cindy's world

We’ve been tackling the do-it-yourself wedding projects this week. We decided to forego the Garden’s table numbers and create our own. This is a small sample of what Mr. W designed from photographs he’d taken himself at the Garden (rest mouse pointers over photos):

All the table numbers were sent electronically to Costco for printing like photos, and retrieved (for FREE cuz Mr. W had free prints in his account) an hour later. No sweat!

We ran into a hitch yesterday when designing (or rather, attempting to design) the labels to attach to the wedding favors. We couldn’t get the templates to do what we wanted, couldn’t figure out a program that would give us what we needed to do, and printing them and cutting them were a nightmare. AND, they totally looked cheesy attached to the favors. So I made a rash decision to HANDWRITE on the edges of the favors with a permanent marker.
“<3 Cindy & Mr. W <3
August 31, 2008”
I did one as a sample. It looked okay. And we were desperate and tired, anyway. We were gonna start writing yesterday, but got lazy. LUCKILY. Cuz today, Anny saved the day! In discussing my dilemma, she IMed, “can u just print out on a small card for the table , some cute saying that they can take the [favors] home as their favors?” It…was BRILLIANT. We did it the same way as the table numbers, so it’s all in the same (easy) theme. I’d LOVE to post what the card looks like and says, as it came out beautifully with Mr. W’s mad photoshopping skills, but it’d ruin the surprise for my guests. So maybe next week. 😉 Thanks, Ann!

I feel slightly bad for the people who google for photos of steamy wet women in the shower and instead find their way here. Oh well. Enjoy anyway.

Courtesy Vanessa’s camera (rest mouse pointer on photos for captions):

At dinner, Restaurant 162′, Laguna Niguel Ritz Carlton

The waitress thought we were taking too long deciding on a dessert (actually, we were just chatting with the dessert menus open in front of us) so she took the liberty of just ordering the sampler for us. Everything was delicious. We each picked up a tiny spoon, and took a tiny scoop of whatever was in front of us, and then we turned the plate for the next one. Scoop, ROTATE! Scoop, ROTATE! I think Vicky called it out to keep the process orderly.

Lily said that the stripes on the nightie she got were strategically placed so that I don’t have to wear anything under.

The couples massage tutorials part of Vanessa’s present.

(No, not that kind of shower. No pictures of 10 wet girls.)

We had an amazing time at the bridal shower. Food was drop-dead delicious. Spa treatment was to die for. Friends around me made me feel like I DID die and go to heaven. As always, rest mouse pointer over photos for captions.

Lunch at 230 Forest Avenue Restaurant & Bar, patio seating:
From Anny’s camera

Anny’s so petite she makes my arm look huge. *sideglance*

From MOH Vicky’s camera

Dinner at the Ritz Carlton’s Restaurant 162′:

Vicky ordered a bottle of my favorite wine, Caymus Vineyard’s “Conundrum”. It was a hit.

Gee. Can you tell these girls were drinking?

I’d just like to point out that I’m not as red as Vicky is here from the wine. =)

Vanessa’s card said to be careful what you wish for on a blog cuz you just might get it…

Lily got me this swanky slinky strategically-placed alternating striped nightie. Mr. W loves it.

In addition to what’s pictured above, Vanessa’s gift collection included a couples massage how-to kit complete with photograph illustrative cards. Very Mr. W. Anny got me a gorgeous silky white chemise with a matching g-string, and a great black tanktop with bling on the front that says in fancy script “Mrs. [Mr. W’s last name], Est. [wedding date]”. Insanely cute. Vicky got me the entire event and dinner for everyone. I didn’t get my wish of finally getting all my bridal party together, tho…bridesmaid Sandy called me that morning in a panic saying she woke up and her right eye was swollen shut. Turned out when her physician father examined her later on in the morning that she had four spider bites on her eyelid. Eek! She stayed out of the public eye and sat at home icing it and taking antihistamines. Gym Trainee was a no-show to dinner and when I called her she didn’t pick up; turned out she somehow thought dinner was canceled. EH??? Oh well. We all had a blast, though. I think the chemistry at the tables were good, so it all worked out. Diana flew down for lunch and after our massage session at the Ritz, she and I hung out with Lily and Vanessa poolside at the Ritz as Vicky got her pedicure session, and then flew back home to NorCal before dinner. Even tho her visit was short, we all enjoyed her presence, especially the guy at the spa check-out counter, who asked me when I was checking out what Diana did for a living. He was surprised to find she’s not a bodybuilder or Olympic competitor by profession, because “that girl has the most well-toned body I’d ever seen in my LIFE!” he exclaimed. *high-five Diana*

I had a great time. It was classy, low-key, and PRIVATE. Thanks, Vicky! There are more photos on Vanessa‘s camera, if she emails them to me I’ll post them if she doesn’t.

Mr. W and I spent our evening at home assembling our patio furniture, until it got too dark to see. And then we took out his camping lanterns and finished assembling by flourescent lantern-light. We’re excited to see the finished products in the light of day. We expect to do quite a bit of entertaining in our pretty back yard, hence the outdoor dining table that seats 6, and the separate firepit conversation set that seats 4. Ideally, I’d also like a bar out there. But for now I can mix in the kitchen and pass it out through a window or the back sliding door.

Of course you can’t just get guests into the back yard without letting them walk through the house, so we put up as much wall stuff as we could. My giant oil paintings found homes in the living space walls and over the fireplace, his giant maps of Hawaii are the focus of the entire foyer along with his decorative antique-looking suitcases, globes and stone vases, and his framed medieval prints of knights and princesses and gilded gold framed mirror found their niches in the master bedroom. We were too tired to clean up the floors and vacuum, but the place is shaping up to look like a home now. The first guest to see this will be MOH Vicky, who’s gonna pick me up in the morning.

Speaking of morning, it’ll start with an 8:30a appointment at the city’s private Lake so we can take photos for our Lake privilege ID cards. After we get that in order, our visitors can accompany us to the Lake for summer concerts, annual events like July 4 fireworks, sand volleyball, picnics at the clubhouse, boating, swimming, fishing, bbqing.

After our membership appointment, Vicky will come to our new house for the first time, and we’re going to a bridal shower that she, with some assistance from bridesmaid Diana, put together for me at the fabulous Ritz-Carlton, Laguna Niguel. About 10 of my favorite girls are meeting up with us there for a spa day, lunch at trendy 230 Forest Avenue Restaurant and Bar, dinner at the very classy Restaurant 162′ (dinner is Vicky’s treat and gift to all attendees), or any combination thereof. Anny, having recently received her new digital camera, volunteered to be my paparazzi, so we can thank her for documenting photos later. I think there’ll be a walk down to the beach somewhere in there, so I’ll be sure to bring a bikini. =D Screw the fact that I’m getting bloated. This is my bridal shower, goshdarnit. This is also the first time that all three of my bridesmaids will be together at the same place at the same time. Diana has to do a one-day turnaround flight from San Jose, I’m very touched she’d do this for me, and expect nothing less for her and us than a truly classy, fabu-loso time.

And I have no idea what to wear.

But I DO know what I’m gonna wear for our upcoming Halloween party that Mr. W has agreed to let me throw when I uncovered all my Halloween season props and decor while moving.

Life is gonna be amazing.

I heard from all 3 of my bridesmaids today on the phone one after the other! That was pretty cool. Turned out that MOH Vicky and childhood friend Sandy both were at the bridesmaid dress fitting together and ran into each other there. College roommie Diana had her fitting yesterday. I had called all of them and warned them that the dresses may not fit correctly and to give themselves time to go in for adjustments and allow time for the dresses to be remade before having to schedule a second fitting.

When Mr. W’s daughter, my mom and I went for our fitting last weekend, I looked hideous in my dress (this is the Chinese qipao, not the white bridal gown). The thing hung on me, I had no figure in it, and my boobs disappeared. Even my mom kept saying that I look like I have no boobs and I’d have to figure out something with an appropriate backless bra. The dressmaker had to take in 2 inches on either side of my dress and redo darts under my boobs and down my back so that I could have a figure again. My mom’s dress was too big, too. She had to have about an inch taken in at either side, too. Daughter’s dress was misfitted at the top and it wrinkled and hung over when she bent, and it was way too tight at her hips, butt and thighs. So we’re all getting majorly adjusted and have a second fitting next weekend. The dressmaker said I lost a ton of weight, but really, I think all her measurements were way off. Daughter and my mom got measured less than a month prior so how could all THEIR measurements have changed that much? (Just for statistical purposes, I’m now at about 116.5 lbs, 21.5% body fat.)

Diana’s fitting yesterday went very well; everything fit pretty closely except for a minor adjustment with her upper torso area of the dress. She said if the dressmaker hadn’t insisted on perfecting the upper body fit, she would’ve been happy to have simply taken the dress home with her that day. I asked her what her boyfriend, who had gone with her as they were in town for her friend’s wedding, had thought about the dress. She held the phone to him as she asked him my question, and he said, “Smoking HOT!” I was delighted. No bridesmaids of mine are gonna look tacky if I could help it! I think if my girls look good, I look good. Who wants to stand up there on her big day with a bunch of losers? People judge you by your company. And I’m not about to look insecure or superficial.

Vicky’s fitting went okay; she said the body fit fine (good thing she dropped some pounds recently, or hers would’ve been too tight, too) and there were some logistical adjustments on the fit of her upper torso design. I’d meant to ask what her boyfriend thought of the dress but forgot.

Sandy’s fitting went something like ours. The lower body was fine, but she couldn’t zip up her upper body. I think the dressmaker screwed up Sandy’s dress measurements the way she seemed to have with mine, my mom’s and Daughter’s, which the dressmaker tried to cover for by criticizing Sandy. Apparently the old-fashioned Chinese dressmaker had mastered the typical 1st generation Chinese bluntness taking it to a level of rudeness, asking Sandy how she could’ve gained this much weight, that she started off with the smallest measurements in the group and ended up with the largest, that she (the dressmaker) has to take almost everybody’s dresses in but has to instead take Sandy’s dress out, that the largest downsizing was on me and the largest upsizing was on Sandy, and could she lose weight before the wedding? And then she said she’s gonna have to figure something out with the dress because she can’t let it out enough to cover the difference. Sandy told me when relaying this story that she knows she’s gained some weight recently, and now she’s bummed. She suggested trying my cabbage soup diet. Vicky said that Sandy had told her that she’d had pizza yesterday and so was probably not in the best physical shape. =/ Maybe the dressmaker can come up with something creative to give the dress some extra inches, such as make the back open or something, I don’t know. But Sandy’s next fitting is going to be in about 2 weeks. Eek!

Men are so lucky that they just have to button up a loose tuxedo or suit and can gain or lose 15 lbs with no visible difference in their attire.

Due to the 5.4 magnitude earthquake yesterday before lunchtime, our building was evacuated as the Sheriffs worked through lunch with shotgun rifles in hand to check the floors for leaks and damage. Apparently they didn’t want to take the chance that inmates in the building got worked up over the rumble. Our building’s on wheels, so the quake felt more dramatic than it actually was. We had a lunchtime meeting that was canceled because of the mandatory evacuation, so I went to the gym instead. Then I went home to check on Dodo. A bunch of my things, including all my bingo daubers, had fallen on the floor, but luckily nothing broke. Dodo was fine and normal. He did make strange whimpering sounds in the middle of the night, as if he were stuck in a nightmare. It took my calling him three times to wake him up. I wonder if he sensed the impending earthquake.

So our lunchtime meeting was postponed to today. It’s supposed to start in 2 minutes, so I’m borrowing a coworker’s internet access to post what I’d been doing during my lunchhour while waiting for the meeting to start:

There’s all the guests on little slips of paper, clustered into groups for tables, using the map of the Garden as a seating guide (center).

I had to step back and take a photo with my cameraphone cuz it looks like such a masterpiece. You guys have no idea the dynamics of people I had to take into account. That was fun, like working out one of those math equations like, “Tommy has 4 brothers and 2 sisters. One of his sisters has a female and a male friend. The male friend is 3 years older than Tommy’s youngest sibling, and Tommy has 3 siblings older than his sister’s female friend. Arrange them all in order by age keeping in mind that Tommy’s younger sister can not stand the oldest brother’s cologne and hence can’t stand next to him although the female friend likes the sister AND the cologne…”

(written yesterday, Jul 29, around 10:30p; I’m borrowing a coworker’s internet access to post)

I had a quick run-in with an old DA friend yesterday after work. He asked how the wedding planning’s coming along, and I said it was great, no stress yet. The male friend he was with mentioned how his own wife got a bit frazzled as they’d approached their wedding date, and how he used to tease her with, “What do YOU have to be stressed about? You have a wedding coordinator!” I gave my theory that women stress because they place too much importance on small details, like the color of flowers and the exact combination of the tiny factors that go into making this day, most of which tiny factors wouldn’t be noticed by any of the guests anyway and are likely overpriced.
My DA friend said, “Well you’ve always been kinda immune to stress.”
That was the best compliment I’d received in, like, forever. Of course, he was wrong, but I was VERY happy he saw me that way anyway.

And then this morning while coming to work I ran into that other attorney who obscurely complimented me last month. He said, “Hello, nice to see you again.” I said hi, and asked if he works here. He said, “No, I’m just here a lot.” Even tho I didn’t receive any further lavishing about my appearance, the last compliment hung invisibly in the air, and again contributed to starting my morning on the right foot.

I had just spent over 2 hours working on my wedding seating chart. I updated and printed out my attendee list, got back in touch with my kindergarten roots and cut out the names of people coming. Then I grouped these people according to a seating chart the Garden provided letting me know how many people can be seated at what table number (half the tables seat 4-5, the rest seat 6-8). I tried my best to move my little slips of guests around and put people together who either already know each other, or whom I know would get along. I paid special attention to requests to be seated next to so-and-so, and to requests to NOT be seated near so-and-so. (I know.) The next part is trickier. Following a map of the Garden layout telling me what table number goes where (reception dinner tables are scattered all over the garden around the pond, on the bridges, under trees, etc.), I ingeniously and strategically placed groups of people either close to or far away from each other. Joe Schmoe wants to avoid Jane Doe? Well, I seated them across the Garden from each other, separated by water. Too many people in the “coworkers” group to put together at one table? I put them in tables next to each other. Mandy Pandy desperately wants to avoid the disapproving glares from her mother? I placed Mandy Pandy at the south end and her mother at the north end on the same vertical line, so that the mother couldn’t look across the water and see Mandy Pandy. I was darn proud of myself.

And then came that awful dreaded moment. I ended up with 2 leftover groups of 4 with no seating. What the heck? I studied the seating chart, compared it to the Garden map, and then realized that the two totally don’t match up. There are some tables that the chart says seat 8 but the map says seat 5, and vice versa. And tables 27, 28 and 29 are completely MISSING from the map.

I guess I’ll be making some phone calls in the morning. Either the Garden is going to send me the correct map and/or chart, or I’ll be calling these guests and asking if they mind taking their dinners with them to their cars in the parking lot. Or MAYBE I’ll float 2 tables for 4 on the koi pond! Hmm…

Mr. W and I weren’t going to pick this one, as it looked very Catholic and I’m not Catholic, but the makeup lady really liked it and said my mom would, too, as it’s in a style popular when my mother got married, so we got it. Even Mr. W’s daughter wasn’t too thrilled with this one. I had to post it cuz it reminds me of one that Flat Coke & Flies posted of herself.

This one I did like. I think I just love, LOVE this ballerina dress! And the fresh flowers (plumeria and 2 pink baby rosebuds) in my hair ain’t half bad, either. I just kinda wish they’d kept my original left arm, tho.

My mom, grandma and I went to the photo studio yesterday to look at the engagement photos. To my surprise, the makeup lady (who apparently is also Photoshop Queen) had busted her rump to get our order done so that my mom could pick them up for us. All the larger photos had weatherproofing done on them, giving them a canvas effect, and were mounted on cardstock backing so that we don’t need to find glass-covered frames to put them up. When we got there, the makeup lady opened our package and laid out our photos on a large table for our inspection. The first thing my grandma said was, “NONE of these look like you! How come you look so thin?! Why is your face so long and narrow?”
My mom actually defended me with, “That was the way she looked the day they took the photos. The hairstyle is flattering on her.” And then she said happily, “HEY! Your arms don’t look big in these photos!”
The makeup lady aka Photoshop Queen said, “I’ve cut all those arms down for her in the computer.”
Then the three of us were seated in front of the large monitor as the makeup lady displayed all our photos for my mom and grandma, making note to tell them which ones we’d purchased and which ones we were letting go, giving my mom the option to buy some photos on her own if we didn’t select them. I didn’t select a lot of photos with just me in them, cuz I can’t justify making Mr. W pay half for photos that he isn’t even in. But my mom definitely wanted those. The women discussed how of COURSE the bride gets all these solo photos cuz the wedding is about the BRIDE; the GROOM is just the prop to accompany the bride in all these photos. The makeup lady said engagement/wedding photo session breakdowns are typically 1/3 solo bride photos. And then she added hesitatingly that sometimes a vain groom would fight for camera time with a bride. How funny.

So I asked her, “What DID you change on me? I can tell you altered the arms and you softened my skin and removed my bug bite scar on my shoulder.” The makeup lady opened up an unaltered file of me to do a side-by-side comparison, pointing out her changes. She redefined the jawline (I knew it! I knew I had more significant chipmunk cheeks!), softened the coloring on the face, took AWAY my tan, carved off the bicep, tricep and deltoid muscles on my upper arms, shaved off some forearm muscles (I got those from gripping heavy weights at the gym), and trimmed off my calf muscles! I’m cool with complexion repairs, but SERIOUSLY, how much time have I invested in making my body look a certain way, only to have it photoshopped OUT?! But of course my mom and the makeup lady were happy, talking about how all the customers leaving this studio are delighted with the effects. Obviously they don’t have a lot of Americanized gym rat customers.

(Arms, calf and hamstring shaved off in the above photo. To me it looks like I have the limbs of a quadriplegic. Not that there’s anything wrong with atrophied muscles, it’s just that I don’t have them.)

My grandma out of nowhere said, “Why do you have that on display? I think neither person in there is good-looking.”
I turned and saw her still sitting in front of the monitor with two of my solo photos on the screen. I thought she was implying shutting the monitor off, but then my mom asked her, “Ma, what are you talking about?”
And my grandma pointed to a giant sample portrait of a couple hanging on the wall. “They’re both ugly.”
My mom hit her mother on the shoulder lightly in embarrassed horror, as the makeup lady said awkwardly, “Well, only some people would allow us to use their photo as our sample, others who may look better may not want their photo on display in our store…”
Is this what happens in old age? Like, tact? Tact is for sissies who can’t handle the truth.

(My hands look HUGE in the photo above cuz they slimmed down my arms so dramatically.) This is the photo I’d written about before. My mom said I should’ve done the mouth open, hand on my cheek “ooh!” expression which she thought was really cute, but I DID do that and the photographer didn’t snap that.

My mom ordered 8 extra poses that we hadn’t ordered, and a couple of enlargements of her and the makeup lady’s favorite pose, the one I wrote about in which the makeup lady kept talking about the bust and waist proportions. She did that again this day, fluttering her mouse pointer around the bust and waist and the arc in the back.

(You can ALMOST see the shadowing around my shoulder created by deltoid, but WHERE’S the deltoid?! Where’s the tricep?)

When we got back to our neck of the woods, we called my dad to join us for lunch. He did, and we handed him the envelope of developed photos. My dad knows me so well. He took one look and said, “Hey, they cut out all your muscles!”
“I know,” I wailed, “And I worked so hard for those muscles!”
He chuckled. Then looking more closely at the other photos, he said, “They made you look like a movie star, but you look like a Japanimation cartoon, all white with skinny stringy limbs.”
“I know!” I wailed again.

I totally understand old or fat people loving this type of photoshopping, but I’m not sure I’m a fan. Maybe it’ll grow on me. I’m just not the ultra-femme type. When I brought the photos to Mr. W, pointing out where the editing was done, he (a fan of healthy toned women) exclaimed, “What makes her think she can take this type of liberty with other people’s photos?!” I explained that it’s the cultural and generational difference in perception of beauty. Well, there’s always the wedding day photos that have a chance of looking like me.

You can compare what I actually look like with the (crappy) photos I took of myself yesterday morning.