not only did i come out to the dressmaker

a while back, but yesterday, yesterday she met holly.

and omg, it was just about the cutest darn thing i’ve ever seen. i mean, those puppies rolling around in fluffy toilet paper (you know those commercials and you know you love them so don’t even)  on teevee are pretty darn cute. but this might come in as a close second or even a tie.

after we voted (i had the day off), we went all over baltimore running errands (stopping for kosher chinese, ‘natch). and since we had to get some fancy shoes spruced up, i decided we would take them to henry–i think his name is henry?–who shares space with my belarus(ian?) dressmaker. his shop is decidedly old school and word on the street (the street being my office, of course) that he’s the best guy round these parts when it comes to fixing pointy women’s shoes. so i was like, “oooh i’m gonna introduce you to my dressmaker!”

so we walked thru the shoemakers and peeked around into her tiny shop and i was like helllooooo and she was like “jesseeeka!” with her usual big smile, oh, she just has the biggest and warmest smile. and i was like, “i have someone here i want you to meet!” and so in pops holly ’round her door. “this is holly!” i say. and she was like “oooooooh!!! holly!” and she gave her the biggest, warmest hug. it was so friggin cute i coulda burst. we all chatted [holly thanking her for being so kind to me b/c, as she so eloquently put it, i can be “difficult.” (difficult? me? never!)] and smiled a lot and a few minutes later, when we were getting ready to leave, she gave holly another hug and then hugged me and said, “ahhh, i love you, jesseeka!” and i was like “aww i love you!” and trust me, i do. i really do.

so tonight i’ll be packin’ up and heading down for my very last fitting, the one when we make sure everything’s perfect. i have all my accessories to try on with it, including my fabulous shoes [thanks, cousin jen!! (note: not really my cousin, but it sure does feel like it, doesn’t it?? we’re like jewish summercamp bunkmates from a past life. it’s unbelievable!) love ya!!!]. and now i can picture what my hair and make-up will look like. i’ve lost about all the weight i can at this point (healthfully, of course; a combination of weight watchers and the abs diet for women), and here’s hoping all those free weights have done my arms good b/c heaven knows i’ve tried.

tomorrow’s our very last appt. w/our rabbi, where we’ll actually practice circling around each other (an ancient jewish wedding ceremony custom signifying our devotion to one another). we’re awaiting our ketubah’s (marriage contract; another ancient jewish practice–we’re having it designed by an artist friend) arrival. my stomach’s full of butterflies. i’m a nervous wreck. my eye twitch has come back, full-force. but, like i said the other day, i’m actually excited vs. just being stressed. to all my friends reading this: i can’t wait to see you. i can’t wait to give you all big hugs, and have you all in one place. pls be patient with me (as if you’d all be any other way!) b/c i’m sure i’ll have my head only half-on. and i’ll probably make at least one of you go for emergency smoothie runs b/c my blood sugar will no doubt be dropping throughout friday and saturday (and nonono, as holly will tell you: we don’t want that). and i’m sure i’ll be crying a lot. like, a lot. b/c i’m just going to be so happy. pls know that having you there will mean the world to me! even if i can’t get the words out, i’m just telling you now. you all mean the world to me.

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what did the russian dressmaker say to the gay jew?

wait, um. lemme guess! w-w-w-wait! i, ummmm….don’t….i don’t know! tell me tell me!

sorry to disappoint’cha, but that joke doesn’t have a punchline b/c that joke is my life. (and no, silly! i’m not the russian dressmaker! i’m the gay jew!!! you so crazy!)

yesterday was my appointment to get measured for my wedding dress [yes, the Big Fat Gay Wedding (which will be referred to, upon second reference from this point on, as BFGW)]. it will be made from scratch by a lovely dressmaker (recommended by a particularly faaaabulous newscaster) who hails from belarus(say: bella-ROOS) (which, i mean, isn’t really russia, right? but they’re pretty close and hell! it’s so much easier to just say “russian dressmaker” than, uh, “belaru…belaroooooosian (??) dressmaker,” yes?) and works in the armpit that is the baltimore ‘hood of pikesville (sorry if any of my readers are from pikesville, but i just can’t deal w/the place. it’s like walking out of north jersey hebrew school circa ’88 to meet my mom in the carpool line except not quite as many beemers and ‘benzes and oh yeah! we had a buick w/baaaaad squeaky breaks back then and a hand-me-down-car before that we called “the green tank.”have i mentioned hebrew school seriously scarred me? like, the girls from north caldwell(home to tony and carmela soprano’s actualhouse) wouldn’t talk to me for weeks until i had my mom buy me white keds. more on that another day. *shudder*).

but anyway, i digress. the reason why there’s no punchline is that i was scared to tell her i’m having a same-sex wedding. this is very rare for me, as i generally am pretty open (read: “mypartnerhollythis, mypartnerhollythat“) w/the gay stuff. but i am so desperate to have this perfect perfect dress (YES I’M WEARING A DRESS TO MY BFGW, NOT A TUX, PPL, A DRESS) and i can’t get myself to jeopardize it. so when she asked me in her russian (belaroooooosian?) accent, “is that where’s he’s from?” [“he” meaning my fiance, errr, holly. (um, henry??)] i really and truly didn’t know what to say. i kinda felt like the wind was knocked outta me. she asked when i was explaining that i lived in d.c. before baltimore. (i know, not the most exciting conversation, but gimme a break; i was topless, nervous and covered in measuring tape) i was like, “um, no, pennsylvania.” then she asked where “he” lives now, and i said, “we live in baltimore.” and she paused and said, “oh, so you live together.” now, i don’t claim to be an expert in the nuances of human conversation or anything, but i think she seemed surprised. and if she’s surprised that we live together (own a home together, even), well then i think i shouldn’t bring up the whole actually-i’m-not-marrying-a-man-actually-it’s-a-wo-man thing just yet. notsomuch. (but i plan to tell her once we’re underway, and i’ll bet money that i’m misjudging her.)

so the measuring went well, i think. then we (dressmaker, her assistant and i) all went to joann fabric up the road in owings mills, and she proceeded to demonstrate the importance of squeezing the material to make sure it doesn’t get easily wrinkled. (“since you’ll be getting up and sitting down and getting up,” she explained.) i felt really cool going around this otherwise lame suburban fabric store w/these two dressmakers who were going on and on about mysterious dressmaking things in a language i couldn’t understand. i also was overcome by the feeling that i was (am) in such good hands.

when i was gearing up to leave, she gave me the nicest hug and i swear i felt like breaking down into tears right there. i was like, “thank you so much for taking care of me. my mom’s up in new jersey and…” (lump in throat) and she was like, with the nicest twinkle in her eye, “don’t worry. i take care of you.”