So, Saturday morning I wake up a couple minutes before my alarm, and I can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I was so excited, but also terribly nervous all at once... which is probably why I almost passed out in the shower. True story. I had a mild panic attack over it, but whatev, I was getting my wedding dress so it was going to take a little more than a touch of postural hypo tension to stop me from going to Kleinfeld's.
(Sidenote: Although I am always thankful to have StoveTop in my life, that morning was just one of those times when I would have been lost if she wasn't there. Have I ever mentioned that StoveTop is a top-notch hair stylist? Well she is, and if there is anything that can calm me down when I am all manic it's someone giving me an amazeball blowout. Back to the story...)
After all of us had finally pulled ourselves together (only running an hour late... shocking...) Mama came to pick us up, bearing gifts in the form of piping hot cinnamon rolls (some would argue too hot judging by the black bottoms, but we weren't complaining) and venti treats from Starbucks. At this point everything was going swimmingly, but of course, the universe just could not let my life continue on that smoothly...
Out of nowhere, it hit me.
You know that horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach where you think "I'm-going-to-be-sick- but-if-I-open-my-mouth-to-tell-anyone-I-am-for-sure-going-to-be-sick"? That one. I don't know if it was the nerves, the fact that I might be actually getting sick, or that my Spanx were too tight (or most likely a combination), but I felt like hell.... and I had 3 hours and 45 minutes left of a 4 hours drive. Eek!
Lucky for me, Mama knows me like the back of her own hand. She looks and me and says in her sweetest voice "Are you okay?" with a look on her face that says "Don't you dare think about puking in my car" which brought a tiny smile to my face. All the girls pitched in with their MD level advice: "take the velcro rollers out of your hair and press your face to the window", "take your Spanx off", "maybe you're allergic to your eyelash glue", "remember that SATC episode when Carrie got a rash from trying on wedding dresses"... I started to feel a little better after that, but I felt tons better when I saw I had missed a call from the one and only, Henry Roth, inviting the girls and I to lunch prior to my appointment. Two things here:
1. How fabulous is that? I used to think that there was nothing more glamorous than applying Chanel No. 5 at the Wynn (wearing one of their fabulous robes) before a VIP night on the Strip, but I was wrong. When a designer of Henry's caliber invites you to lunch... well... then you know what glam really is.
2. I wish that I could write in an Aussie accent because it is so amazingly cheerful, and I cannot help but smile every time he spoke. Seriously. I saved one of his voice mails for when I have a bad day.
I won't bore all of you with the details of us driving into the city because it really was not as eventful as I expected. We didn't really get lost or anything. I did get really excited when we passed through Jersey, but if you know me at all you'd have figured that. Parking wasn't that bad either, and we found our way to our lunch destination just fine.
We rounded the corner onto 20th, and there stood a very well dressed man in a fantastic one-of-a-kind suit. We had that awkward 10 seconds of "I-think-this-is-who-I'm-looking-for-but-I've-never-seen-you-before" before the screaming and giggling commenced (and didn't stop for another four hours).
I even brought Henry some homemade limoncello!
I think I'm going to cut this entry here only because the rest of the story is a whirlwind of laughs, tears and surprises. If I get going on it now this post will be twenty pages long! Buona notte!