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Suffocating

I know that Jane was recently wondering what her official duties will be as my wedding obudsman, and I just came up with her primary role about 27 minutes ago. Jane's main duty as wedding obudsman will be to learn the skills necessary to quickly unlace the back of my wedding gown and release me from THE CRUSHING BREATHLESS HELL THAT IS A CORSET! Holy shit people! I just went for my first fitting with the alterations lady, and as nice as she was, she was hell bent on achieving a v-shaped torso when really, I'm much more of a "u" type gal. It bothered me a little at first that I couldn't get a full breath, but its not like I'm sashaying around in corsets all the time, so I didn't realize what would happen to a hyperventilating hypochondriac freak like me after a few minutes of standing in a room with no ventilation in August in a heavy satin gown with multiple layers of tulle suffocating my body. At first, it was just a bit of shortness of breath. Then I saw the spotlights beating down upon my shoulders. I felt the sweat on my breastbone...

"Um, dress lady. Those lights are really hot."

"They are very bright. Are you doing okay?"

"I'm doing fine. It is just a bit warm in here."

"Do you need anything? Are you okay?"

"I think I'll be fine, but is there anyway to get a little bit of GET ME THE HELL OUT OF THIS THING!!!"

The dress lady sprung into action and within seconds, I was sitting in a chair, corseted top flung to the side and a copy of The Knot magazine fanning cool bursts of free-floating air into my lungs. I heart the dress lady. She rules.

The only downside of all of this was that at that point, I was sitting there in the bottom piece of my two piece wedding gown. Once oxygen started flowing through my brain I realized this. Mental note - train someone on how to release me from the top without releasing EVERYTHING.  So Jane, that is your job. Keep me from passing out, but protect me from over-sharing.

The dress lady said a lot of people get emotional and will pass out, but I know for a fact that I am just a freak about being hot and feeling like I can't breathe. It all stems from an incident in Denver, CO when I thought I was going to be crushed in a crowd of people pressing towards a tent serving Quarter Pounders with Cheese on a 90 degree day. Being small, I couldn't see the horizon, couldn't get air, couldn't get out. At one point, I had friends form a circle and push the crowd away so that I could get to a can of Sprite that some poor bastard had dropped on the ground when trying to escape the surging crowd of fast-food lovers. I took an extra long time and enjoyed the space they created before putting myself back into the crunch. At one point, I started feeling faint and hot and pukey and so I started trying to get out of the crowd. Then panic set in. I made it out just fine of course, but I hated that feeling. To this day, you won't find me ordering a damn Quarter Pounder.

I.can't.breath!!!

4:16 p.m. - August 27, 2004

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