When Your Fiancé’s Students Find Your Wedding Website

BIG LOL to my fiance’s students (he teaches high school, btw). Looks like a few RSVP’d to our wedding

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Google is some scary shizz.

**Just a note, my fiancé’s childhood nickname was “White Chocolate”, which is why someone thought it would be cute to RSVP as “White Chocalate”.  Kudos to the kid who was persistent enough to find that tid-bit on Google, but minus 5 points for gettin’ the spelling wrong!  

To Veil or Not to Veil?

I didn’t even think of veils until I saw one at the store recently. I was entranced by the lovely array of white, ecru and shell-colored veils with rhinestones, delicate lace stitching, and ribbon trims. I flipped over one of the tags on a seemingly plain option and nearly had a heart-attack.

Is THAT what veils cost?

I carefully removed my hands from the whole thing and slowly took a step back. One fingernail snag and the whole “you broke it, you buy it” thing would have come into effect. I walked away, grumbling to myself about paying over $100 for a swath of white netting.

I left the store feeling a little deflated because let’s face it, a long flowing veil is a nice accessory to complete the “blushing bride” look. At this point, I want to be the blushing bride. This is a one-time party, as I’ll never consider spending this much on a party again. I’ve developed a vision on this quest and the vision includes me being swung around the dance floor like a Disney princess, long gown and veil romantically swirling around us. My photographer would catch the moment and it’d become the face of our thank you and possibly Christmas cards.

…or not.

What’s the point of a veil exactly? I’m not a virgin and frankly there are no blushes to be concealed. Do pretty, romantic blushes still apply to 33-year old women? At what point does one call it rosacea?

Don’t judge, but the idea of buying mosquito netting and DIYing it has crossed my mind. Or I can take my friend’s idea and dress up every Halloween as a “bride” and prance around town in my finest!

Eh, why not?:)

Color, Color Everywhere…

I thought this was going to be easy. Long before I got my dress and bridesmaids in place, I envisioned a beach-themed wedding (in a wedding hall of course, because let’s be frank, the weather-gods will piss on you when they can). Beach theme is easy, just add some blue uplighting, throw a few decorative seashells on the tables, salt water taffy as favors, and done!

Reality turned out to be QUITE different.

It started with an innocent search on David’s Bridal. Having no idea what I wanted for me or the bridesmaids, I decided to scan around, getting a feel for the lay bride-landia when I clicked on an innocent-looking icon called “swatches”. The webpage opened up to a dizzying amount of swatches in a wide spectrum of colors that would rival a Pantone book. There was pink, light pink, blush, dark pink, magenta, fuchsia, then purple, royal purple, plum, eggplant. And then the blues, ice blue, royal blue. I’m sure you get the picture. Being enamored with all things color (as evidenced by my Pantone quip above) I quickly filled up my cart with every color that I fancied.

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And these were just the ones I liked when they arrived. Everything else was blah, boring or just plain ugly. And because these options weren’t excessive enough, I decided I wanted TWO  colors to complement each other for the wedding.

This is where it got crazy:

Options Swatches

And it got worse. My combo choices changed daily, even hourly on some days. This went on for quite sometime. I was constantly shuffling swatches like one would if they had a nervous tick and a deck of cards.

At the brink of losing my sanity, I needed direction. I decided to consult Pinterest for ideas.

BIG MISTAKE.

Along with ideas for color schemes, I also found myself needing the following:

A candy table AND a Viennese table AND a steam-punk decorated cake

A spray-painted white football, to wrap the garter around to toss to the groomsmen.

Giant DIY paper-mache flowers for the bridesmaids

Wooden coasters where guests would carve their marriage advice onto.

This new world very quickly became stressful and frightening and expensive and… oh wait, is that a RAINBOW WEDDING–GET  OUT?!

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It was a revelation, a whimsical wedding, because I AM whimsical.  As a graphic artist, color was MY JAM and the whole non-matching thing would make things so easy! The bridesmaids can choose their own colors, the cake can be a cascading tower of unicorn poop (complete edible glitter, of course, because, hey it’s whimsical!), the favors can m&m’s, skittles, or heck, that colorful candy table I saw on Pinterest.

DONE!

“…It’ll look like a gay wedding,” said my horrified fiancé.

I want to preface here that he’s in no way a homophobe. He was stating facts. Here in America, unless it’s a toddler’s birthday party, a wedding, complete with rainbows = gay.

I had to shelve the idea, not because of what people would think about me, but because it wouldn’t be fair to my guy with the gender-neutral sounding name. I’ll just have to get my color-rocks off somewhere else. Any ideas?  :/

The Reluctant Bride

YESSSS!

The one I want to be with forever and ever just proposed! I’m marrying the love of my life!  Let the heavenly streamers fall from the skies. Cue the angels, sound the trumpets. IT IS HAPPENING!  Life is good, all is perfect in the land of love, except for one little thing:

He wants a HUGE wedding.

Normally, 150 people isn’t considered a large wedding (just ask the Greeks). For me, only child of a two-parent union that was devoid of any supplementary family members like cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents, 150 people is a VERY BIG DEAL. The very idea makes me break out into a cold sweat. That’s planning every single aspect of a giant, expensive one-day party from napkins to what colors our doves are going to shit. I’ll tell you what color, whatever the opposite of green is. That’s right, the idea of a large wedding is my equivalent of sticking paper money in a shredder and then throwing it around like confetti.

Hrmm… maybe THAT’S what we should use instead of doves?

And with that, all kinds of other thoughts raced through my head: Who do I invite? Will my parents be okay at the same table? Not everyone needs a plus one! Chicken, fish AND beef–what is this, a restaurant? Who’s paying for this, exactly? I stifled my fears and rapidly jotted down my guest list which included my parents, a handful of friends from high school and some co-workers from various jobs. Thirty people total with married plus ones. I was in trouble.

No problem, said my husband-to-be since his nearest and dearest was close to upwards of 100 people. 120 to be exact. No, more like 145, or at least that’s what he told the banquet hall manager.

I quickly did the sum in my head: 30+145=175 and then I did it again.

CUE FACE-MELTING, LASER DEATH STARE.

His face didn’t melt.  Instead, he turned to me, eyes wide with excitement as if to say this is happening. I felt the glee ebb off of him in happy little waves, which deflected my laser death beams and shot them back melting my brooding heart.

During the car ride home, I decided to try one more time. I asked pleaded to have a small tiny wedding:

“You sure we just can’t do it at city hall?”

“Nope!” 🙂

I just looked at him resigned. He doesn’t ask for much, and I can’t deny him this. It’s all about small sacrifices, right?  And so, we are here, at the start of the roller coaster, slowly making our way up on the ramp.

Here. We. Go.

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