December 20, 2010

Step Two: Plan a Wedding

Some girls (most, I'm discovering) dream about their weddings from childhood.  They imagine all the details, the gown, the cake... the groom?  I was not one of these girls.  While other girls were drawing tuxedos and top hats on pictures of celebrities pulled out of various magazines, I was reading storybooks, building tree forts and putting worms down other kids' shirts.  These activities, unfortunately, do not sufficiently prepare a girl for the MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF HER LIFE:  her wedding.

Imagine my horror, after "omg I'm engaged!" wore off, to discover what's actually involved in a wedding.  Dresses and flowers and aisle runners and eight thousand different pieces of stationery and unity candles (what the hell is a unity candle?) and limos and ribbons and photographers.  Showers and gifts and place settings and centrepieces,  guest books, favours, chair covers and place cards.  And food.  Everybody knows people only go to weddings for the "food" (aka: booze).  And you can't just have food there, no.  There has to be a cocktail hour with hors d'oeuvres and sweets and an eighteen-course plated meal followed by dessert and wedding cake and then a seafood station and finally, a midnight buffet.  And all of the food that goes into those things has to be super-fancy crap that nobody wants to admit actually tastes exactly the same no matter which caterer you choose.

Then there are the extra things that you didn't know you'd "need", like toasting glasses and cake server sets (what caterer doesn't have a knife?!), bridal jewellery and those fluffy bows that get stuck on the ends of the pews.  And once you think you've got all that down, there's postage on the invites and RSVP cards, gifts for everyone in your bridal party and tips for all the vendors you've already paid.

Complete and total overload.  What's a reformed tomboy to do with this sudden avalanche of WEDDING?  I do not have the benefit of years of daydreams and advanced planning.  I did not absently flip through bridal magazines while in the checkout line at the grocery store.  I do not have any experience with weddings beyond my attendance at them.  I was not expecting my proposal and was therefore not adequately prepared for what came after.  But I have a secret for staying on top of all these details despite my ignorance and planning an amazing wedding! 

Wedding planner.

December 19, 2010

Step One: The Proposal

According to every chick flick I've ever seen, there is a "typical" way for every love story to unfold.  Most girls I've met will protest, at least a little, that they don't expect these types of fantasies to ever really happen to anyone - but that doesn't mean they aren't secretly hoping for Prince Edward to ride up in his limo brandishing an umbrella and bouquet of flowers.  I'm sure of it.  The reason I am sure of this is because the first thing everyone always asks (after "Can I see your ring?!") is "How did he propose"?

They are usually disappointed.  My fiancé and I had both resigned ourselves to bachelor(ette)hood after the failures and hassles of previous relationships.  And we were both pretty okay with that - until we bumped into each other and couldn't ignore the butterflies.  Neither of us was interested in wasting time or being disappointed again so we went into the relationship with the understanding that, if all went well, we were headed to the altar. 


Five months later, things were working out.  Or maybe they weren't.  I don't remember.  What I remember is having a huge argument about something, and afterward sitting down on the couch exhausted.  After a minute or two of silence he said "What would you say if I asked you to marry me?"  And I said "Okay".  

Only one person has found this story to be romantic.  Another found it to be hilarious.  Most of the rest didn't know what to do with it.  My fiancé did not pop the question on a billboard or with a fancy dinner or on bended knee or with a quirky online video.  Instead, it slipped out of him when he had nothing else left to say - and isn't that when the truest things actually get said?  Also, there's a special sense of irony in this proposal.  It's like accepting that even though we wanted to kill each other just then, we were good to want to kill each other, and only each other, for the next fifty years.  Marital bliss.