Hiiiiiiii! I’m Miss Ladyfingers, and I’m super duper excited to meet you! It’s my goal to entertain and inspire you as much as all my predecessors have for me. At the very least, maybe I’ll make you laugh. At me. Which is totally fine. We laugh at me all the time, too.
In my application, I promised gratuitous shots of cute, starring Puppy Ladyfingers — and I do not want to disappoint!
For the past five months, I’ve done little but read the blogs of past Bees and dreamed of being one of them. As our planning started to gel and I started to get more projects underway — not to mention a really hefty to-do list — I started wondering when the next generation would appear. Imagine my glee when I opened my feed reader one morning to see the announcement of the Tea Party generation! Looking at all the cute, pastel, delicious icons, I immediately started blogging daily over on my WordPress site. I checked my email like, every 45 seconds for the first week or so, then figured there was no way I’d make it the first time around. Other than slyly checking my junk mail filter every few days, I tried to push it out of my mind. Blogging was loads of fun anyway, so I’d certainly keep it on even if I was turned down. For as long as I could remember, I have written for catharsis and for money. I’ve written really boring stuff and pretty exciting things. With all the stress and emotion and PRETTY of wedding planning, writing would be a perfect way for me to keep myself sane.
But then! In between putting away laundry and starting dinner one night after work, I picked up my BlackBerry and glanced at it to see if my friend had texted me back. It was a blur! I saw the email with the subject line “Weddingbee Application.” Oh, man. Here it is — my “After careful consideration, we’ve decided to keep your resume on file” email. But there was an attachment! And then I read that I would be a great addition to the Bee, and I squawked, “OH! OH MY GOD!” And Mr. Ladyfingers, alarmed, shouted, “WHAT?!” from the dining room. I came dancing in — really more of a wiggle with an awkward kick and some flailing arms — and yelled, “I got it! I’m a Bee!”
I let him choose my nickname, and he immediately landed upon Ladyfingers. “I sound like a spy or something — I’m Mr. Ladyfingers.” It was too adorable to pass up.
I can’t wait to share with all of you the trials and tribulations of our individual planning journey, and to learn a little about you, too! For now, here’s us: