My Earlobes Still Feel Fat

So I've been engaged for what feels like five minutes (I know, it's actually been a month, but I still refuse to believe I need to finish planning this budget-friendly wedding in the extremely budget-unfriendly Napa Valley in the next couple of months), and it will come as no surprise at all to most of you that my anxiety levels are riding high.  Not only am I in full-on panic mode about my guy's visa, and trying to keep a level head about planning this wedding spectacle from 5000 miles away, but tomorrow is my first dress trying-on day and I'm kind of freaking out. From what I understand ( from too many Say Yes to the Dress marathons ), wedding sizing is different from 'normal' clothing sizing – specifically, in a move that can only be motivated to make already-stressed brides-to-be feel even more anxious, wedding gowns are apparently made two sizes smaller than normal dresses.  So if you're a size 12 at Nordstrom, you'd be a 16 at Kleinfeld.  What. ...

 If you follow me on Twitter , you'll already know how obsessed I've been recently with a show called Say Yes to the Dress, which is a reality show that follows brides-to-be who are looking for the perfect dress at Kleinfeld's bridal salon in NYC.  I got into the show when I was living with my parents in San Francisco a few years ago, and spending a lot of my free time Tivo-ing reruns of What Not to Wear and other TLC shows (like I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant – NOT recommended for anyone even slightly suggestible).  I'm already a bit dress-obsessed, in general, and I have a weakness for reality TV (the NYTimes says that's okay!), so one episode was all it took to hook me.  I love seeing the different styles of dresses, comparing how they look on different body types, gasping at the incredibly poor taste some brides have and the stunning dresses others choose.  I love tearing up when the dads start to cry and yelling at the entourages when they opine too strongl...

My best friend is getting married on Sunday, and I've been having serious anxiety about being the fattest person at the wedding.  I guess I've been yammering about how I look a lot, because yesterday I was nattering on about how if my roots are dyed and my brows are waxed then maybe I won't mind being such a tub of lard, and my mom looked over at me with a raised eyebrow and went "Boy, you've still got issues, huh?" Is it rude to shout DUH in the face of one's elders?  Well, I just laughed and said "What was your first clue?"  Then told her I'd be entering therapy as soon as I can afford it (so basically never). Oh well, I guess it's good to know she's finally noticed...