It is done. The invitations are being printed as I type this blog post. It wasn't as traumatic as I thought, but I did have to call my mom in Mexico before I could actually push the button to place the order.
We don't want 'lined' inner envelopes, right?
The response cards are going to your house, right?
I should have them shipped to me, right?
No reception card, right?
The invitation was worded ok, right?
This was a drawn out process. It required at least 45 emails, 10 pdf's of different invitation wording (do we want "the honour of your presence" or "pleasure of your company"?) and several consultations with Nancy. We decided on the english (yeah I don't capitalize it...want to fight about it?) spelling of 'honor' (i.e. honour) but I am not sure why. I am definitely not english, but sometimes I wish I was. Then maybe I would be a descendant of Henry VIII or Elizabeth I, and that would be really cool. And that would explain my craziness. Maybe.
Tangent: We watched a show last night about the ailments of King Henry VIII and apparently he was all crazy as a result of a jousting injury which caused him to lose consciousness for two hours. After that he had a perpetual open, infected wound on his leg, debilitating migraines, and probably frontal lobe damage. Not to mention that he was a type 2 diabetic that weighed 400 lbs. No wonder he was peeved all the time. Though I don't condone beheading your wives, especially since I am becoming a wife in May.
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