Technically, we’re missing spring by a day or two. The wedding date is June 23rd, which is just across the official spring/summer border.
But there’s plenty of horror to write home about, and it’s all occurring during the season of spring!
To set the stage, you should know that the wedding my bride and I are preparing covers two nightmarish scenarios. First, we are planning a wedding that will occur in another town, making it a long-distance planning. Second, we are planning it ourselves without the help of a professional. To be more specific, my fiance is doing virtually all of the planning herself.
Our current horror story involves our enormous batch of do-it-yourself invitations. They look lovely, and my fiance has created these gorgeous invitations from scratch. The downside? They are driving her insane and only require 147 steps to complete. Each invitation involves elaborate machine cutting, hand-pasting, tying a fancy ribbon, and including comprehensive RSVP information, all of which was agonized over to perfection.
We have not seen the surface of our living room coffee table for a month. We shove invitation accoutrement aside on our dining room table to be able to eat. Snippets of ribbon and paper litter the carpet. Our bank accounts leak cash like a sieve.
We shop frequently, almost daily, searching for deals. Clearance sales. We have a good idea of what we want, and eventually a sale will “free up” items on our wish list. My fiance scours the Internet for downloadable coupons and hunts for bargains in stores. By now, the employees at Hobby Lobby, Michael’s, and Dillards know us well. We purchase, return, purchase again, and need alterations. Our feet have grown sore treading through the mall and standing in customer service lines.
A second horror story involves long-distance planning. The photographers, florists, and other professionals we are using to help ensure our ceremony and reception go without a hitch are located in Lubbock, far from our home in Midland. It seems that every Friday my fiance is driving north to to this larger city, 115 miles away, to accomplish some errand. This means big bucks spent on gas, hours spent languishing between awkwardly-timed meetings and events, and time taken away from the hands-on work of creating decor, invitations, and shopping trips for wedding supplies. The trips break up our wedding planning rhythm and drain our cash flow with equal viciousness.
Then there’s our wedding website! Oh, the horror of supposedly easy-to-make wedding websites…they sucker you in and, when you need them to function, they don’t work as advertised. My fiance and I found out the hard way that our wedding website did not allow guests to RSVP online, forcing us to muster all of our digital knowledge in a late-night brainstorming session a few days after our first batch of wedding invitations went out. After I jerry-rigged an RSVP page through another webpage, my sweet fiance figure out how to create a much better version. Exhausted, we adjourned to bed.
That night, I threw my first wedding tantrum. My fiance, usually as sweet as sugary rainbows, had already thrown several. “We should have eloped!” we both exclaimed bitterly, dreaming of Las Vegas nights and exchanging vows without worrying about hosting scores of people we hope to impress.
But now there is light at the of this labor-intensive tunnel! My sweetheart and I are on the cusp of getting our tabletops back. The RSVPs are rolling in. There is a feeling of confidence about our ceremony and reception being beautiful and enchanting.
We really don’t want Vegas after all.