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Nightmare of a bride Even though I was not working on my wedding eve but sadly, I was not out enjoying myself either. In fact, I was like a little bee flying around, doing my last minute shopping for my wedding stuff. First off, I was desperately shopping around looking for a pair of shoes to go with my evening gown. I had been trying to find a suitable pair for quite sometime already but I was not willing to spend money on a pair of custom-made ones. In the end, I bought two pairs on that day! I bought the first pair out of desperation. I regretted my choice immediately after I've made the payment. Just when I was about to give-up, I finally found this shop that had what I liked. Oh yes, quite a lot of money was spent. I didn't get a chance to relax even after I've gotten the shoes. The to-do list for the day was long. I needed to buy hairpins and safety pins for my emergency kit, set my hair, buy lipstick and nail polish, have a facial, pack my things and more. At the beauty salon, I had facial, but it was not a normal facial. It was an oxy-facial that was supposed to give you immediate radiance! I had my eyelashes curled, my eyebrows trimmed, my fingers and toes waxed and the nails manicured. To be honest, other than the eyes, I didn't really notice any difference. Near to the end of my session, the staff recommended that I should go for a body scrub and a seaweed body treatment. It was the biggest mistake in my entire life! I knew it by heart that I should never try some new beauty scrub on my wedding eve. But somehow, I was lured by the possibility that I could be instantaneously radiant and fabulously gorgeous if I had all these recommended treatments. Anyway, I had this body treatment where I was wrapped in some green stuff and was made to lie down like a dead log for what felt like an eternity. When I finally left beauty salon, it was already seven in the evening! I had spent one fifth of my last day of single-hood in that shop! I couldn't believe I actually wasted my time in that way. There were still things to be done and time was running short. I still needed to get my hair set for the next day. I visited three salons in succession and every single one was closing for the day. No matter how much I begged and how pitiful and desperate I looked, all turned me down unsympathetically! Eventually, I gave up and rushed to the bridal shop to collect the accessories and wedding gown. At the bridal boutique, the designer drew my attention to the rashes on my body. The rashes were developing on my back and my legs! I looked at my bareback wedding gown, and my heart sank. The body scrub I had had caused rashes to develop! I returned to the beauty salon immediately. I was hoping that they could do something about it. I was hoping for a miracle. Sadly, there was nothing the beautician can do but bring me to the clinic and paid for the injection to alleviate my allergy to the treatment. When I reached home, I was in total despair. As I lie on my bed, I began to weep. Why did this happen to me? Morning came too soon. The rashes were still scorching red even after the injection and medication. To make matter worse, my eyes were puffy from the crying and I didn't get my hair done. I felt so miserable that I wanted to run away and postpone the wedding. But friends and relatives had already started streaming into the house. There was no way out. Fortunately, my make-up artist was sweet enough to set my hair. She even poured half of her powder on my back in the attempt to cover the rashes. I was grateful that she did not ask me about it. Finally, my husband had arrived. As he lifted my veil and gently kissed my lips, everything seemed alright again. I felt safe and secure when he held my hands. I didn't care about the rashes anymore. Many months later, when I look back and although I still see the signs of rashes in my wedding photos, I have come to accept the fact that nothing is perfect. I may have regrets in my wedding but I definitely have none in my marriage. I am happily married now. And that is the most important thing, isn't it? |