Sunday, October 11, 2009

Dammit, I'm Bridezilla after all.

I was so determined not to get stressed out about this wedding. The idea of paying a bazillion dollars for a party and then worrying, freaking out and losing sleep over it never made sense to me. After all, we've been together for years. We've got the kids and the mortgage. Why bother?

Why? Why? Because of the wedding.

I've always loved a wedding. The best a party could be. Everything is there: pretty outfits. Open bar. Bad dancing. Sentimental tears. And more romance than a Harlequin Black Label convention. It always disappointed me a little bit that Keith and I had such a wonderful marriage but had somehow missed out on the wedding.

The last time I got Keith to try on a wedding ring was years ago, on holiday in Borneo. 'How does that feel, sir?' asked the sycophantic jeweller. 'Like a noose,' replied Keith. (Apologies if you're actually coming to the wedding. I'll probably make that gag again. Just laugh politely, would you?)

So it took us a few years. Now we're going ahead, the plans have got a bit out of control, and quite frankly, I could reach back a few months and slap Past-Me in the face with a seating chart. All those big bloody ideas of mine are coming back to haunt me now I'm in final-fortnight freak-out zone. Me no likey following through on the details. I prefer the wildly imaginative, throw-them-out-and-see-what-flies ideas phase of proceedings. I'm irritating like that.

Now I have to tie up all those pesky ends and I'm getting sweaty hands just thinking about it. Last night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of more stuff I had to do. Finally my tossing woke Keith up. He tried to talk me down. 'Every bride would go through this final stressy point,' he soothes. 'They'd more likely be worrying about the contents of their bonboniere boxes rather than how to organise a spotlight for their acrobats (ooh! a teaser!) but it will get done. You can do it. It's going to be fun, remember?'

And then he promised that tomorrow he would make me a big Gannt chart, and I remembered why I'm marrying him. I went back to sleep, but poor Keith, wide awake by then, and worrying about spotlights, charts and bonboniere, was up for an hour.

3 comments:

  1. Breaaaatttthhhhe. Now embrace the Bridezilla. If it's less than two weeks to go considerate near and dear ones will probably be able to outlast the stressy bride lady. It's when it goes on for a year and a half that they tend to draw the line. Um, not me. I just typed that last sentence through gritted bridesmaid teeth.

    Hey, and it's going to be fun, right?

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  2. angel girl. peace be with you. - but don't go Catholicism (sorry aunties) just choose one thing that has to be perfect ... the rest will fall into place. xx

    its going to be awesome, full of looouuurve and happiness - knowing you guys add a bit of craziness in the most perfect way. See you soon.

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  3. So sure it's going to be fabulous. You are, so there's no way anything you're in charge of could be less. Thinking of you and some advicefrom the dark side of the moon; rescue remedy is your friend, don't pick at your face the day before- and from one who did; don't accidentally eat week old bbq chicken 72 hours before the big day- unless you want to be really wedding-tastically thin.xxxxx

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Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.