So here I am, trying to think of how I can make my man more comfortable as he slaves over the computer, eyeballs twitching, in a state of prolonged sleepiness. I could let him continue on in front of this blank screen until his eyeballs explode, but I am a lady who likes to help out when I can. I have sent him to his room for some rest, and I have commandeered the blog, and am charging full speed ahead with wedding news.
If you have been living under a rock for the past 6 months, you may not realize that Birdman and I are planning our impending nuptials in a little more than 6 months. Holy shit. SIX months? I just had a wave of panic about all the crap that I haven’t done yet. I imagine it hits most brides somewhere along the planning stage, but this SHIT IS REALLY GOING TO HAPPEN! I am the type of person who hates being pinned down, and I let most plans make themselves, but this type of laissez-faire attitude does not go over well in the wedding world. Every day I am fielding questions about our plans, and although I have some vague answers, mostly I am shocked that people remember or even care.
Birdman and I were going to hit the tuxedo place this week to figure out what he will be wearing at the Blessed Event, but one thing led to another and we blew it off. Seriously, we are not going to be able to keep doing this. Shit needs to get decided. We have half a dozen grooms-people (Hi Yvette!) who need some instruction about attire and who are going to need this info soon. At least half of them will have no problem going naked if something isn’t figured out soon. Well, maybe not naked, but certainly in shorts and flip flops.
My maid of honour (should I have capitalized that? It seems somewhat major…) has already got a line on her gorgeous, pink chiffon dress and she may have actually ordered it by now. My mini-me’s (who have flatly refused to be flower girls) will need some sort of matching frocks since they are Jr. BM’s. (That’s bridesmaids, for those of you not up on your wedding-lingo). I guess I should start thinking about that too.
There is also food and booze to be considered. I have half-assed lined up a caterer, and we have some big plans for a run for the Quebec border for the mother of all beer runs in the spring. I know for sure the beer will get taken care of, because there are enough men in our circle of friends to guarantee it. I guess the rest will sort itself out, right?
The truth is, every time I start thinking of starting to consider making solid plans, I see something shiny and my train of thought is permanently derailed. I need Oprah, or Dr. Phil or maybe even Maury Povich to knock some sense into me and get my ass in gear. In fact, there is a good chance our guests may roll up to a wedding party in rags, drinking cheap beer and eating chips casually dumped into wicker bowls. (We’ll use napkins to line them…we’re NOT barbarians!) Would that bother anyone? If it did, they likely wouldn’t have made the guest list anyhow.
I am really just looking forward to the greatest party I have ever thrown. Those of you who attended my first wedding may recall my brother leaving the party in an ambulance and my aunt bitch-slapping my new step-monster-in-law in the parking lot. There is more, but the gag-order decrees I am not to mention any of it. Yeah, I’m definitely not looking for a repeat of my first big party, and maybe that’s where some of this anxiety comes from. I realize people are going to have a good time, and there will be so much love that nothing like that will happen this time. Still, I am keeping our Best Man on double duty as a bouncer. He’s about 10 feet tall and I guarantee you won’t want to mess with him if you’ve slugged back a few too many whiskeys. Call me superstitious, but I like to think of Joe as my ace-in-the-hole for the party that threatens to get a bit too jiggy.
You are the wind beneath my wings,