That's One Way to Look at it

Add another friend to the “engaged” pile. His email was titled “Another One Bites the Dust” which I find hilarious and also scary. If we admit we are biting the dust, what does that make us? All the more excuse to go apesh^& with the party, I guess.

Mini-Adventures

Ikea! My friend and I drove down to Ikea to poke around for wedding decoration stuff. If you have ever been into an Ikea, you know that you need to plan about two extra hours for your visit because it is the most distracting place in the world. Everywhere you look, even if it is at a plain dining room table, there are seven hundred distractions. For some people—luckily I am one of them—this is the whole appeal of such a store. It just means you have to plan ahead because there are so many gadgets and do-hickeys to touch and hold and read about. This is maybe why we have three coat hooks shaped like a black lab’s rear end.

So I found some mirrors and candle holders I believe will do the trick for table centerpieces on my big day. Add some of those paper cranes and a small vase of wildflowers and BAM all done. Me likey.

And yes, I’m still workin’ on those paper cranes.

The First Delivery

The bridesmaid dresses are here! Yay, do they look fabulous. I can’t wait to see all my friends in them, looking like clones and exactly as I told them to look, standing like mannequins in the background. (If I liked smiley face “emoticons” I would insert a winking one here). Nah, they don’t look exactly all the same. I do sort of wish I had taken advantage of my power and made them wear something hideous- puffy and pastel maybe? Instead though, the colors are fantastically summery and each bridesmaid chose a different style that looks quite dashing on her if I do say so myself. I really hope they like what they got because I didn’t want to make them buy a $200 dress only to gag at themselves in the photos and run immediately home to burn it in an old oil barrel in a back alley somewhere. Obviously, being the great bridesmaids that they are, they would never own up to disliking my choices for them, but if you smell burning silk shantung on August 16th just keep it to yourself.

Bah Humbug

Work. Is. Killing. Me. It is so cold and dark and miserable and by the time those girls come over to get their sport on I am tired and crabby and want to go home and make dinner already even though that time is over three hours away. Thinking about a honeymoon is, again, a saving grace at these moments. I mean, once I get going, whistle in mouth, clipboard in hand (just kidding-this is only how coaches in the movies always look), it’s actually great. The girls have fun and are improving by the day, and I get to do something I love (aka boss them around). But waiting all day in the cold, dreary New England “spring” is sapping my will to do anything.

Recruiting is a horrible, horrible thing to have to spend time on. It’s like—no, it IS—sucking-up to one million high school coaches and athletes while blatantly and desperately pushing your school on them and everything but outright begging them to want to attend and play for you next season. I’m not great at brown-nosing. Did I mention my office has no windows? I may or may not take several breaks a day to browse cheesy wedding websites instead of “work.”

Pretty Things

I’m not a huge flower lover; did we already discuss this? I like a good yellow snapdragon, and I’m pretty pumped when the crocuses come up in Spring, but other than that I really don’t know squat. And I don’t care. Fiancé has been told that his money would be 100% wasted on flowers, and let’s just say he is not sad about that.

When I met with a florist (who my mom had to set up for me-thanks, Ma), I had no idea what to say. We were only getting bouquets and boutonnières, so it wasn’t a lengthy meeting about centerpiece flowers matching tablecloths (or napkins, again) etc., etc. Pretty much “I like yellow?” is what came out of my mouth. “And orange,” I added with a little more believability. So, zip-zap-zammo she named ten flowers I’d never heard of, showed me a couple pictures, and we were done. Luckily, whatever they end up looking like will be okay with me. I take this whole flower thing as a “calm” piece of the wedding planning. Let’s hope it’s not that so-called calm before the storm…

Dum Dum Da Dum

Do you know how many “wedding” songs there are out there? Jesus Lord in Heaven, it is an uncountable number. And it doesn’t help that I only know approximately 1% of them already, and therefore have to track them down on YouTube and other such sites, submitting myself to listening to them over and over and trying to distinguish one from another and then remember which ones I like the most, even though many of them sound extremely similar to my untrained ear. I would like to have some “nice” music while I walk the aisle, while people are waiting for that big moment, and etc. etc., but beyond that I have no requirements and absolutely no understanding of the selection process (not to mention no musical ability or selectivity). I think organ music is scary, but piano is nice (?).

Speaking of YouTube, you would not believe how many random people like to tape themselves playing piano and organ music and then post it online. Pick a song and just YouTube it. Do it. You will have so many choices, you won’t even believe it. If you want to listen to a second grader’s recital rendition, a professional performance, or a 75 year old’s living room hobby, complete with dying plants and hideous upholstery in the background, you can. This probably is not helping me decide which songs I like, considering the whole “video” part of it is so distracting. Good procrastination, though.

Not a Care in the World

So, Fiancé is being a very much stereotypical groom-to-be: he has no opinions. None. As long as we don’t serve shellfish (so he can make it through the night without an ambulance ride), he literally doesn’t care about making any decisions. And it’s not like he’s just saying that and will freak out later when he realizes what is going on, it’s like he really doesn’t mind whatever I choose. Is this an accident waiting to happen? Have I morphed into the scary bride who asks for help but puts out the vibe that says “don’t actually help me, this is my wedding $%^hole!”?

There are a million things to decide that, of course, in the long run really don’t matter. Should the invitation be ecru or eggshell? (I don’t even know what those are). If you think someone is going to get that invitation in the mail and scoff at your color choice, you have a long life of worry and woe ahead of you. Pick a damn color and send it away. Like I said, a free party will trump any faux-pas you could possibly make (and you don’t want the people who care about your invitation at your party anyway, jerks). In the end, I guess I don’t care if I make all the decisions, being The Bride and all. I guess I’ll call it success if he shows up at the church.