Stevie Nicks Explosion

I’m headed into my 37th hour of couch camping while battling a case of strep so severe that the nurse actually recoiled in disgust after looking down my throat. Instead of doing anything productive like learning to play “Landslide” on guitar or starting to write the epic teen novel that’s been bouncing around in my head, I have watched 25 episodes of Hart of Dixie. It’s not particularly entertaining other than having a dirty-sexy white trash guy who is sweaty and shirtless a lot. That and Rachel Bilson’s teeth. I’m happy that she kept her weird teeth instead of getting veneers. It gives her character. And I would like to see her boobs.

I stopped to google “Rachel Bilson’s teeth” and a list of hot girls with bad teeth was the first thing that popped up. WHERE THE HELL WAS THAT WHEN I WAS A KID?! My parents could have saved thousands on orthodontia and I could have been the mysteriously sexy bucktoothed/snaggle toothed/gappy/creepy toofed girl. FUCK.

Oh well.

The down time and subsequent boredom have driven me to finally make a Pinterest board for the wedding. It’s been a whole lot of me, sitting with both dog and computer on my lap, stoned on weed brownies (Pain killers! They didn’t give me anything except antibiotics and it feels like I’m swallowing pebbles covered in glass covered in razors.) and typing, “boho goth centerpiece” into Pinterest’s search engine. I kept telling people I want the wedding to look like Stevie Nicks exploded all over it. So apparently this is a smattering of what exploded Stevie looks like to me:

chandelier

tent

head

 

 

At least now when I drunkenly insist to my fiancé that I want it to look like a 70’s coke den I’ll have pictures to back me up. Bless his heart, at this point I think he’d go along with anything to shut me up.

You know what would be awesome though? IF THE VENUE WOULD WRITE ME BACK.

The first event chick either got fired or quit. We’re on chick number two and thus far she’s got equally lackadaisical communication skills.

Perhaps it’s the weed brownie (medicinal pain killer!) but my paranoia led me to re-read all our e-mails to see if I’ve been coming off as a needy bridezilla (sweet christ I hate that word). Alas, I seem sane and perhaps only a little desperate for some answers.

How am I supposed to get overly amped about my Pinterest board if I’m not even entirely sure that the venue will actually happen? How can I make a Stevie Nicks Explosion with no place for her to explode??

If you need me, I’ll just be here with my ass molded into the couch, listening to the Fleetwood Mac pandora station and googling taxidermy rental places.

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