As many of you know, I did not want a wedding. Or at least, I had convinced myself that I did not want a wedding. When Preston and I decided to get engaged, worried about the cost and the time and the energy and MY LIFE, I proposed that we elope, and then throw a big party for all of our friends in ten years, when we would have time and a house and SALARIES. This proposal, however, was not answered favorably. Preston was insistent that he wanted a real, bona fide wedding; he wanted the music and the readings and the cake and the people and the flowers and the everything.
After a lot of tears and pseudo-arguments (Preston and I don't really have arguments, knock on wood...we have annoyances), and words of wisdom from my friend Margaret ("One day, even if you can't see it now, you WILL want to have had a gorgeous wedding. Think of the future."), I agreed to forge ahead with Project: Wedding.
What has helped me enormously in coping with this whole wedding brouhaha is remembering that this wedding is not about me. Don't get me wrong--I've picked the flowers, the food, the dresses, the music, the everything. What I mean is that this wedding is about something bigger than me; it's about our families coming together. It's about giving my Grandmother a wedding that she can feel proud to attend. It's about including all the people (even if Preston and I have never met them...) that Gussie wants to share this day with, and being excited about it. And somehow, when I think about the wedding in that light, all of bullshit and time and energy that goes along with planning a 200+ person wedding has been a lot easier to manage.
One thing that IS bothering me is how my classmates and old teachers greeted me at my 5 year high school reunion. Please let me vent: In the last year, I have earned a bachelor's degree, moved to a new city, gotten a dog, and won a fellowship to a PhD program, but the first question out of nearly everyone's mouth (except for an old history teacher of mine, who told me that I was much more than this marriage. He wins the prize.) when I saw them at St. Catherine's was some version of: "When's the big day?" or "How are the plans coming along" or "OOOOH You must be so excited!!!" or "Tell me everything about the wedding. [insert five bajillion questions regarding flowers and dresses]."
Granted, when I know that someone's gotten engaged/getting married/had a baby I'm pretty sure that the first question out of my mouth is something related to that person's engagement/marriage/baby, but WOW I'll be a lot more conscious of it from now on. Because I know I'm more than a bride, and to be honest, I've been a pretty bad bride so far anyway. And at this point, I have my wedding speech down pat: "I'mwearingmygrandmother'sdressandmymom'sveilandmycolorsaresilverandnavyandthewedding'satst.stephen'sand reverendwellsisofficiatingandthereceptionisatmymom'shouseandprestonandiwillliveinbrynmawr...etc."
But, save that tiny reunion annoyance (more on the reunion later), I'm really getting pretty pumped for this wedding. I can't wait to see everyone, to hear the music, to see the flowers, to wear my pretty dresses, to frantically think of 'something blue,' to laugh, cry, etc. etc. etc. I'm just really excited. Finally.
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