Wedding Planning Tales From Hell

Wedding planning is so annoying.  It isn’t fun anymore.  It was fun for several months and now it ain’t. We were planning a fun retro wedding at the soul museum and now since the incident on NYE with his oldest daughter, well, I want immediate family only in the living room.  To be honest it wasn’t just that incident, that was just the straw that broke my bridezilla back.   

 

 

 

Honestly, at some point over Christmas, I realized that I was exhausted from the holidays and that holidays are supposed to be fun.  Then I thought, “You know what else is supposed to be fun?  Our wedding.”   That was followed immediately by, “OMG, I’m going to be exhausted.”  I realized that getting married at 50 is nothing like getting married at 32.   

When I was 32 do you know what I had to worry about?

 

 

NOTHING.  Zip, Nada, Just myself.

Now, I was not a bridezilla, but I was totally self centered and didn’t worry about a thing.  I had a job, a house, and a momma  that took care of every little detail and a daddy that wrote the checks.  I have no idea who set up the chairs or tablecloths and I have NO DAMN CLUE who took them all down again.

When it was over, I threw my bouquet and Stanley and I exited the building in a flurry of bubbles.

 

 

 

Now I’m 50 and it isn’t my momma’s job to do that stuff and it isn’t my daddy’s job to pay.

It occurred to me that I was going to be wearing lots of hats, doing it all by myself (sorry Al, but I will), worrying about kids, parents, Al’s visiting family,  weird family dynamics, trying to look pretty, trying to make sure my house and yard were perfect for all these visitors, and all that shit was going to be me, me, me.  Me in a quite different way than when I was 32.  I will be wearing lots of hats:  I will be bride, mom (most important), stepmom (must be done perfectly so as to start off on a good foot), hostess

as opposed to last time when I was only the bride.

I saw flashes of what it could be like… kids upset and having meltdowns, me running all over town and trying to set everything up myself,  dragging myself in front of the officiant with my dress skirt tucking into my panties and lipstick on my teeth.

 I exhausted myself just thinking about it.  

What I want:  a meaningful, joyous day to say vows to the love of my life. 

What it is going to be like: 

 

 

So now I am in the arduous process of trying to talk the groom (zilla) into a smaller intimate wedding.

He’s killing me.   This is how it is going and this is a cut and paste job.: