Leap of Faith

As much as I understand how the wedding ceremony signals the beginning of our life together as husband and wife, I feel like Joey and I really became a permanent adult couple this week.  When Joey offered and I accepted that beautiful diamond ring on that beautiful Santa Monica day, we made a commitment to each other.  That proposal supposedly was the moment that we officially decided that we were sticking together no matter what, and at the wedding that contract will be sealed.

But this week I moved to Omaha.  This week I left New Orleans, the city that I have come to truly love in a way I never would have expected before that first fateful trip five years ago.  This week I said goodbye to all the wonderful people and things I have become accustomed to and familiar with and all the opportunities I had yet to explore in that crazy beautiful city with so much hidden below the beaded surface.  This week I got in my beloved little red firetruck, the car that has served me faithfully since my first frightened 6am forays behind the wheel onto the streets of Los Angeles, packed up a very confused and concerned kitten, and drove a thousand miles to live in Omaha, Nebraska with the man I love.

To me, this is the commitment.  I am taking a huge leap of faith here.  I am leaving comfort and familiarity, friends and organizations that I know how to work into my life.  I am moving to a place where I know almost nothing and almost no one.  I am moving without a job, without the majority of my belongings including furniture (and cooking utensils!), and without a built-in community into which I will fit, like a university.  I am moving 100% to be with Joey, who has chosen the University of Nebraska Medical Center as his overlord for the next several years of his life.

There is hope, though; Omaha streets appear to have been laid out by sober city planners and Joey has introduced me to a wonderful new group of friends over the course of the last year of visits.  We picked out a great apartment in a safe part of town.  My car and my relationship survived the trip from New Orleans through Mississippi (lots of Mississippi), Arkansas, St Louis (where we were able to take advantage of the everlasting HGM family and stay with the inimitable Dean Tambling), Kansas City, lots more Missouri, Iowa, and finally to Omaha.  I have job interviews lined up all week, and plan to apply for more, so at least I've got that process started.  Joey and I have done a lot of shopping these last two days and now have what I am calling a "minimally functional household".  We have a place to sleep, minimal kitchen utensils, and two chairs.  Our first night here I made midnight pasta which we ate standing up in the kitchen before collapsing on a sheet on the floor of our bedroom.  Our second night, I made miso-glazed salmon from Trader Joe's, brown rice, and steamed green beans, which we ate on newly-purchased dishes with my grandparents' silverware, sitting on newly-purchased patio chairs (thank you, craigslist) on our private balcony before going to sleep on our brand-new mattress in our newly-purchased antique bed.  We are definitely moving in a positive direction, and fast.

Last month I was focused on finals and finishing school (turns out, my last semester was the one in which I finally learned to get things done early and earn consistently good grades).  Three weeks ago I was focused on packing up and downsizing my New Orleans life.  Last week I was hosting my family for graduation while finalizing packing and coordinating my move.  Just a few days ago I was putting all my energy into driving (and worrying about the cat, who was nonplussed about the whole thing).  This week I am setting up my new home and worrying about things like "where do these bowls go?" and "did we buy a sponge?".  Today is my first job interview, for a family looking for a once-a-week babysitter.  It's not a long-term career, but it will give me something to do and some new people to meet for at least a little while.

Next week is when the reality of my new life will really sink in.  Joey is going off to work in a lab for the summer, and it will be up to me to figure out what I'm doing here.  Fortunately, I have the love and support of Joey and, to a lesser extent, Boudreaux.  I have a safe place to live and wonderful friends I can turn to, even if they're far away.  We're moving forward, and the road ahead may be scary, but it's leading somewhere good.

Addressing the Dress

Today I made a big step in the road towards bridehood.  I put down a deposit on my wedding dress.  "But (Ari)Ella," I hear you cry in protest, "How could you possibly have put down a deposit on a dress that has not even been whispered about yet?  Did you not bring 18 friends and acquaintances to Kleinfelds to tell you how beautiful you look in a pink tutu and laugh at the dress of your dreams until that sassy gay man tells them to cut it out and guide you through the path of self-actualization until you shout 'YES!' to your dress through a veil of tears?"  "No," says I, "I did not.  That show scares me."  (and plus, Max hasn't let me watch it in years).

The calm and ease surrounding the acquisition of my wedding dress is a gift from my mother, whose creativity and brainstorm method allows her to come up with the strangest solutions that actually make the most sense.  In this case, her idea was getting a custom gown made.  "But (Ari)Ella," I hear you interrupt again, "Won't that cost an infinite number of dollars?  Why would you do that?"  Well, as it turns out, no. Getting a dress custom-made is shockingly cost-effective, especially considering, you know, it's custom, so I can get exactly what I want and have it love my body like nothing I've ever owned.

When you buy a wedding dress through the usual route, you shop through dresses until you find the perfect one, or until you get fed up and just choose one.  For some people, like my friends Chelsea and Monica, this can be an incredibly easy process.  I think it took Chelsea a week from proposal to purchase, and Monica fell in love with the first dress she tried on.  Other girls just really enjoy the shopping process, so don't care how long it takes them to find their dress.  Those of you who have been shopping with me know this is not me.  My process is usually to go to Target, find three things I like, and then pick the best color or pattern (or two or three) and get out of there.  Alternatively, I fly through Marshall's flipping through dresses and tops like they're pages of a 300-page book I forgot to read for the paper I have to write due tomorrow, grab my allotted seven items, try them, and then toss them or buy them.  Sarah admonishes me when I refuse to try things on because I just want to get to the kitchen aisle.  Joey has even admitted that shopping with me is an unpainful experience. This ruthless efficiency, while good for Joey when I need a new skirt, makes the prospect of appointment upon appointment to try on sample-size wedding dresses fills me with dread.  Make that filled me with dread.  With a custom wedding dress, I just sit down and talk to them about what I want, then go in for a few fittings.  No shopping required.

The other thing is the cost.  Wedding dresses are expensive, a fact that should come as no surprise to anyone.  The average cost of a wedding dress before tailoring and veiling and embellishments and all those extras is upwards of a thousand dollars.  Part of what you are paying for is the name on the label. Vera Wang, Panina... that's all I know.  Also, you want your dress to fit perfectly so you're going to pay for alterations and tailoring on top of that. And even then, you end up with an edited original.  With a custom dress, I get something that is designed to work best with my body.  The woman at the shop pointed out things that would make me look good and steered me away from things that wouldn't work with my shape.  The alterations as we go through the fittings will be made by the original seamstress so she'll know exactly how best to work with the dress to achieve the desired result.  And, because it's being made by Han in Metairie, it's a lot less needlessly expensive than something made by Panina (well, Panina's minions) in Manhattan.  Also, making the dress fit perfectly is part of the process, not a paid extra.  

A few weeks ago, I got the name of a workshop from the lovely Kim Coleman, beautiful fashionista and Maid of Mid-City (to those of you not from New Orleans, that means she rode in a Mardi Gras parade).  I knew she'd know the best places.  I went in for a consultation with them that basically consisted of flipping through Brides magazine and talking about what I liked and didn't like, and what would and would not look good on me.  We sketched out a basic dress and talked about fabric and that was about it.  I sent the sketch and inspiration dresses to my bridesmaid and maid of honor and they approved and gave a couple helpful suggestions.

Today, I went back in for measurements and to put down my deposit.  I'll go in once more for to make a muslin rough draft of what the dress will look like before I leave New Orleans, and then twice more for additional fittings before it's ready for me to bring home.  As my mom pointed out, having to go to New Orleans is not the worst thing in the world.  Also, it will make me happy to have a little NOLA with me as I walk down the aisle.

Venue Visits

Early on in this whole wedding planning process, I decided that I would make a conscious effort to think about what is really important to me in regards to the wedding and what I should really remember is not worth fussing over.  Groom?  VERY important.  Centerpieces?  So long as they're not impeding people's good time, it really doesn't matter that much.  By focusing on the things that were important to me and letting the others slide, I thought I could sail on through this wedding as the easiest, breeziest bride ever in the history of bridedom.  

How wrong I was.  

One of the things that I decided was important to me was the wedding date.  As I discussed in one of the earliest blog posts, there are a lot of factors to consider that will affect when we can have our special day.  The wedding date is also one of the few elements of the wedding that will continue to be relevant for years.  An anniversary is a special event.  Especially for me, since I grew up in a family that celebrated every joyous event to the max.  My mother was still giving me pink rainboots with hearts on them for Valentine's Day through senior year of high school, and my grandmother sent me Halloween cards until she couldn't write anymore.  For these reasons and more, I didn't want my wedding anniversary, one of the most important days of the year for the rest of my life, to be dependent on some stranger's wedding date or the pool-cleaning schedule at a pretty venue I like.  Therefore, when Joey and I picked a date that we liked, that had significance (and convenience!) for us, I kinda latched onto it and decided that it was one of my (hopefully few) non-negotiable elements.  This sounds pretty reasonable, right?  The date is over a year away and at a time that works for our families, so, as far as bridal quirks go, this one is pretty easy to work with ...or so you would think. 

This past weekend, Joey and I travelled to LA to spend Passover with my family and check out wedding venues, with my dad along as expert-on-hand, since Joey and I have no idea what we're doing.  After doing extensive online research, I narrowed our venue visits down to four, which I will call A, B, C, and D.  I was going to write out the locations and include links, but then I realized that I am going to point out positive and negative elements of each and I would feel very stupid if I chose one of these and then all my lovely readers were distracted at our wedding by the off-center arches and corny crown moulding at our venue of choice, or sad that we didn't choose the place with the three-story slide into a bunny pit.  So, until we pick a place, the identity of the candidates shall remain protected.  

Venue A

Venue A was lovely.  We were greeted by a very nice man who walked us through the location and flow of events.  There was a lovely outdoor space for the ceremony as well as indoor dinner/dancing areas, which was exactly what I wanted.  The whole place felt cozy and intimate, and their on-site caterer is actually a very nice restaurant company that both my mom and I have heard of.  The guy who showed us around was very kind and helpful and seemed interested in getting to know us.  His only mistake was telling us about a wedding coming up this month that is no longer coming up this month because the groom got cold feet.  I said we shouldn't even mention such things, to which he replied "Oh, you have nothing to worry about, this guy was only 23!"  I explained why that was in no way comforting and the poor guy started backpedaling and tripping over his words so fast, Joey had to explain that I was just giving him a hard time and it was really okay.  Strangely enough, I think that made me like the guy and the place more.  As we left, I explained that I have no way to gauge Venue A against others, since I hadn't seen any others, but it seemed great!  

Venue B

Venue B was amazing.  Very different from Venue A in that the building itself was amazing, whereas at Venue A it felt like the venue was just a good space to hold an amazing event.  Venue B had a distinct personality all its own.  There was an indoor space and an outdoor space for the ceremony, both of which would be amazing, and a beautiful ballroom area for dinner and dancing that had all the lovely little details that architecture junkies like my family notice.  The woman who showed us around was friendly and funny (well, she laughed at my jokes, you can make of that what you will) and I think that all four of us were feeling really good about the idea of having the wedding there.  Then, as we were sitting and discussing options and logistics, she double-checked our date availability (I had already checked it with another person who worked there when I made the appointment) and learned that it was no longer available.  After such a great tour, that was quite a disappointment.  This is the part where Joey and my dad look to me with that face that says "okay, the special date idea was cute before, but now that it actually matters, can you just let it go?" and oh goodness I wish I could... but I'm emotionally stuck on it now!  And now I'm afraid that this one non-negotiable point is turning me into my biggest fear: Bridezilla.  I'm torn between it being one very reasonable request and it now suddenly becoming a problematic deal-breaker.  We explained the situation to our hostess and left with a very friendly "let us know if anything changes" to go to our next venue.  

Venue C

Venue C was an easy one.  The events team was off for the holiday weekend, which we couldn't really work around because this is our only planned trip to LA for a while, but we were supposed to be able to walk around the space anyway, which looked great from the photos online. Unfortunately, nobody had told them we were coming so it took 20 minutes to get them to let us over to the event space.  When we got there it looked not at all like what we'd seen in the photos and was very harsh and sterile looking, not at all the feeling we wanted for our wedding.  We left pretty quickly (but not before Joey diagnosed the girl working the front desk with Cushings.  Med students are weird).   [someone tell me how to properly punctuate the end of this paragraph!  There are two full sentences inside the parenthetical phrase of the final sentence!]

Venue D

When we walked into Venue D there was nobody to greet us and nobody to talk to, since they were all busy with what appeared to be other couples planning their wedding at the same place. This isn't horrible.  Having to wait five minutes isn't the end of the world and just because other people get married there doesn't make it, in my mother's words, a "wedding factory". The nail in the coffin came before we even began the tour, though.  Before the tour and just after finding our names on her tour sheet for the day (we had made appointments at all these places), she asked us to fill out a form with our contact information and wedding details and "how did you hear about us?" and all other sorts of malarkey.  This brought me and Joey back to the day we spent apartment hunting in Omaha.  Some places made us fill out information cards before they'd talk to us and it just put a bad taste in our mouths.  The place we ultimately chose just wanted to get to know us and our needs and we really liked that.  So I filled out the info card at Venue D cursorily, knowing that this wasn't the place.  Then the tour started, with the woman speaking in an unnervingly unnatural high-pitched sing-songy voice that drove Joey nuts.  She kept pointing out pianos that lived at the venue that we could have available to us on our wedding day.  I thought my mom, who has recently rekindled her love of playing piano, would love this, particularly the grand piano, until I saw all the nicks and scratches in it.  When I notice nicks and scratches from five feet away in a dimly-lit room, you can bet my mother would cry to see a musical instrument so mistreated.  The thing I liked least about the tour was that the woman kept talking to me, saying "so you can do this or that, it's really whatever you want, Ariella", only sometimes mentioning "and Joey" as an afterthought.  I hate the "it's the bride's day" mentality and her consistent semantic reinforcement of this paradigm drove me up a wall.  They do have our date available though!  Joey wanted to check, even though none of the three of us liked the place.  

Venue E -- Surprise!

Don't scroll back to the beginning, you're right, I did say there were four venues.  Well, more specifically, I said I planned for there to be four venues.  One place, Venue E, we were not going to visit because, when I called, they said our date was unavailable, and, as anyone who's ever seen "Say Yes to the Dress" knows, you should never try on what you can't have.  My mom and dad were crazy for this place, though, and wanted me to take a look anyway.  They were not impressed by my Say Yes to the Dress logic.  This is probably because they don't have cable.  Anyway, since the Venue B debacle, I figured we may as well look at this place they liked.  Plus, it was by the beach and I'd been itching to get my toes in the ocean water since Thanksgiving*.  Venue E was amazing.  Beautiful building, beautiful view, everything I'd wanted.  Fortunately, this time I knew it was unavailable before I fell in love again, but it was still hard to see a space so wonderful and know that it was unavailable to me because of my desire for that one special date.  I tried to tell Joey that maybe I could get over the date thing, but even as I tried to say it I couldn't believe myself and he wasn't really buying it either.  As much as he thinks it's a little bit crazy, he knows it's not something I'm going to be able to "just get over".  

The upshot of all this is that we still don't have a venue picked and I'm wishing I had picked something different to focus on, or at least that I hadn't found such a perfect date.  

*Little-known fact:  California girls have a powerful connection to the beach and we need to touch the Pacific Ocean every once in a while to recharge.  Los Angelinas who have moved away, try it if you don't believe me.  Take a trip to the beach next time you're in town.  See how much better you feel afterwards.  

Durable Goods

So this isn't strictly wedding-planning-related, but I think it's important to keep in mind as I start down the road of "becoming Mrs. Rohr", because what is a wedding worth if the resultant marriage isn't strong?

Today, I came across this image on the internet:

I don't know if it's a true story or just fictionalized to make a point, but I like it.  We absolutely live in an age in which items are made and purchased as cheaply as possible and meant to be replaced on a regular basis.  I have an iPhone that I fully expect to replace in two years, when my contract tells me I can for something like $40.  I know that's the norm and I absolutely take part, but think about it for a second.  This little magical box the size of a deck of cards, which can surf the internet and hold days worth of music and take and send videos, technology that we could hardly imagine a decade ago, is now considered replaceable within two years.  

On the other end of the spectrum, Joey and I will be bringing to our new home my grandparents' favorite armchairs, still in beautiful condition despite their age.  These chairs were built in a time when furniture was consistently made to last, when families would purchase one vacuum cleaner and use it for decades.  If things broke, they would be repaired, not replaced.  Remember cobblers?  

The house that I currently live in has had several significant problems over the last two years of my inhabitance.  I have done battle with the gas and electric company because the wires were crossed and mislabeled, installed a door handle on an exterior door that was just missing that rather important piece of equipment, and crafted a kitchen island out of mini-fridges, plywood, and tile.  Most of the people I have lived with have deemed this level of disrepair unacceptable and moved out after a single year of residence.  I certainly cannot blame them for this, since they are merely renting, not buying, so for them the effort to fix the problems is simply not worth it.  I, however, chose to stay until I move to Omaha this May, dealing with the issues as they come up and taking perhaps a little too much pride in my little home projects.  

Joey's and my relationship is not perfect.  It is wonderful and sweet and magical and special and a million other happy (if painfully cliché) adjectives, but I will never claim it is perfect.  Sometimes I get irrationally upset over completely unimportant things.  Sometimes Joey has difficulty seeing my point of view.  Sometimes we live in different states, or on different continents.  But I never want to just give up and look for a new, shiny relationship that hasn't had time to develop broken hinges or scuffed edges.  Every disagreement, every misunderstanding is an opportunity for us to learn more about each other and show that we care about each other even when things aren't sparkly and easy.  Of course it's much nicer when things go smoothly, but I take pride in the repairs we are able to make when we need to make them.  

I am marrying Joey because I think he is the best one for me.  I believe that we have built a beautiful relationship on a solid foundation.  I believe that our relationship and our plans for our future life together as husband and wife embody the perfect combination of careful thought and romantic whimsy.  I believe that, despite all this, we will find bumps and cracks and forgotten essential elements.  I believe that we will be able to smooth out the bumps, fix the cracks, and build all our essential elements together if we remember that some things are not disposable and replaceable.  

It's a Party!

There is one element of this wedding that is very important, requires great care and thought in selecting, and is completely independent of the wedding venue, that stubborn little detail that is currently barring all others from realization.  That element, my friends, is the wedding party.  No, not all you lovely guys and gals who will be dancing your socks off to celebrate our nuptials.  I refer instead to the lovely ladies and gentleman who will stand by our side on our wedding day, remind Joey of his name when he forgets it under the pressure of the moment, untuck my dress from my panties after a hasty last nosepowdering of my unmarried life, and generally share the delightful burden of wedding planning.  I am talking about our Maid of Honor, Bridesmaid, and Best Man.  Yes, we have one and only one of each.  Let me introduce them to you.

Best Man:  David Rohr, brother of the groom.  David is Joey's younger and only brother.  When they were little, they were going to be the first brother team to go into space, until they both got to be too tall.  They were also going to play the first-ever duet for viola and saxophone, until they realized, after Joey wrote the music, that there was a very good reason that such a musical piece had never been composed.  David is currently a sophomore at Pitt, where he still plays the saxophone in the band.  He loves his fraternities, Ella's cooking, and long drives in the car.

Maid of Honor:  Janna Lowensohn, sister of the bride.  Janna is a tall blonde who excels at ballet and math.  Clearly the genes were divided in this family.  She did, however, follow her sister's example of heading south for college and is currently in her first year at Oxford College of Emory University in Georgia.  Janna and Ariella's best sisterly qualities come out when they are getting ready to go out for an evening event and neither has anything to wear until the other finds it for her.

  

Bridesmaid:  Rachel Rohr, sister of the groom.  The youngest of the Rohr clan, Rachel is a brilliant student, creative fashionista, and fiery personality.  She usually prefers green grapes, like her brother David, except for when she is feeling particularly fond of Joey, when she switches to red.  All the Rohrs, except for Joey, will deny this fact.  Rachel is a freshman at Pitt with David, and they have dinner every Sunday.  When she was four and Joey was nine, he tried to use plastic craft scissors to cut her hair.  Thankfully, she has recovered.  

Selecting a Setting

Well, I had been hoping to write my next post when I had some sort of new information to share, but I am beginning to realize that the earliest I can have any new real decision made will be April, when we check out a few venues in LA.  Really, we can't decide anything else (colors, florist, catering) until we know where we're having it, since it will all be dependent on our available space.  If the wedding is in a garden, no florist.  If the wedding is in The Red and Orange Room, the wedding colors probably can't be yellow and green.  I like you all too much to send you away with migraines.

Instead, let's discuss what we're looking for in a venue.  Who knows, maybe one of you will have a brilliant suggestion for a venue for us.

So far, we've mostly been looking in Santa Monica and Malibu, because we like the beach and it just provides a beautiful background for the event.  As much as we like the idea of the beach, though, we realize that the reality of a beach wedding is difficulty walking in the sand, wind blowing hair and dresses everywhere, seagulls cawing or pooping, waves crashing too loudly for anyone to hear, kids playing volleyball, and a million other things we can't control.

The best solution to that is a semi-indoor, semi-outdoor location.  Once I got that thought in my head, I realized that was definitely what I wanted to do.  It doesn't necessarily need to be at the beach, but I love the idea of dinner and dancing inside (you know, so there are lights and you can see what you're doing), with the option to walk around outside, get some air, maybe have a quiet conversation with one of your super-awesome fellow party-goers.  When I think about wedding-like events I've been to, I realize that I don't like spending the whole time on the dance floor at all.  In fact, often my favorite part is getting to spend some quality time, away from the music, with someone I don't usually get to see.  Besides, as HGMers will recall from Winter Ball, it can get rather warm inside when everyone's dancing.

Another consideration is convenience.  We will (hopefully) have delegates from Michigan, Louisiana, Nebraska, North Carolina, Georgia, Pennsylvania, Illinois, and other lovely states and maybe even countries joining us at our wedding.  After asking people to fly in from far away, I'd hate for them to get lost trying to find some weird location eight hours away from the nearest airport.

Another issue that I keep bumping into is that I don't want to have it somewhere that we've already had a wonderful memorable family event.  For example, a beautiful example of "semi-indoor, on the beach, easy to get to" is Gladstone's.  Gladstones is, in fact, such a wonderful location that we held my mom's rockin' 40th birthday there!  I remember the little betta fish bowl centerpieces that people took home, and singing along with my mom and sister in the car to "When I'm Sixty-Four" by the Beatles as my mom rehearsed for her big performance.  That was a wonderful party and I'm sure many of you who have known my family forever remember it.  I would like to keep that wonderful party and this wonderful party separate.

Joey and I will be in LA very briefly for the weekend of April 6-8 to spend Passover with my family and the Roffmans, my Jewish Holiday family, and hope to spend a few hours on Saturday morning visiting some frontrunners and hopefully picking one we love.  Wish us luck!

Spring Hibernation

Well, Joey is back in Omaha and I am back in New Orleans and school has recommenced for the both of us, which means that wedding planning (and, consequently, blogging) is going on the back burner for a while.

In the meantime, we will be starting to look through venues, though it's rather difficult to get a good feel for a place from two thousand miles away.  If anyone has any great suggestions for LA venues, I am, as I told my mother, "happy to accept all information (for now), with the understanding that I reserve the right to reject it all".  I'm currently liking the idea of places that will allow both indoor and outdoor areas at the same time, since it will be spring or summer (warm), but also nighttime (cool).  My parents kindly visited Huntington Gardens yesterday to scout it out and learned two very important things: first, that the capacity at Huntington Gardens is something like a thousand.  Second, the cost of renting the space, before even considering music, catering, or equipment, is one hundred thousand dollars.  Then again, I guess you don't have to pay a florist...

We're also working on figuring out the guest list, which will hopefully help us figure out what kinds of places we can look into (the options for a 100-person wedding are vastly different from the options for a 300-person wedding).  Joey and I are wonderfully cursed that we have so many people in our lives that we love, it's difficult to figure out how to draw the line between creating a wonderful experience for our loved ones that isn't impossibly large, and not feeling like we left people out.

There's also the added complication that, at this point in our lives, most of our friends have come from schools that we have since left.  There are many people who I consider no-brainers, of course they'd have to come to the wedding, we've been friends for years!  ...only to realize that we haven't actually seen each other in years.  When you're only 22 years old, your best friend from age 5-17 seems like a huge deal because you knew her for half your life, but I haven't been 17 for five years now.  This is not to say that I don't deeply care for these people anymore.  Quite the opposite.  Like I said, my first instinct is to absolutely invite them and sit them at the family table, but perhaps I am being a little bit unrealistic in that belief.

As it turns out, the August 2013 date is not going to work out for us, so we are now hoping for May 2013, though of course we are waiting to hear when Joey's test is going to be, which further contributes to the strange limbo we find ourselves in.  It's very sweet and a little strange discussing the date with Joey.  Contrary to one of my least-favorite stereotypes of men and women, I am the one saying that I can wait until 2014 if that's what works out best, while Joey thinks next weekend looks nice...