3,2,1...

At 4:15 pm on Monday my boss kicked me out of my office. She said it was time to step away from the computer and get married. So I did. And now work is just a distant memory.

And so here I am in New York, staying with my parents and brother until the big day. Tensions are running high and I slightly wish I were back at work. It’s 3 days before the wedding and my mother just stormed out of the house on a mad dash to tailor’s. She doesn’t like the way her dress looks. Nothing like last minute, impulse alterations!

I went for my last fitting at Vera Wang yesterday. Everything was perfect except for a minor incident in which the fitter cut me with a zipper. There was a little blood, but really it was no big deal. It’s my bridal badge of honor.

A few months ago I imagined that I’d be completely calm the week before my wedding. I assumed everything would be done and there’d be nothing to stress over. Turns out, last minute tasks fall out of the sky!

While discussing the final chapter for this blog, my fellow bride to be MRB and I decided an announcement in the New York Times would in no way be the perfect ending. In fact, not being in the Times would provide the perfect opportunity for so many additional well-researched articles:
How my non-famous parents kept me out of the Times
Westchester brides are boring
Ivy League means nothing
In the era of diversity, two Jews can’t make the cut

Gotta run...Stuff to do. Wish me luck.

10, 9, 8....

With 10 days to go, I’m experiencing serious name separation anxiety. How can I be TK if there’s no K? What will my friends call me? When I ran for vice president of the student council in 8th grade my slogan was: Don’t be dog, Vote for Katz! What happens if I run for President one day? What could possibly top that?

Luckily M returned from his bachelor party in South Beach with only a few scars. The poor thing took a bit of a whipping but luckily Dr. Pepper was there to nurse him back to health. Apparently the other TK had to sit through some stories that no brother should hear about their sister, but luckily none are true. So there.

And while M was in South Beach I was at a leadership training conference in San Diego. Note: people who know what they want, get what they want. And that’s some free advice for all of you. On my trip home I started a new book called Eat, Pray, Love. It’s a wonderful story about a woman who realizes she doesn’t want children, doesn’t want to be married and instead leaves everything for a romantic year of travel abroad and sexy Italian men. Nothing like a good story about divorce and noncommittal affairs to prepare me to get married next week…

I have devised an ingenious strategy to avoid crying when I walk down the aisle. I am playing Cannon in D over and over and over again on my work computer. I want to be so sick of the song by time I walk down the aisle that I’d rather scream than cry. My co-workers happen to think I’m crazy, but so does everyone else at this point, so why stop now.

Q: So how I am feeling with a little more than a week to go?
A: How you do think? I am totally wired. Could use a sedative.

Never give up

What I find so hysterical and heartwarming is how many people have taken a genuine interest in my fascination with the New York Times. The other day I received an out-of the-blue email from a guy I’ve never met before. He lives in New York City and has a friend who fetches coffee for staff at the Times. He emailed to tell me he contacted his friend on my behalf and unfortunately she has no pull. I couldn’t help but chuckle when I read his email. How very sweet it is that people I barely know are looking out for me. And at the same, it’s so funny that people I barely know must think I’m absolutely crazy.

I received a similar email a few weeks ago when a friend asked his friend who supposedly knew someone who worked at the Times if they had any pull. My friend emailed to say that while this friend of a friend worked at the Times, they worked in the mail room or something, and hence had no pull.

When M and I met with the band not long ago, the band leader also was ready to pull some strings for me. After I told her the story of how we got engaged, and she told me she got engaged the very same way, but on the cover of the Daily News, she began to rattle off a list of contacts. She thought for sure her neighbor, an ad sales exec for the Times, would have some pull. So now an intern, a mail room clerk and an ad sales exec have all heard my case. Sounds promising, no?

So if you happen to know a janitor or a secretary at the Times, please, please, please tell them you know me. The paper boy might be a good in too.
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This weekend M and I had our auf ruf, a pre-wedding ceremony. It’s basically an excuse in the Jewish religion for the congregation to nail the bride and groom with candy. I got scratched in the head with a flying Sunkist jelly by none other than my future brother in law. Nice.