me. I meet so many new people every weekend at the wedding I coordinate that I can't tell if they are different people (which I know they are) or it is because of my Blonde-ness.
I need to create more often.
Regularity as a goal has been reached every so often. Need to be more regular about reaching regularity. Noted.