So I'll talk wedding instead.
I got several wedding planning books out of the library recently. One, I brought with me to work today. It's the Bridal Bargain Wedding Planner by Denise and Alan Fields. I was paging through all 300 pages of it, seeing pages and pages of stuff that I (the bride) need to accomplish.
Oye.
One, I am the bride. (Last thing I remember, I was 11 and getting my ears pierced, so, personally, I regard my bridal state as highly suspect.) How the heck did that happen?! Ok, I'm not a moron. I understand that I am the bride because an awesome man dropped to one knee and asked me to walk with him through life and I said yes. So, technically he asked me to be a wife. Now, the wife business, I'm all on board with. I even understand that I can't be a wife without being a bride, and I'm quite happy with being a bride - as far as it goes.
It's the bridey bride part I can't handle. Books such as the afore mentioned planner create in me a bizarre cocktail of emotions. So far, such ingredients as panic, apathy, dread, and disgust have been identified. I get panicky when I realize all the stuff that I'm expected to do. Case in point, checklists.
Now, two points about checklists.
- I happen to adore making lists of things I have to do. It focuses me and actually helps me get a lot done. Plus, crossing things off is unspeakably satisfying to me.
- Checklists in books oppress my very soul.
To some people, I'm willing to assume this lists are, in fact, useful and assuage stress. However, they suck the life from me. See, I think my problem is that, when I see 8,610 checklists, I freeze up and don't know which way to attack the situation first. I am a problem solver at heart (my inheritance from my father, I suspect), but I solve things by keeping track of them in my head or by writing them out. I can't vomit my ideas onto a pre-written checklist and expect it to remind me of anything. It's carefully controlled insanity within my brain.
For example, there are many decisions that have already been made that I no longer need to worry about. I know what I have to think about and get nailed down soon. Guest list and invites. See? That's very simple and manageable. I don't need an oppressive lavender printed checklist to tell me this. After that, other stuff. I'll figure it out after the guest list is done.
Favors? Not going to make an appearance. If any of my gentle readers attend the blessed event, please do not be disappointed in the lack of individual bags of Jordan almonds, or a mini soap, or bubbles, or bells. Don't get me wrong, such things can be delightful touches - but I haven't the mental capacity to handle them. A quick cost-benefit analysis shows the rationality of this. Meaghan stressed and ready to scrap the whole thing and run down to the courthouse over mini bells? Or. Meaghan happy and looking forward to a less cookie-cutter day where people can clink their forks against their drinking glasses if they want to watch the newlyweds smooch? The bride's peace of mind or bags of Jordan almonds? Granted, I have a severe conflict of interest in making this assessment - but I think it's safe to say that favors won't be missed much.
I have a hard time explaining this to people. I am very excited for my wedding. I'm excited to have a big party and wear a gorgeous dress and marry the man I love. But. The thought that the wedding might be, "wedding-y" - to the point where it can't be distinguished from any other wedding, is the polar opposite of what I'd like. I'm not going to have 5 bridesmaids. My hair will not be in an updo. There will be neither programs nor favors. My wonderful groom may purchase his attire - it probably will not be a tux because he doesn't like them.
Don't get me wrong. Updos, a bridal party of ten, tux rentals, and programs are not really a huge issue. They're good, wedding-y things that work very well for most people. They just don't work for me.
And when I see checklists detailing how to execute a cookie cutter wedding that just ain't for me - oye.
