Bet ya didn't see THIS coming!

This Saturday will definitely prove to be a very interesting day ... As you know, I've had a little trouble getting motivated to go look for wedding dresses. There's just that little thing about me already being married.

I've looked at dresses twice since I found my Florida dress last summer. The first time, I left after 5 minutes because I felt stupid and because the people at the shop were awful. I left frustrated. I felt like a washed-up beauty queen who refused to stop wearing her crown and sash.

So the second time, a friend from work came with me. That definitely made it better, but I think our tastes were a bit to different for it to really get me in the mood to keep going.

Well, May 23, 2009, is only getting closer. And considering that my weekends are going to be partially planned from June 19 through the end of September, that leaves me this weekend to really get moving.

There are two people in my life who I think are perfect to take wedding dress shopping with me. Both of these people have great taste, know my taste (and will take it into consideration), and have no problem telling me the truth if something I like isn't quite as great as I initially think it is. One of those people is CG. She's in Hawaii, which is a bit far to travel for a weekend of dress shopping.

The other? My mom. The thing is, though, while CG would be a bit gentler about telling me what I like isn't quite what it could be, my mom likes to overdramatize. Real-life example:

I'd just gotten my hair cut in high school. I'd decided to liven it up by throwing in a few layers. I had also cut off a good few inches. I'd cut off a few inches before, and I was all too familiar with the face my mom would give if I'd turned my back to her for a moment and looked back at her. She would always give me this disapproving face, like she couldn't believe I'd cut my gorgeous hair (whatever). Well, after the layered cut, the look managed to get even more sour.

"What? What!" I said to her.

Somehow, her face managed to sour even more. "Well ... it's just ... It looks like you were sitting in math class, and all through the class, the person behind you had a pair of scissors and slowly started snipping away at your hair, and you didn't know it."

See what I mean? Is that really necessary? I mean, I happened to like the layers.

I was torn about asking my mom to go dress shopping with me. Especially since I've only seen her once in the last year and a half. But I knew she'd be a good person to take with me as far as honest, good-taste opinions go. She knows my taste well enough to help me make such a decision. And I know my taste well enough to be able to overrule hers without worrying about upsetting her.

So I asked her to come. And she is.

Saturday morning, my mom is driving to my apartment. I can't even remember the last time she came here. Geez, K might not even have gone to Afghanistan yet. Crazy.

I made sure when I asked my mom to tell her that I didn't want her to make any faces and give dramatic explanations of why she didn't like a dress. I told her a simple no would do it if she didn't like it. As for the faces, she said, "Well, sometimes I have to study it a bit first."

"If you have to study it to decide you like it, then it's not the right dress," I said.

"You're probably right." (Duh!)

I told my mom about the two dresses I had fallen in love with before. As I described them, she said, "You don't need a strapless dress. Your shoulders are too broad."

There's one thing we're gonna disagree on ...

So please, after you've said your prayers for world peace and blessings for your loved ones, please say a (tiny bit superficial) prayer that I have the patience of a preschool teacher on Saturday.

And if that whole patience thing doesn't work out, hopefully I'll at least find a dress that does.