Well, here I am. I am here. What a relief, right? I KNOW. You'll all sleep soundly for the first time in
*checking last post date*
*checking my math*
Yes, twelve days.
We're officially within a month of the Big Event (and no, I am not referring to my first Brazilian wax because that would be UNPROFESSIONAL), and my brain is officially doing kickboxing drills. Just for fun. When it needs to relax.
This whole planning a wedding thing is a contradiction of emotions because HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO EXCITING and OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO BE MRS. GRAY, but also FUCK THIS IS A LOT OF WORK and FUUUUCK THIS IS EXPENSIVE and DO I REALLY HAVE TO MAKE ALL OF THESE DECISIONS because TEALIGHTS OR VOTIVES, PEOPLE?!?!?!
I am having so much fun. Hell, WE are having so much fun, Gray and I and my friends and family and probably the criminals who have stolen our life savings in exchange for satin bows that we HAVE TO RETURN, but damn. This is fun. And also exhausting.
Not physically exhausting because despite my desire to slim down for the wedding, I'm absolutely opposed to actually moving from my spot on the couch which is conveniently located by my personal stash of Chex Mix and Pinot Grigio. My brilliant scheme for last-minute slimming down is to pile so many dozens of mental minutia onto my plate that my body forgets that it's hungry for actual food and doesn't eat for a week. It's actually killing two birds with one stone, if you ask me, in that I'll be losing those last couple of pounds at the same time that I'm losing my last couple of brain cells, and then I'll be a happy-go-lucky zombie bride, which everyone knows is Gray's Ultimate Fantasy.
My brain hurts like somebody removed it via my ear, kneaded 4,000 tiny glass slivers into its mass, and then shot it back into place with a potato gun. There are so many details I hadn't anticipated (where is everyone staying? when do they arrive? have I remembered to send everyone invites to the rehearsal dinner? do I rent mirror squares or tiny mirror tiles for the tables? how long will it take to get my hair and makeup done? when should everyone arrive? HOW DO I KNOW IF I'M GOING INSANE?) and I've decided that the entire wedding day is going to last indefinitely, that I am going to stretch it out for at least the next dozen years, and everyone will keep dancing and eating cake and complimenting my breathtaking beauty and giving us vodka shots and handing us cash...this will last forever because the only way I'm going to get my money's worth is if our wedding day NEVER ENDS.
Our wedding will be like the Hotel California, except with more polka and fewer courtyards.
It's going to be everything that Gray and I ever hoped or dreamed it could be, and thankfully we figured out a way to do it all without having to sell our kidneys or our hot, hot sex, but wow. I must say I'll be a little relieved when the whole thing is over and I am Mrs. Gray and Gray is Big Papa and we pack up our camping gear and gently lift our old dog on the backseat along with his very own doggy Radio Flyer wagon and head out on the open road to All Points West for a week of R&R, not knowing where we're going or what we're doing, only that we're a family and we're under no obligations and we're on vacation and we're happy.
It's a lot of pressure, throwing a party for everyone you've ever known. Which explains, if you haven't yet heard, why Trader Joe's opened a new liquor store in my area funded solely by my patronage.
You're welcome, Charles Shaw.