Four years ago today...
I head off for my 9 a.m. hair appointment. One hour, 30 hot rollers and 80 hairpins later, my shoulder-length hair is transformed into a lovely array of curls piled on the back of my head. But alas, I now must drive back to the apartment in my headpiece and veil. Why didn't I drag Mom along? Okay, I must be sitting on my veil, because I can't turn my head to check for oncoming traffic. Grr. Okay, through that intersection. Gosh, people are honking and waving as they pass me...

Mom is still pressing her dress when I get back. I'm feeling stir crazy. I haven't packed for the honeymoon yet. Where is that list of phone numbers I gathered for my sis-in-law? Where is the knife and cake server? My engagement ring is dirty! Ack! Ack! Ack!

Mom heads off to collect my sister and niece from a friend's house. Dad helps me load my gown and other items into the car. I expect his usual softie side to come pouring out on the drive into the city, but no, he is clinging to the car's hand grip in white-knuckled terror. "Do you have to drive so fast?" he asks. I'm going 40 mph. Dad hates the city.

Since I'm stuck in the veil, I have to hide from Joel all morning. My matron of honor acts as my spy. When the coast is clear, I head downstairs to dress. I really wanted to help set things up, but friends and relatives shoo me away.

I'm trying to write a check for the caterer with wet nails when the photographer arrives. She snaps a shot of me in this crazy position.

We go up to the sanctuary to start taking photos. When I appear, my friends who make up a little vocal ensemble stop their practice to whistle and hoot. "It's Elizabeth Bennett! No! Emma Woodhouse!" I smile and blush. I do feel just like an Austen heroine in my tafetta, satin and lace, fashioned after an 1809 dress pattern.

I can't wait to see Joel.