I used to wish bad things on my enemies. Ya know, things like XXL Spanx, ARM mortgages and soccer mom hair. But that was before I discovered what real punishment felt like. Now I find myself hoping my enemies will one day have to plan a wedding. And, if they’re the kind of enemies that make me fantasize about better times, when meetings at the flag pole resolved everything, then I wish they have to plan a wedding on my budget. The same budget theknot.com probably recommends for centerpieces.
We’re not having fun. Neither is our celebrity wedding planner, who you might know as Venus. We’re driving her nuts, but — in our defense — it’s only because we get sick of driving each other nuts so we have to find an innocent third party to pick up in our wedding planning car and put the pedal to the metal so we can drive them very fast to a destination called NUTS.
We thought we found a venue over Labor Day weekend. And then we didn’t find it. We thought we had a caterer. And then we discovered a thing called tax and gratuity. I thought I knew how much I had to spend on a dress. And then I found myself surfing used wedding gown sites. We thought we’d refuse to acknowledge the “budge” in budget. And then Jake was on the phone with his parents.
For probably the fifth time since wedding planning commenced, Jake and I had a familiar conversation last week. It’s called the “Do we really WANT to do this” talk. It used to be called the “Do we really HAVE to do this” shoot out. Now the volume has lowered and I think the blood pressure also has. I finally accepted last week that if we don’t have a wedding then we don’t have a wedding. I think I even got to a point where I preferred it.
Jake and I said from the beginning that if we can’t do it the way we want then we won’t do it at all. With a modestly-raised budget and the kind of creative thinking that only seems to come along when you can’t afford something you want, we’re giving it one last shot. If we can’t make it happen then we’ll focus strictly on making a marriage, not a wedding, happen.
I’m just sorry our celebrity wedding planner has to come along for the ride that I can only compare to the Wild Mouse at Lagoon amusement park in Farmington, Utah. Thanks for being so patient, Venus. I totally understand if you want to scream the whole way through and then puke at the end of this.