Now that you know how we met, I feel comfortable telling you that I've been having some trouble planning my wedding. Note that I didn't say "our" wedding, because that's not how I fly. As one of my b'maids said: "You are the CEO of this wedding, and Josh is the VP."
In our case VP is a mostly symbolic title. He started with some responsibilities, but I've had to strip them away, one by one. Hey, it's better than getting fired.
At the beginning of this whole process, Josh told me he had only one desire for his wedding: tiny sandwiches. You know, those little buns they set out at graduation parties along with a tray of lunch meats and cheeses and a bowl of butter. I said I didn't want tiny sandwiches at my wedding, and how about "Tiny Dancer" instead? He said, and I quote*: "No tiny sandwiches, no wedding. To you or anyone else."
So I caved on the tiny sandwiches. I thought that when the time came, we could hide the tiny sandwiches under a picnic table during the wedding and then feed them to the Cat Guards the next day. I thought I could handle one insane request from the groom.
That was before I had heard about his lifelong dream of an Acura cake. Or of his rhythmic dance routine to "Lady" by Styx.
So, now I'm taking a little more of the ownership of this wedding, and when you arrive at our reception and find a cake shaped like an Acura (the Legend, not some ugly RDX—I have my standards) and think about how much crazier things could have been, you'll thank me. But as CEO of WedPower Inc., I'm finding that Goethe was right: With great power comes great responsibility. And I'm not really sure I'm up to this. To wit, when the heat was on to pick our theme colors, I picked twelve. They're all lovely, but having twelve colors does complicate matters, especially since I only have three b'maids. (They will each have to wear four colors—two on the dress, one on the shoes, and the last color on splendidly large hats. It's okay, because I'm told that bridesmaids are supposed to look ridiculous.) Other bad decisions being considered: crashing the wedding so we can get hitched sooner, having the wedding on a dirigible, letting Josh sing a ballad during the cocktail hour. Also, I am 100 percent sure that I want to make the cake myself and buy the flowers from Costco.
Clearly, I am out of my league. So far my response has been to lie very still and hope that if I don't bring up the wedding, no one else will notice I haven't planned anything. It's not working at all. It's time for me to start envisioning the wedding of my dreams (only with Josh as the groom). So I called in the maids and got the Mostly Conclusive, Sometimes Accurate Wedding Style Test which I will be sharing with you in a coming post. Stay tuned!
*I never actually quote, because I don't have the kind of memory that remembers things accurately, per se.
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5 comments:
I love it! The booths at the Outback in Edgewater are PERFECT for wedding planning and sabotaging tiny sandwiches. If you need a ride, I can steel the keys, or hijack the car. Or David could just drive us.
Hey – what if I make spelling errors in these comments. Are you guys going to snicker?
I hope I don't accidentally link to you out of sheer desire to share you with the world. Bribes come in the form of red wine. Or chocolate mud pies and burgers. Or you could make this thing private.
We won't snicker. Actually, Josh will snicker. I won't notice. That is why you're friends with me, not him.
Can we bribe you with a bloomin' onion once we get to Outback??
I don't snicker. I'm above that. I'm a really, really nice person.
That's true...Josh is pretty nice and he doesn't actually snicker.
He does however emit a noise that sounds a lot like, "chyeah..." This is followed by the sound of keyboard keys correcting the offending error. Since he can't edit the comments, I'm guessing he just makes that "chyeah..." noise and moves on...perhaps commenting that he learned excellent grammar and spelling skills in high school in addition to lettering in cross-country.
Kisses.
Chyeah...!
Yes! Bribes are welcome, but we have sworn off the bloomin' onion, finally admitting that it looses (shoot, one o or two in looses...one, since you lost the other o) correction: loses its flavor after two bites and needs lots of salt. They do, however, sell a really mean brownie sunday.
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