To the person who inquired about our potential wedding venue mere days after I inquired first, thank you for forcing our hand. Your inquiry allowed us to get off the mat and answer to something in the affirmative. Would we have made the decision anyway if given the traditional long mulling we give things? Probably. But now, thanks to you, we don't have to mull, we merely have to act. And I, for one, am glad about this. It is one less thing to think of.
But dear baby Jeebus are there just so many many many many other things to think about now.
I have really wanted to avoid overtaxing the blog with wedding planning, but it might become unavoidable as it does seem to require a dogged faithfulness. No sooner do you choose a date and a location then you have 9 million other things to think (argue) about.
So in this first iteration, I will discuss how my plan of having things simple has spiraled completely out of control.
The stereotypical representation of the bride has her agonizing over how to make things as special snowflake special as possible, taking things that are simple and making them complex. But don't let that fool you into thinking things are simple from the beginning. Apparently the Wedding Industrial Complex doesn't want things to be simple and the couple who is looking for simplicity will have to do just as much legwork as the couple who needs ice sculptures, chocolate waterfalls, and napkin rings with each attendee's name engraved on them.
Issue #1: Vows. We don't want to write our own vows. We want the traditional ones. In my head, I can hear them. On paper? Not a chance. Whether or not the vows in my head have ever been spoken, or whether I have created what I think are the traditional vows from samplings of other vows is yet to be decided, but a nearly exhaustive search of the internet has led me to the conclusion that we're going to have to write our own vows. And what I mean by that is take the bits and pieces from what the internet tells us are traditional vows, excise the god parts that make me crazy, and present whomever officiates with a script that must not be deviated from. I cannot stress enough that the one of the things that stresses me out most is the idea of extemporaneous speaking by strangers (and family and friends).
Issue #2: Registry. I didn't want one. I'm happy people will come and celebrate with us, and I'll be happy about that regardless of whether or not people bring gifts. The thing is, after over a decade of cohabitation, there's little, if anything, we don't already have. I look at making a registry as having to come up with things I want (and even when I try, it's like four things). Devoted partner suggested we register for careers. This caused much laughing. Now, don't get me wrong, I can come up with frivolous things I want, a PacoJet comes to mind (and it's come down in price; now it's only four thousand dollars), but let's be honest: I don't need a four thousand dollar ice cream maker. Not really. And come on, you've been to our houses throughout the years, do you really think we can handle having 100 dollar Waterford wine glasses? We have extra boxes of 1 dollar wine glasses in the attic to replace the ones we constantly break. We also wondered if we could register for a maid.
Along with the registry comes the wedding website. Which I also didn't want. There was a time, and we were all alive for that time, when there weren't wedding websites. We must have found a way to survive (wait, come to think of it, our Euro friends didn't have them). I know this comes from the Luddite who has no cellular technology to speak of, but I just feel like every decision brings us farther away from simple.
So now that we know when we're doing it and where we're doing it, the list of things that need doing has expanded geometrically. I apologize in advance that I don't know if I'll have other things to talk about as I have to bridezilla in reverse: excessively micromanage to make sure things stay simple.
1 week ago