I’ve given up trying to think of this whole affair as anything up what it is. I’m actually having a wedding.
I’m not longer thinking of it as a eloping thing with a party afterwards. It’s not really – because you don’t really plan eloping. It’s honestly and unapologetically a small civil ceremony in our home town when it’s convenient and makes sense to us (while managing to inconvenience others, apparently) with a quiet dinner afterwards at a local restaurant. I’m having pictures taken of us there, and it’ll be fun. We’re following this with a honeymoon on a beach for a week…with our families and any of our closest friends who can make it out. Then, after we recover for a month, we’re having the official reception as a backyard gala.
There are invitations, there’s wedding bands, there’s discussions of music, there’s – gods help me – a floral theme…it must really be a wedding.
The crazy thing? I never wanted a Wedding. Well, once, I wanted the white dress made by my maternal grandmother and it was going to look exactly like my Madame Alexander doll. And I was going to carry roses from my parents’ backyard. And I’d have long, beautiful hair and look stunning. But then, I grew up. And I realized that I really didn’t want to stop my life for an entire year to diet, plan, plot, scrimp, save and drive friends and relations insane. I wanted something that suited me…and since I planned elaborate two hour events for weeks at a time looking at details and plotting for months how everything would work to never have a perfect performance in a three week run…I decided not to spaz myself over all that. Then, I looked at where my beloved and I lived, and remembered that while I like it & many of our friends like it…there was going to be no convincing most of my family to come here unless there was an Event…and I no longer wanted the Event. So…screw that noise.
Then, there’s the fact that my immediate family, imo, is still questionable towards my intended. Yes, they’ve given up arguing since I seem so set for it…but there’s still doubts in their heads. I can see it. Of course, he’s not a multimillionaire allowing me to sit at home, host tea parties and be the socially minded woman my mother thinks I should be able to be, so they’re never going to be happy. However, I don’t think I’d ever get the hang of drinking with my pinky finger out, so I’m okay with all that. For quite some time, D & I toyed with the idea of not having them there at all. What finally decided us was finances. We wanted this done…and in order to do it, we were going to have to ask for help or wait several years. We decided to not wait…which meant we gave them the option of coming to the ceremony. They decided for it. Just like my MoH, they’re going to shell out some serious dough and show up for me. Rock the frick on.
So now, everything requires planning. And discussion. And while we haven’t had to discuss anything insane (paper weight, quality of servingware) we have had insane moments of too many questions (what color ink, gerber daisies, color) and moments of mental anguish (D’s best man will be unable to do it due to his work schedule, so he’s going with his back up which isn’t horrifying…but slightly sad).
I guess this means I’m really having a Wedding. Now I’m off to listen to CDs. Because, while we aren’t having a first dance, I have to make sure (for me, anyway) that there’s music we can dance to.