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Weddingbee Blog
Our pastor requires that we meet with him a few times before the big day, but with Mr. Skunk in Madison, we’re just now getting around to it. Our pastor is actually my best friend and MOH L. Bug’s dad so I’ve known him, trusted him, and thought of him as my second dad for all of my life. I was worried it would be a little awkward, but this week we had our first session and it was actually really insightful.
For the most part, everything he asked about, we had already discussed. Finances, kids, alone time. We had it covered. And then he asked, “So why marriage? Why now?”
In case you haven’t noticed by now, I have a super dry sense of humor. I’m also overly realistic. Mr. Porcupine likes to remind me that I am using the wrong “tic,” and that in reality I am overly pessimistic. Whatever, such a literalist. If I had only gotten a degree in psychology I might have been able to pinpoint a new disorder with lots of grant-funded research that I like to call: Negative Nelly Syndromatic Psychosis. (Yes, I completely made that crap up.)
The thing is, yes, Mr. P is probably right. I don’t know why the hell I’m like this. I haven’t had enough bad crap happen to me in life to be sooo jaded (minus that time I got laid off twice in 1 and 1/2 years, and that other time I got mugged the eve of Christmas Eve—so what if I’m Jewish, Jesus was pissed!). Obviously this is a really fun mentality to have wired into your DNA when you’re a bride.
Basically I will find one little detail of my life that is pissing me off and hold that over every other good thing going on. Suddenly everything positive is immediately discounted.
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Hi, my name is Miss Dalmatian and I was a sister-of-the-bride. Yes, I realize that is just a statement, but if you keep reading you will see where the confession part comes in.
A little over a year before Mr. Dalmatian popped the question, I was sitting in his dorm room when my phone rang. I saw it was Sister A and figured she was calling just to catch up and chat. WRONG. She was calling to tell me that she was engaged!
The first thought that went through my head: Bahhh! I am so happy for her!
The second thought that went through my head: When are we going dress shopping?
The third thought that went through my head (not so proud of this one): I’m jealous.
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I’m warning you now that this post is going to be a little rant-y.
A bloggy friend recently wrote a great post talking about the five most annoying things about getting married. Number 5 on the list was the fact that people start acting like getting hitched is a death sentence—that you’ll never be “free” again, that you’re life is over, etc. and so forth. Miss Petit Four also lightly touched on the subject here.
This got me thinking. Recently, a (commitment-phobic) acquaintance and I were talking about my upcoming nuptials, and he decided to use the analogy that getting married was like jumping off a plane…but worse, because, according to him, 3 out of 4 marriages fail. He proceeded to ask me that if you were told that 3 out of 4 parachutes fail when you jump out of a plane, would you still do it? In other words, since 3 out of 4 marriages fail, why even bother?
I didn’t really know what to say to that, aside from wanting to tell him to possibly keep his mouth shut.
But it did make me think; knowing that more and more marriages have a tendency to not work out in this day and age, why do some of us—why do I—bother doing it in the first place?
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Hi, my name is Miss Dalmatian and I was an impatient girlfriend. I admit I had stacks of bridal magazines long before I had a ring on my finger. I had a folder of wedding inspiration saved on my desktop many months before he popped the question. Heck, I even visited a few venues—it’s not entirely my fault; Mama Dalmatian is an enabler!
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| Personal Photo of the wedding folder on my desktop |
In general, this wasn’t too problematic. We had faced many situations that proved Mr. Dalmatian didn’t scare easily. Like the time he went on my computer and saw I was browsing wedding gowns (and already on page 52). Or the time he was included in a family photograph and my grandmother told him “You’d better come through now, buddy.” If the thought of commitment or the sound of wedding bells scared him, he would have been out the door quite a long time ago!
So when the wedding world began to sweep me away, I didn’t put up too much of a fight…
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Bride Brain [’ˈbrīd’-’ˈbrān’]:
A less invasive, but more expensive version of a frontal lobotomy. Experienced by most brides, as they enter a catatonic state which renders them incapable of sustaining any thought or conversation that does not involve cake, caterers, flowers, wedding dress designers, Chinese wedding dress knock-off designers, updos, hair pieces, color schemes, wedding themes, and personalized M&M’s.
Bride Brain symptoms include, but are not limited to, driving erratically because they can’t stop staring at their shiny diamond ring; being amused by the resentment of all their single girlfriends, rewinding songs several hundred times while imagining themselves walking down the aisle, and starvation induced bitchiness which is generally followed by late night binging at a Dairy Queen. (Note that this can only occur outside of the bride’s native geographic area, where they can’t possibly run into anyone they know.)
Symptoms are ordinarily well controlled with valium, alcohol and endless hours of watching youtube “first dance” videos.
Yesterday, it was like a flip had been switched. I suddenly moved from a state of relative yet appropriate obsession of all wedding-related details, to an insatiable desire to answer ALL QUESTIONS IMMEDIATELY.
Create the honeymoon of your dreams.
Less than a month. Even as I type it part of me can’t believe it. There were periods of time where this engagement felt like an ETERNITY…where all I want to do is just be married to Mr. Ticket already and not hear one more person ask me, “Are you excited yet?!” or, “Well, you should be all done planning now, right?” (You’ve got to be kidding me with that last one folks.) Yet here we are: the Ticket wedding is less than one month away. I’ve basically been running around like a crazy lady for the last month as is. If general life stuff, work, and helping Mr. Ticket move into our future home wasn’t enough to deal with, we are in crunch time in regards to wedding planning. I’ve been baking cookies, designing the menu, working on the OOT bags, buying materials for our photo booth, printing and cutting, and generally just trying to stay sane while accomplishing more than I have ever attempted before in my life. Getting a college degree was a cake walk compared to wedding planning.
I’m happy to say it’s not all stressful though, as there are certainly some fun moments in there, too.
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We are quickly approaching the 100 day countdown to the Sunhat / Ball Cap wedding. I’m trying not to freak out about going into double digits.
The last couple of months have been quite hectic and stressful for us.
I’m in no way trying to be a big baby whiner here.
Image via potsc.com
Life happens whether you are planning a wedding or not.
Unfortunately, I’m not always the best at managing my stress. So what’s a boy and girl to do? Run away of course!
You can tell that’s the bridal march, right? 
I heard a lot of the dah dum t’dumms growing up because my mom was (and still is) our church organist and she played at many of the congregants’ weddings. When I went through my teenage phase of “I wanna be completely different from everyone in the whole wide world,” I decided I wouldn’t be a person who came down the aisle to the bridal march if/when I ever got married, and I never changed my mind about that. But in all the years since then, I also haven’t been that interested in getting married in general, so I’ve given precious little thought to any other specific things that I did or didn’t want at my potential future wedding. Except this one thing….
Hive, I’m gonna just come right out and say it. This one thing is kind of a diva moment.
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“To lead a better life, I need my love to be here. ” - The Beatles
Do me a kindness, hive, and stop for a second.
Stop and think about everything you’re doing as we speak. You’re reading {at least, I hope you are}. 
You could be toggling between tabs and paying for bills, reading work emails or chatting online with friends. There could be music playing….or your sweet doggie’s snoozing at your feet. And while I’d love to believe you’re giving this post all your energy and attention, I know better. You’re multitasking.
Peek into my Ostrich mind and you’ll see the same thing—a dizzying amount of work emails, neglected chores, 30 minute dinner recipes, workout schedules, weekend planning, life dreams and life worries that consume my thoughts at any given second. And as I write this, I keep glancing down at my phone to check/answer work emails, I’m shuffling through my Pandora radio station and superfun ideas for Mr. O’s big birthday bash are popping up in my head. OOOOOF.
And - shocker - we’re not alone.
Alternative post title: No one ever told me that you go crazy in the last two weeks of wedding planning.
Image via Rotten Tomatoes
Everything was chugging along wedding-wise, and then, somewhere between finishing my last string of bunting and finally getting our official head count, I went a little nutso.
Warning: ahead you will find much venting of wedding steam. Proceed at your own risk.
You may have noticed that I’ve been a little more absent lately (so sorry about that!), and I’m sure you can guess that the reason is because our wedding is fast approaching. At this point we are working on the wedding 100% of every waking hour (and when we’re sleeping, we’re both dreaming about the wedding so we can’t even really count that as a break). When we do take breaks, to eat or shower or whatever, we are doing so while we talk about the wedding. In my quiet moments, I am thinking only about the wedding and it never seems I have sufficient thinking time to actually resolve any of the issues I’m thinking about in the first place. There’s no time to see friends or family, and when we do all we can talk about is the wedding. Our tiny, lovely little house is full to the brim of wedding stuff. There’s not a single uncovered surface to be found, and until very recently none of it was organized in the slightest (which, for an overly organized person like myself, is just sheer torture).
It’s. All. Just. Too. Much.
{I can’t believe I’m letting the blogosphere take a tour of my house in such disarray.}
Two years ago we started planning this shindig in earnest, and back then we both thought we’d have plenty of time to take on any and every project we could possibly imagine.
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So, our RSVP due date was August 20. By then, 26 out of our 64 invitations had no RSVP sent in. We had a few late ones come in and a few people who called, texted, Facebooked. emailed, or whatever, to let us know. There were a few we knew would be coming without them saying anything (*cough* Mom & Dad *cough*). Now we’re tracking down the last few we aren’t certain about and should have final numbers by then end of the week.
So, I’m trying to figure out exactly how many tables we’ll have, how many linens we need to rent, how we’re going to arrange everything, and whether or not we’re really going to do escort cards. It’s weird. The closer the big day gets, the less worried about it I seem to get, despite the fact that I have a ton of stuff to do. It’s like, I’ve realized that my time is finite, and whatever isn’t done just won’t be done and somehow, I’ll still get married. It’s a real relief.
I’m going to do my best, get things done and be satisfied. I’m going to be honest—I’ve been worrying about this wedding a lot, and for all the dumbest reasons.
My number one worry has been, “What will everyone else think?”
Alternate Title: “Why Are We Having a Wedding Again?”
Or, “Man, I’m Tired”
So, I’m kinda over all this wedding stuff. I mean, yes, I am excited to marry Mr. M and be his wife and all that. And, I’m excited to see all our friends and family. And I’m most excited to wear my pretty dress. Just kidding…not really.
But, I’m soooooooooooooo tireddddddddddd of making decisiooooooonnnnnnnnnnns [that’s my whiny voice]. Like, for instance, what to name our tables. We could number them…or we could name them after cat breeds…or we could name them after Harry Potter things (like the Shrieking Shack and the Whomping Willow, and wouldn’t it be fun to put people at the Slytherin table???)…or we could name them after trees, since we sorta have this tree theme going…sort of.
The Whomping Willow via Harry Potter Lexicon
The Whomping Willow is a tree! OMG, also, I feel like I am distracted all the time, and like I’m hopped up on meth too, not that I actually know what meth is like, but I can imagine. In my mind it’s like “buttons, seating chart, hair, make up, rain, rain, tent, freaking tent, coffee, fall, leaves…” and on and on and on all freaking day and night long.
Ahem.
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In general, I don’t think I’m a very emotional person. My default is pretty happy, and my departures from this status quo are usually fairly brief and relatively infrequent. As a result, any considerable display of emotion is a marked departure from my norm. Which is exactly why the day after the wedding has been far more difficult than I ever could have imagined.
When discussing the emotions swirling around weddings, you generally discuss whether or not you’ll cry during the walk down the aisle, or during the vows, or during the toasts. No one discusses whether you’ll cry on the day after the wedding. And most definitely no one discusses whether you’ll cry more than a decent amount on the day after the wedding. But I’m here to tell you that it can happen, because it did to the Snow Cones.
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