Forgive me audience, for I have sinned...it's been over a month since my last blog. I'd like to blame it on a much needed vacation to Bermuda or the Mediterranean but it actually wasn't anything to do with what I was seeing, but rather the problem with seeing.
Since about March I've been having trouble with my "near" vision. My eyes got all blurry when I tried to focus on tasks like reading and writing. Then my "distant" vision wouldn't clear right away (like it used to) and things that were once clear far away stayed fuzzy.
Since about the eighth grade I've had to wear glasses only for reading. I actually had to have bifocals. Now remember, this is back in 1983 or so, so picture BIG round dorky frames with very noticeable lines in the frame to denote that they were not only super uncool but also bifocals. I had to stop wearing them because my eyes could never adjust to the bifocal thing and I kept getting headaches. Plus I looked positively absolutely goofy...like poor Jan Brady.
When I was in college, I had a really cool preppy pair. But after my first pregnancy my vision corrected itself and for the past 19 years I've had perfect vision. Until now. So, now I have officially joined the ranks of eccentric cat ladies and librarians alike who wear bedazzled colorful spectacles that rest on the end of their noses and who peer up to look at you as if you are annoying them.
I really need to take that extra step and get a beaded cord so that I can walk around with my specs hanging from it like real respectable professionals do (ha...re'spec'table, that's funny.)
Any way, I couldn't really do any writing because my concentration was off because my focus was off.
Since my blogging was temporary on hold, I will attempt to catch you all up on what I have been up to this summer. Life at the bridal shop on Saturdays continued to be busy even though the bridal business (as a whole) is notoriously slow for June, July and August.
Precious Gloria and Michael graced us with their prescence one last time before tying the knot in July. And guess what? We're facebook friends now. You should see how the two lovebirds talk to each other online...all gooey and sweet, just like the man (aka cliffy g, aka my hubby) and me. No, not at all. When Gloria and Michael speak to each other the angels in heaven sing. When me and the man converse, crickets chirp.
I've learned more about how much I hate to be patient this summer. I worked with this one bride who came in to the shop to try on veils. She came in by herself (bad idea) so I had to be more involved in the selection process. Remember, my concentration and focus are off. Not to mention that I really didn't know much about veils except that they go on your head.
Although she was very plain to look at (as in mennonite-kind of plain), she came out of the dressing room in her gown and va-va-va-voom! Here this wall flower of a girl was transformed into a flowery, ruffley and sparkling little sex kitten. Ok, maybe not "sex" kitten, but she sure was not pious-looking either. She definitely chose a dress where form beat out function. And it was in bright, pure snow white...of course.
We started out fine, with her liking the first veil very much. And, since you can't just settle on the very first veil you try (silly), you have to keep trying on veils. One after the other. And then re-try some on again. And again. Before I knew it, I had about 15 different veils of all designs and lengths spread out all over the shoe table.
You have to understand something. I wasn't just working with a bride; I was literally becoming nauseated with the indesiveness of this pretty young thing who spoke with the tone and inflection of Snow White; the original 1930's Walt Disney version. I kid you not. I half expected to see birds and small wildlife gather around her as she started singing "Someday My Prince Will Come."
Her voice I could handle because it wasn't her fault that she sounded like a cartoon character. It was the repetitious "Gee, I don't know" that was workin' on my nerves. And she would do the Bashful dwarf motions as she said that line, blushing and stroking the veil like it was her own hair. Where's a poisoned apple when you need one?
You have to understand something else; I am not dainty...there isn't a soft dainty thing about me. I'm what you call "rough around the edges." Veils are dainty and require delicate handling. And, since I was neither, I knew this task was going to be fun, but not in the good sense of fun. Add the fact that I didn't really know what I was doing, and I was the fore-runner for the consultant with the most miserable appointment for the day.
It is well known that working with someone who is indecisive takes patience, with which I seem to struggle here. It's really ironic because as an RN (at my real job), I work with dementia patients and do fine. But when you are trying to help a customer who just can't seem to make a decision because 'gee, she doesn't know,' you start to get a little frustrated. Add to the mix the taking of pictures with the different veils on (using her camera phone with my poor vision) and you're well on your way to a migraine.
You see, there are a lot of decisions to be made in selecting a veil. There's the placement of the veil; more in front, in the middle, way at the back or down below on top of a bun. Then you also have to decide if you want a blusher or not. A blusher is the piece of material that goes over a bride's face and is lifted by the father who then kisses the bride and then flips the blusher over the back of the bride's head and hands the bride over to the groom.
Then you have to decide on the length; shoulder, elbow, cathedral. Do you want a finished hem? Do you want embroidered or scalloped edges? Do you want the name of your groom tattooed on the back of it? I can't really help you unless you put your big girl panties on and make some hard decisions.
About an hour and a half into this appointment with no ending in sight, I happened to catch Alyssa, one of the co-owners of the shop, out of the corner of my bloodshot right eye. I sent her morse code for S.O.S in the form of "Hey Alyssa, could you come here for a moment please?"
I didn't care that it was the middle of the summer; to me it was Martin Luther King Jr. Day. As soon as Alyssa stepped in, I stepped out singing (in my mind of course) "Free at last, free at last...thank God Almighty, I'm free at last!" Then I went and peed. Then I hid in the back until the store closed. No, just until I ate my lunch and gained my sanity back.
The bride left without making a decision, but did come back later that week with two friends who helped her decide on a veil. She picked a short, modest one trimmed in plain white thread. The trim had seperated from the veil netting in three different places (it was a floor model and got man-handled a lot), as one of her friends had pointed out to me. She then asked if the bride could buy it for 50% off the cost.
First of all, this is a bridal shop and not Saturday's market where you can name your own price. But in this case, the owner was happy to sell it but at a 35% discount. Satisfied with the deal, the bride left with the one veil that she did not try on during our venture into Sherwood's forest the Saturday before. At least I can't remember if she tried it on...my brain was fried and my eye sight not so good. However, it was the perfect veil since it was understated and didn't take away from her beautiful flowey gown. She was going to be a lovely bride for her prince.
So, if I were to gaze into my magic mirror right now to spy on my little Snow White, I bet I would see that she and her Prince Charming are living happily ever after (minus the dwarfs)...in the wonderful land of matrimony.
Me, well I'm just happy that I can SEE anything, thanks to my Prince Charming, the optometrist...he's 'spec'tacular.
The end.
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