Tulle, 4: Me, 1

Well, it turns out that shorter veils are my style, but just not with this dress. I made and tried on three veils last night, and I liked them all. I just didn't like them when I got my dress home today, put it on, and tried each veil in turn. Luckily, the last thing I made last night was a fascinator--which is kind of like a brooch for the hair. To make mine, I picked up a large toupee clip, made a webbing in between its two bars out of tulle strips, then started sewing and gluing items to it. First I made a puffy circle out of French netting, and sewed that on. Then, in back of the netting, I glued a halo of white feathers. One one side of the fascinator, I attached 3 coq feathers so symmetry wouldn't render my fascinator less so. Then I made some loop bunches out of ostrich feather and when I had seven bunches, I glued them in a circle on top of the netting. Then in the center, I sewed on a few pearls and crystal beads, and glued on two antique mother of pearl buttons. To top it off, I glued on a pewter bee. Sounds like a hot mess, doesn't it? But it's not; it's the perfect finishing touch to my wedding outfit. I have done it! I have shunned the veil.

Tulle 1. Me, 0.

OK, today I constructed a two-layer, waist-length bridal veil with a rolled hem. I gathered it nicely and tacked it to a comb. Then I put it on. I've read that a woman doesn't feel like a bride until she puts on her veil. Well, I didn't feel like a bride. I felt like a big ol' fraud. Also like a big billowy fog monster. It turns out traditional bridal veils are Not My Thing. I guess I'm just too much of a tomboy, even now. So, it's back to the drawing board. Tomorrow I'll construct birdcage-style veils: one out of regular bridal illusion netting and another using French netting and some beads and feathers and whatnot. If the birdcage veil experiment fails, then I'll simply go veil-free.

Another thing: our photographer called today and said she'd broken her foot surfing and so could not shoot our wedding. However, she lined up one of the best photographers in San Francisco to cover for her, so we're not too troubled despite having really looked forward to having her do the shooting. Anyway, I'm hoping to talk with the sub photog soon.

Lastly: I found someone to give my wedding gown to after I'm done with it. I can't see keeping it, since having a daughter is pretty unlikely for me, and even if I were to have a daughter, if she were a daughter of mine she'd be horrified at having to figure out how to tell her dotty old mom that she won't be wearing her old yellowed gown at her wedding. On top of that, we have no storage for big bulky pieces of clothing we'll never wear again. So I'll be giving my gown away. The woman I offered it to is so thrilled that she pledged to pass it along after her own wedding. This makes me smile every time I think about it.

Veiling the issue

I have to admit: I fear the tulle. I've had all the makings of two kinds of bridal veils in this house for more than a month. And yet, I tackle every other job first. I've made the goodie bags for the out-of-towners. I've assembled my half of the. I've tinkered with jewelry components. I've glanced apprehensively at my cut-out and basted veil tulle. Feh. I've got to start on it. It's a two-layer, elbow-length veil with satin-cord edging. In case I don't like it, I also bought some French netting and some cool feathers to make a birdcage-style veil. It's this weekend or nothing, because whatever's not done after the end of the day Monday will have to remain undone. Unless, of course, I forget something critical. But if I haven't made a veil by then, then veil-free I will be on wedding day.

Details

Today was program-cover day. I made the template for the covers yesterday, copying a passport cover, adding an inside pocket, and elongating it to 11" vertical. It's basically the size of half an 8.5x11" sheet bifolded vertically. Then I traced the template onto 15 sheets of brown card stock, four up on a page. Today I cut them out and scored all the fold lines, and tomorrow I'll glue up the inside pockets and round the corners on each. Then I'll proof the program pages (editorial and format), print them out, cut them, hole-punch them and attach them to the cover. Last step: print out driving and parking directions (wedding to reception) and slip them into the pockets. Then it's on to making my veil. On Wednesday after I take my dress back to the tailor, I'll pick up the table map from the restaurant and work on the seating chart and table rosters. I've been making up our iPod song list over the last couple of weeks and we'll get that final in the next week, also. I was down with food poisoning the last couple of days, which slowed my progress considerably. But I woke up today feeling healthy (just in time for our annual Super Bowl bash), so I need to rev back into high gear. Can't let momentum lag, because I have the rest of life (which includes fiction writing) to attend to as well.

Oh, Lordy. Almost there.

There are twenty-two days to go, and I was really stressed out this week. But tonight we went to our restaurant reception site and had dinner and picked our menu and somehow that just made me relax. The manager brought us various wines to try and I think it added up to seven full glasses. We got a little tipsy and were happy we were within walking distance of home. The restaurant setup precludes escort cards for each guest, so yahoo, one less project to do. This, too, helps with my peace of mind. I've finished beading my wrap. I still have to make my veil. I'm making my veil because I'm too damned stubborn to pay $100 or more retail for $7 worth of netting and a 25-cent comb. I have netting, I have combs, I have satin cording and I even have some crystal beads. So after this weekend perhaps I will have my veil. If not, then certainly by the end of the coming week. I do believe I'll have some time in which to tuck in some fiction writing.

1 month, minus 1 day. And counting.

Last night as I settled in to go to sleep, it occurred to me that I had fewer than 30 days to get everything done for the wedding. Actually, as I'd like to have 90% of it done by the week before the wedding, I have much less time. With that, my mind yawned, stretched, and started working. Soon I had to get up, because it was clear I wasn't going to get any sleeping done for a while. I went back to bed around 2:30. Bleah. I hate anxiety-induced insomnia. One other thing that's caused anxiety is our lack of ability to invite everyone we'd really like to have there. It's a little sticky, because if I talk about the wedding without their having received an invitation, the subject just sits there between us, silent and petulant, and it doesn't matter if I say we're keeping it small. Small or not, no invite is no invite. Damn. It doesn't mean I don't love these friends, it just means we can't stuff them in--and if we could, we wouldn't be able to afford to feed them. (*sending up my zillionth silent question about why I wasn't born into untold wealth*) I wish I could send out old-fashioned wedding announcements after the fact, but I've read on countless boards that those are currently considered blatant bids for gifts. Horrors. Sigh. Anyway, back to Anxiety-Provoking Topic Number 1: the sand flowing from the top chamber of the hourglass to the bottom. Here's what I still have to do:
- Nail down a rehearsal dinner spot and send invitations. Will probably have to be eVites.
- Make my bridal veil
- Finish beading my bridal shawl
- Select organza for my sister's shawl and take it to my tailor
- Embroider the names of my single friends into the hem of my dress, then
- Take my dress back to the tailor for another fitting, because I've lost some inches (weight workouts finally kicking in!)
- Meet with our reception venue manager to determine menu. This will be fun. The Hunky Scientist and I will make a dinner date of it.
- During above-mentioned menu selection, find out whether restaurant has microphone to go with its nice sound system. If so, sigh contentedly.
- If not, book a microphone and all needed accompanying gadgetry, so we can have toasts at our reception and my brother can read the poem he's writing just for us. If can't book, plan for hollering.
- Get hair cut and colored
- Make escort cards and holder
- Make table numbers and holders
- Make playlist for sound system
- Do day-before and day-of mapping and determine who's helping set up and take down reception.
- Confirm with wedding-night suite, photographer, florist
- Oh yeah: order flowers (we're not using many)
- Clean up Wedding Planning Central (meaning, get the whole house cleaned up, including the disastrous basement level)

Yes, Mr. Future Husband is helping with all this. Still, it seems Herculean.

Wonderful visit

Friend Lisa came over today and we got some wonderful one-on-one time. We had tea and snacks, and then she cast a critical eye on my wedding gown and noted that my recent weight loss (thank you, Mr. Trainer Guy) meant I'd have to shlepp it back to my tailor. We decided the back needed a bit of work, and that adding a halter strap to the bodice would make the dress that much more fetching. We also figured out the veil dilemma, so now I have a good idea of what I'm going to make. This was important, as I'm going to the hairdresser on Friday for a trial run. I still have to figure out the flower thing. Next week I'll go investigate a flower farm in East Palo Alto and see what their selection is and if their pricing meets my requirements. Only a little more than a month to go, and still a lot of things to do. But I'm confident I'll be able to sort it all out. Anyway, it was hugely satisfying to have some girl time with my friend and also to get the sisterly bridal-wardrobe advice I'd been craving. It helped me feel better about the whole ensemble.

Paperwork. Check!

We went to lunch today at a nice Japanese place near where I work, then zipped over to the county clerk's office and got our marriage license. That took 15 minutes with a bored and joyless county employee. We signed, payed, and practically sprinted out of there, giggling all the way. Then we went to the church and signed the affidavit for the admin to send to the diocese for our eccliasiastic marriage license. So, the paperwork is all done. Yay!

On to the next challenge

Invitations are largely out of the way. Batch 2 stands ready to be released into the postal river on Monday or Tuesday. There are some folks we'd love to be able to invite, but it depends wholly on how the RSVPs fall. Conversely, I'm bummed about some that've come back declines. I do understand the reasons, but still. Waa. I wish I had unlimited funds so that I could (a) afford a bigger venue, and (b) afford to fly out the friends and relatives who are unable to attend due to distance, finances, or both. The first round of final RSVPs are due 1/10; the next are due on 1/24. We're hoping to have almost all answers in well before that, so we can advise the chef at our reception site. The next challenge: My attire. I started beading my white organza wedding shawl today. Naturally, this makes me want to go get silver thread and embroider the whole thing. As there are only 50-some days left before our nuptials, this is not going to happen. I have some beading to do on the dress as well, and a veil or other headpiece to make. And some jewelry. With any luck, the veil thing will be done within the next week. They're easy to put together; I just have to settle on what silhouette I want: sophisticated birdcage blusher? nonchalant femme fatale sweep of tulle? Or regular ol' bridal veil? We shall see. I have to wait for the future hubberoonie to get out of the house so I can put on my dress and play with the veiling material.

Got the first RSVPs today!

And all three say "Accepts with pleasure." Yahoo! Somehow this makes the whole thing seem even more real.

Photos from the invitation assembly line

Cutting the gold-foil paper wrappers was really the midway point in the whole invitation odyssey. It all started with getting them designed. That was a breeze. I went to Wayne's house for lunch and we talked about colors and images. He found out callas are my favorite flower and that green was likely to be employed in our color scheme and came up with a beautiful design. Once we had the design finalized, I started inquiring with printers. I love the look of letterpress, but it turns out that method isn't great if you have a lot of reversed-out areas to be printed. And we do. Offset was the next line of inquiry, but offset printers hate brides to be, particularly the wenches who aren't footing the bill for a huge wedding. Small print runs give printers fits. I got a print quote of nearly $800 to do a total 100 invitations. Um, no. Finally I turned to the idea of a digital printer and away we went. I got 100 each of 5 elements for $150 plus tax. Actually they gave me 200 invitations and 200 at-home cards, so that meant an even lower cost per piece. Woo! Here's the complete set:



Then I printed and cut the invitation name cards, mounted them onto moss-green card stock, cut 80 strips of brown ribbon and 80 business-card holders from brown card stock. These would hold the at-home cards, which I was afraid would get lost in the envelope. They're my second favorite part of the whole suite, so I didn't want them to not be seen. At-home cards are very old-fashioned. I'm using them so people will know I won't be changing my last name after we're married. But their original purpose was to alert the populace as to the newlyweds' new home address. Here's the template I made for cutting the card slits.



We also had to return-address all the external and RSVP envelopes using our handy new embosser. My dear one volunteered for that job. Here's a photo of him leaning into the project. No face. Yet. He's shy.



Here is a finished, wrapped invitation, ready to go into its envelope:



Bubbly in the flutes and Frank Sinatra on our speaker-connected iPod helped the time go by:

Signed up for the marriage license

I went online to find out about marriage licenses, and found out that San Francisco charges $86 but San Mateo asks for $76. The cost difference and the fact that Redwood City downtown is now a really nice place to go meant that San Mateo county gets our money. Bonus: I completed the application online. We'll go down on Jan. 7, two days after my birthday, pick up the hard copy, and add it to the stack of Things That Must Be Taken To The Church On The Big Day (that means it'll also go into the stack of things that after our wedding I'm going to have dreams about having forgotten. "You're not really married" dreams, kind of like after I graduated college and dreamt that I'd never completed stats nor my senior project). I'm starting to get phone calls from folks who've received their wedding invitations already. Yay for speedy postal folks! If you're reading this and you are reasonably certain you'll be invited (meaning you're family or a close friend--sorry but we have really limited space) and you haven't gotten an invitation yet, it means your postal carrier will be along with it presently, or that it'll come in the second round. Which I'm now assembling on our dining room table.

Invitations, Round I

I spent all day working on wedding invitations. First thing this morning I was off to the post office with a mocked-up invite to see what total postage would be. "Fifty-eight cents" was the answer. So I purchased 80 of the 58-cent heart stamps and 80 of the standard 41-cent heart stamps. I think it'd be dandy if the post office had heart stamps with an anatomical drawing of a heart. I'd use that for wedding invitations in a hot second. But alas, they had only frilly heart stamps, so those are the ones I bought. Then it was home to start in Round 1, the 30+ invitations we'll send to those we are pretty sure won't be able to make it, but whom we couldn't imagine not inviting, plus some folks we're sure will say yes. Their RSVP date is Jan. 10. Round 2 will go out on Jan. 11 or 12 after some follow-up phone calls to the inevitable non-responders. The invitation line work started with self-addressing and stamping the RSVP envelopes, and addressing the exterior envelopes. Return addresses were handled last night, when Bob used our embosser on all envelope back flaps. He has better handwriting, so he got to wield the gold pen for today's effort. While he did that, I assembled the invitations, reception cards, at-home cards in their holders, RSVP cards and RSVP envelopes into neat little stacks, wrapped them with 4" widths of gold-foil tissue and secured that with double-stick tape, wrapped brown satin ribbon around the tissue and secured that with more sturdy double-stick tape, then attached the name tags that coordinated with those on the external envelopes. I'm too tired to upload the photos we took of the big operation. I'll upload them tomorrow when I finish this roundup of wedding-invite production notes. Tomorrow morning I'll take this first batch to the post office and have them hand-cancelled, or swipe their stamp and cancel them myself. Then they will swim free in the postal stream. I pray that the Jan. 1 postal shutdown won't delay them too much. Once I'd finished today's work and cleaned up the dining room table, I calculated my per-invitation cost. Less than $3 per completed envelope, including postage, or less than $250 for 80 total invitations. Not shabby.

My dear future husband and I did manage to swing by the gym today for another aerobic workout. I did not feel up to it, being as I had a simmering headache and whomping cramps. But 45 minutes and 300 expended calories later, I felt a bit better. Bob whipped up a big pot of soup when we got back, and that helped even more. Now I'm mightily fatigued. Time for sleep.

Eeek! Two months to go!

There are only two full months left before (dun-DUN-dun-dun...) wedding day. This boggles me for several reasons, a few of which I'll list:
A) Two. Months. That's, like, a minute in wedding-prep time.
B) We have to have wedding invitations into the mail in 3 day's time. Make that two days' time, since I'm posting in the wee hours of Dec. 26. And while the invitations have been printed, they have not yet been assembled. This will happen in the next two days. Full assembly rundown, plus photos, coming forthwith.
C) There's still a lot I feel like I haven't figured out. We're having to DIY a lot, since we're paying for this whole shindig ourselves and we're trying not to go into crippling debt doing it. The budget is tight. This means no hiring of day-of wedding coordinators; no hiring of limos/vans/drivers; no any of the things that make day-of logistics a lot easier to figure out. So I need to just sit down and diagram out everything and then attach a timeline. This will make me a lot less nervous about if or how things will run smoothly on Feb. 24.
D) My nails keep ripping and my cuticles snagging. This makes me feel very tomboyish and un-bride-like. Please, fingernails and cuticles, can you please become ladylike and perfect by wedding day? You can resume being tomboyish on Feb. 25.
E) I can't think of a "E" item right now, because I am tired. See time of post.

I did pick up my dress last week, plus the shawl and the beads I want to sparkle one or the both of them up with. I haven't decided if I'm going to tart my dress up a little, or just leave it plain. I'd better decide very soon. See first sentence of post. Also I must make my headpiece or veil or whatever I'll be wearing over my hair. And I have to schedule a hair trial, so I won't have either limp locks or the rat's nest that my own styling attempts nearly always result in. Doing my own makeup is about as adventurous as I want to get with the wedding-day beauty thing. For hair, I'll need to bring in a professional. This is possible because we decided to use iTunes for our music instead of hiring a band. I am so sorry, all you live musicians out there. We just can't afford you for this event. While I realize this does not help put mac-n-cheese on your tables now, we promise to hire some of you for an anniversary sometime.

I had a dream the other morning that I was taking four weeks' vacation, to sleep. All I'd be doing on this vacation was napping, then snacking, then napping some more. Napping in various locations, outdoors and indoors, reading a little, then more napping. In my dream, after four weeks of napping life was great again, and I was raring to go for the wedding, for my career, for the rest of my life, for everything. Then I woke up and thought about the dream for a moment, and remembered I was taking all three weeks of my allotted vacation time for our wedding. One week before, and two weeks after. So I redoubled my determination to have all my planning and prep done by the week before our wedding day (Lord, help me) and made myself a promise that our honeymoon, in addition to being fun, adventuresome, loving and full, will also feature plenty of time for catnapping and regeneration.

It's a wedding, not a circus

During the odyssey that has been planning my wedding, I have noticed a similarity among most weddings I've heard or read about others planning: They're all about entertaining the guests. Now don't get me wrong; I'd hardly want guests at our wedding to be bored. It's just that it never occurred to me to organize a pre-wedding scavenger hunt, rent a photo booth for the reception, put together a self-serve bar of cookies or candies or whatever, and have games at each table. Heck, we're not even having dancing at our reception. We just want to sit down with our guests to a really nice dinner, to mark the occasion of our joining our lives. Call me cranky. Just don't call me a circus producer.

Invitations are done!

Our friend Wayne designed our wedding invitations, and today I picked them up from the printer. They're gorgeous! Next step: head over to Flax to select envelopes. I'll need three: the outer envelope (size A8 in cream), the inner envelope (size A7 in green), and the RSVP envelope (size A6 in cream). We only need 100 invitations. My initial print quote was $780 and I nearly fell over when I got it. But I regrouped and e-mailed a contact down in Santa Clara, at Cyber Press, and he gave me a fantastic deal. For the inner components (invitation, RSVP cards--we're doing two with separate dates--reception card, and at-home card), the cost was a little over $1 a set. Add perhaps 90 cents for the envelope and that's still less than $2 each for beautiful, custom-made invitations. I'm thrilled.
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In other news, my dress is really almost nearly done. The only fitting left is the final one, to see if the hem is the right length. My tailor should also have the bustle in by then, and I'll be able to bring the fluffy snow monster home. I need to embroider the names of my single girlfriends and relatives into the hem. And I think I'll do a bit of beading on it. Having the dress at home will allow me to construct the headpiece and see if it works with the gown's silhouette. There are a ton of little details still to work out. But I'm happy with progress so far. Most days, at least.

Me? Judgmental?? Well...erm...yes.

Despite the fact that I've found my wedding dress (second fitting was today), I still troll Craigslist to see who's selling their used gowns. Some of the same ones have been showing up for months now. There are the $100 or $200 stunners that have been stored in closets since 1978 and are in perfect condition, except for the ghastly mutton-chop sleeves and huge butt bows. Then there are the cheap resales of cheap David's Bridal meringues. Yeesh. And then there are the real doozies: the $4,000 "incredible steals" from women who paid $6,000 for their dresses new and are offering to "throw in" a veil or clutch or ring pillow or newborn cousin if you'll just help them recoup some cash. All I can say is: if you paid $6,000 for a wedding dress, you're a fool. And if you'll pay $4,000 for a used wedding dress and think you've landed a bargain, you're an even bigger fool. I don't care how much money you have; spending thousands of dollars on a dress is obscene. There are families in countries you've never been to who could live for three years or more on the kind of money you're considering throwing away on a garment you're going to wear for maybe six hours. Get a damn grip. End of rant.

Dress news

I went to my first dress fitting on Monday. It's been months since I saw the dress, and as I slipped it on and stood in front of the mirror, I was struck by its utter simplicity. There's not a sequin, bead, pearl or piece of lace on it. The tailor is going to put a corset in to replace the zipper that closes the back. And she'll make me something in organza to cover my shoulders. She needed to take the dress in about four inches, so tomorrow I go for my second fitting. If the fit is right, we'll mark the hem. I should be able to pick it up a week later. Then I'll go to work embellishing my blank slate in whatever way I wish. I haven't figured out what I want to do yet, beyond embroidering the names of my single women friends into the inside hem. In other news, next week I go for a makeup lesson from a pro. I don't want someone coming to fuss over my face the day of the wedding. I know a lot of women go for this, but the idea makes me nervous. I want someone to do my hair (and my sisters'), and I want to do our makeup. Stacey the makeup pro will show me how.

Vexing, Perplexing and Sweet

I'm tackling the room-block part of wedding planning. For some reason, I expected this part to be easy. I'd read it was a snap: Call hotels, ask them for a number of rooms to be set aside for the weekend of your wedding, sign the papers they send (for some reason, they all want to send papers), and wah-LAH (like my French?), you'll have rooms at nice (or at least nice-ish) rates for your guests. Turns out I'm having to deal with all sorts of strange bureaucratic weirdness. Nobody seems to want to sent aside time to show me rooms (I'm also looking for a wedding-night suite). They just want me to show up, which makes my antennae quiver mightily as I can see myself hearing the line "That room is booked, so we can't show it to you" repeated endlessly. And one place told me I had to guarantee that half the rooms I asked for would, in fact, be reserved, occupied and paid for by my guests, implying I would be liable if that didn't happen. I sent an email back asking if they would agree to simply release any unreserved rooms back into the general reservation pool 30 days before my weekend, like all the other nice hoteliers do. We'll see what he says.
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Before my sweetie and I met, I'd pretty much gotten over the idea that one day I'd be married. I figured I'd be the single, world-traveling auntie who'd never know the inside of a bridal gown. So the idea of having a bridal shower was even more remote a musing for me. I've only attended one bridal shower, and that was when I was 22. I don't even remember what happened. But my dear friend Donna and my godmother Helen are getting together to throw me a shower in mid-January, so party time approaches. At first I was perplexed. Apparently, a theme is called for in these things. A theme like "linens" or "kitchen" or (eep!) "lingerie." (I chose "kitchen.") The reason a theme is needed is that people expect to bring you gifts (why gifts need to follow a theme is another puzzlement that I think is just a woman thing I didn't get training in). The gift thing is weird when you're in your mid-40s and don't need much. I registered, but kept it on the small side, and emphasized with both hostesses that what I'd really love is for people to bring family recipes so I can make a cookbook. I'm hoping that's what people do--and I plan to bring my digital camera so I can get their photo to go with their recipe.

Besides hanging out with my favorite people, it looks like I'm going to get one of my best-loved treats. Donna said cake was called for, and asked for my favorite kind. I said "cream puffs!" And she said "Well, you can't have 'Congratulations April and Bob' written on cream puffs, but if that's what you want, that's what we'll get." So now I'm looking forward to this shower thing like an addict looks forward to a hit. Doesn't matter what else is going to happen, I'm going to get my Beard Papa fix--something that hasn't happened in months. Donna said they'll likely have games, just to get my goat, but that they won't humiliate me too much. I don't care what they do to me; they can make me construct a bridal gown out of damn toilet paper if the want. I'll have choux pastry and vanilla custard waiting for me on a sideboard, and a big smile on my face.

Postbox in the lobby: Full

We addressed our save-the-date cards today, stamped them, and chucked them into the mailbox in the lobby of our building. It's not easy trying to figure out how to skim an invitation list when it's 125 people long and our reception venue holds 80. Guess we'll have to do what so many others do and wait til we get regrets to send other invitations out. Which feels like hell. But I guess if that's our only worry right now, then we're doing pretty good.
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I keep getting a head of steam up to do wedding stuff (making various styles of shoulder coverings and headpieces, for instance), and then my motivation just deserts me. Not because I don't want to be married (I'm thrilled to be getting married) but because sometimes I really want to be able to call my mother or father and share everything with them, and there's nobody to call. And that idles my hands. The other morning, just as I was in that zone between sleeping and wakefulness, I dreamt I was on the phone with my mom, and we were having a conversation about all the things that had been going on since she died. I told her about being engaged and how we have plans for a nice but low-key wedding and reception, and we were just chatting away and laughing about how zany it is that I'm actually, finally, getting married. But then I started telling her about what I'm going to be for Hallowe'en, and the line went dead. I remember thinking "I wonder how come she hung up? Guess she's not all that interested in Hallowe'en." And then I woke up.
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For Hallowe'en, I'm going to be Cruella De Vil. I'm going to sew a huge white fake-fur coat, and line it with dalmation-print fabric. I'm also going to make an evil little purse out of fake fox tail. I have a white wig I'm going to dye half-black. I have red elbow-length gloves and a cigarette holder and red shoes. Tomorrow I'm going to begin drawing the pattern for the coat, and while I cut it out I'll begin thinking about makeup. On Hallowe'en, whenever anyone asks me how I'm doing, I'm going to say "Miserable, darling, as usual. Perfectly wretched."