Planning a wedding is one of those things that you think you totally understand. You hear people talking about how there are so many details that they think they'll go insane and you nod along; of course, it's a huge party with lots of expectations, families are merging... it's stressful! We get it. But in the back of your mind, you're thinking "I don't really see how many of these alleged details there could be. When I get married, I'm not going to worry about all of that crap."
And then, my friends, you start planning a wedding and all of a sudden there are so many details that you think you might drown in minister phone numbers and invitation designs and you have to delete thenknot.com from your browser bookmarks because it throws a hundred tiny purple exclamation points in your face every time you feel like killing a few minutes browsing pictures of wedding-day hairdos. Because as it turns out, you aren't sure about the loose, low bun anymore. Maybe an updo would be better. Or a low ponytail thing. Maybe you should get a haircut. Maybe not. Fuck.
I still consider myself fairly close to the "zen" side of the bridezilla scale, but now that we've officially crossed the six-month mark I find that the wedding is on my mind pretty much constantly. It's always there, lurking in the background. When I make my to-do lists at work I find myself creating a separate wedding to-do list in the margin of my paper. Prep for 11am conference call... call that other minister. Fedex that package to New York... look up the address of the hair salon next to the venue so we can cruise by and see if looks shady when we're out there for the caterer tasting on Saturday. I'll add to the list day by day, week by week, all the time becoming a bit more frantic. Why haven't I called that minister yet? What about honeymoon destinations? Forget honeymoons, what about invitations? I need to call that store in Hampden.... And then, all of a sudden, I'll have a burst of productivity and I'll call seven different people and in one short half-hour I've crossed nearly everything off the cursed to-do list. And then I'll feel great, and I'll wonder why I don't just DO things right away instead of thinking about doing them for three weeks. And that, my friends, pretty much sums up my life. Just DOING things is easier than thinking and worrying about how you really need to do them. If only I could manage to apply this principle in other areas of my life (like, say, cleaning the house and clearing out my work inbox) I am pretty sure I could rule the world. But there is so much good TV on and I still have two Harry Potter books to read, so... yeah, nevermind. What were we talking about?
The planning is slowly but surely moving along, which is good because time has officially started to fly by. We finally set the preliminary wedding menu and we have the tasting on Saturday. The whole menu thing was ridiculously taxing. In hindsight I should have realized that a girl who has trouble deciding what to order that very moment at a restaurant (the eggplant! no, the shrimp pasta! no, the steak! Yes, steak. Or eggplant...) would have some difficulty deciding what 100 other people might want to eat six months from now, but I suffered under the delusion that picking out food would be easy-peasy. Be forewarned: it's a pain in the ass. Stop worrying about making everyone happy and just pick something. You're welcome. (Wow, between "just do it" and "stop worrying and just do it", I can't believe no one's hired me to write fortune cookies yet.)
Other things that are D-O-N-E... Save-the-dates have been chosen, printed, addressed and mailed (and this was very enjoyable because I adore paper products and have a compulsive love for hand-addressing things). I ordered two huge boxes of mason jars from EBay to use for the table centerpieces and they all arrived intact (and I got a refund for the first batch I bought, which arrived not-intact). I created a wedding website. And... is that really it? It... it can't be. But, yes, according to my spreadsheet, that's it. Wow, that's really quite depressing.
But! Let's also note that the following are thiscclose to being done:
- Confirming the menu and sending in caterer deposit (hopefully this will move to the D-O-N-E list after Saturday's tasting).
- We have two more officiant meetings set up (one on Sunday, the other on Tuesday - although, to be honest, I'm wondering what kind of minister is available to meet with people at 10:30 on a Sunday morning? Should she be, like, in church or something?) You people who go to church and have a minister/pastor/priest/rabbi to do your ceremony: YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LUCKY YOU ARE. The price of being a heathen is not, as it turns out, just eternal damnation. No, you also have to weed through a list of one million phone numbers and websites and try to find someone who is 1. moderately reliable, and 2. not a total douchebag, to marry you. And take it from me: there are a lot of shady-ass douchebags out there, and quite a few of them make a living performing wedding ceremonies. We did find a dude that we both liked very much and he would be perfect (despite being on the high end as far as fees go - and fees in this racket are anywhere from $350-$750) except for the fact that he has another wedding an hour and a half after ours. He assures us that this is do-able and not a problem at all and on the one hand, I trust him because, hey, this is his job and he has a lot more experience with weddings that we do, so if he says it's not a problem, it's probably not a problem (and besides, we'll be first so it wont' be our wedding thats' screwed if things run late).... but on the other hand, I don't know if we want to be responsible for ruining someone else's wedding if someone's car breaks down or a freak tornado blows through in the morning and delays things. So... we will sacrifice two hours of television-watching time to meet with officiants. And if neither pans out, Reverend NPW will fly down from Boston and marry us.
- And... that's it. Jesus, I really thought I had more things to list here. I am really starting to get depressed now.
- Well, let's also add "picking out bridesmaid dresses" to the almost-done list because if weren't for JCrew this would also be D-O-N-E. Jenny, Beth and I finally sat down over the weekend and decided on three dresses from Jcrew. This way, people would have a bit of a selection at very reasonable prices, they would all be easily ordered online, and possibly best of all - they came in a lovely "vintage blue" color that matched our color palate perfectly. I was just about to send out an email with the final Bridesmaid Dress Decree yesterday, but when I went to Jcrew's site to copy the links for each dress I noticed that they are all sold out in vintage blue in every size between zero and fourteen. I shot off an email to Mary, my personal Jcrew wedding consultant, to see if possibly this was just a fluke or a website error or something other than JCREW TRYING TO RUIN MY LIFE... but seeing as many of the other colors are now showing up as backordered until April, I'm not hopeful. In the meantime, back to the fucking drawing board. I have never spent so much time looking at dresses that I am not even planning to wear, and this is really getting dangerous. I already have two black and white strapless dresses hanging in my closet with the tags still on, so there is really no way that I can justify buying this dress for myself. But... it's so pretty. And the economy, it needs stimulating! Let me ask you, internet: if you were a bridesmaid, how would you feel about picking a dress from this lovely page of lovely dresses and wearing it to my wedding? Because I am just about DONE with Jcrew. First they change clearance to final sale, and now they're trying to ruin my wedding. We're done, Jcrew. It's over. For real this time. Unless - Mary from Jcrew, if you're reading this - I JUST NEED FIVE DRESSES IN VINTAGE BLUE. EMAIL ME. I'LL FORGIVE YOU.
Bridesmaid dress fiasco and the officiant racket aside, I am getting more and more excited for this whole wedding shebang. As the weather gets warmer and the daylight stretches longer, July feels less and less like a faraway time in the mystical future. The closer we get to spring (and holy hell, am I ever ready for it to be spring), the more real the whole wedding thing seems - and dudes, I am SO excited. Don't let my complaining fool you. When I'm not feeling sorry for myself for not having a personal secretary to deal with the bullshit details, I'm feeling like the happiest goddamn person in the mid-Atlantic. I am blown away on an almost-daily basis by how lucky I am (or I should say, we are, because let's face it: I'm not a bad catch) and it makes me feel all mushy inside. And as I keep reminding myself, that's what all this wedding nonsense is about: having someone who tolerates my wearing socks to bed and my tendency to never close the cabinets in the bathroom, someone who will still kiss me in the morning, knowing full well that I have the most offensive morning breath in the house - and don't forget, we have three cats.
Now, if you're all finished vomiting after that spontaneous Sap Attack, I have to excuse myself to call a few more potential douchebags to see if they're available on the 25th of July.