If anyone tells you that place cards, or linen selection (or any other nitpicky detail that goes into planning the biggest party you'll ever have) are the chores that come with the biggest headaches, well... they're telling stories. Because as of right now, I'll tell you with complete confidence that dealing with your invitations is by far the most abominable task-- outranked only by putting together the guest list (and subsequent seating arrangement) that accompanies said invitations.

And to think there was a time when I thought it was outrageous to pay someone to do the dirty work and address your invitations for you. Tsk tsk.

Needless to say, as I looked down at the crooked chicken scratch on my otherwise pristine envelopes-- and as I momentarily contemplated chopping off my cramped right hand-- I began to second guess that once firmly-held opinion. Perhaps professional calligraphers... or any other person with half-decent penmanship, for that matter... really are worth the shocking amount of money they no doubt collect for their services.

But a couple of beers later, I had already finished the job myself-- and no doubt added that certain je ne sais quoi to the remainder of my now "charming and personalized" bits of stationary.

I'll consider myself lucky that choosing these invitations was a much more pleasant experience. Not but a few weeks ago, I made the well-advisd choice to visit Simply Noted-- a self-proclaimed "classic, chic paperie" nestled in Belvedere Square. Jer and I had completely dropped the ball on this one-- and a lot of shops would have laughed us out of their store when we told them we needed everything mailed out by the first week of April.

Hence, my stroke of luck. Making good on their promise, they had books full of chic collections to choose from. So naturally, Karron spent close to two hours graciously tolerating my indecisiveness (even as my far less patient mother balked and checked her watch every 15 seconds). Once the order was in, our invitations came in record time (barring an error from the manufacturer on half of them... totally not their fault, and they took care of it fast).

At the end of it, the only drawback was that-- at nearly $10 a piece-- the invitations were far from cheap. But then again, nothing with the word "wedding" attached to it is. (Oh, the stories I could tell.) Nevertheless, Mom picked up two boxes of shower invites at 50-percent off... which seemed to satisfy her unmet need for a deep discount, if only briefly.

So let me turn instead to the best part of this particular shopping experience: the hand-written, thank-you-for-your-business note that Karron sent in the mail a few days later... as if to say "There, there... my hand hurts too."

It was a smart and thoughtful gesture-- effective, too, because she'd have my business again in a heartbeat. Of course, next time, I'd insist she pay someone to write the note for her.