So now that we were Engaged, with a capital E, official as can be, a very frightening realization slapped me across the face: I had to plan a wedding.
Now, I should explain something right here: I love weddings, in theory. As a little girl, I would dress my Barbies up in wedding gowns and recite the vows to Ken by heart. I'm a sap for a happy ending in any movie. When my little sister got married, I cried. However, weddings in actuality are a completely different thing. I never ever imagined the dress I would wear or the flowers on the tables or what music would play me down the aisle. So you can imagine how daunting the prospect of having to actually care about all these things was.
When I made the "we're engaged!" phone calls the very first thing out of every single person's mouth (after congratulations) was "When's the wedding?!" This made me nervous, as I had only been engaged for approximately forty-five minutes. In the following days, the questions expanded exponentially: "Where is the wedding? What are your colors? What is your theme?" Excuse me? I had to have "colors"? And a "theme"? I thought the wedding was the theme!
I had a mini-panic attack. I didn't know where to begin! I called my sister, who I assumed could plan my wedding for me because she had already been through all this. But, because she is so sweet, she was afraid of taking over and so told me she would help me with absolutely anything I asked, but she refused to take the lead. Sigh. I called my mom, who immediately rattled off fifty bajillion things that had to be done in the coming months. I know she was giving me what I asked for--direction--but it was too much too soon. So I calmly told her thank you for the help, but I had to get off the phone before I hyperventilated. She was very understanding.
The next stop: 7-11. I needed two things: major caffeine, and wedding magazines. I had seen them staring up at me from the grocery store check-out, with the smiling, impossibly cheerful brides, and knew therein lay my salvation. So I got a coffee the size of my head and an armload of magazines and returned home with a new resolve. I began earmarking pages and circling things I liked.
Finally, I started to get excited about the wedding. I had been excited about the marriage from the start, but for the first time, the wedding itself started to seem like an adventure. You mean I get to choose whatever I want? It's up to me? All these flowers, all these dresses, I can pick? I was starting to feel like a kid in the proverbial candy store...so many flavors, I hardly knew where to start--but in a good way. Doors opened before me, rainbows painted the horizon, butterflies took flight. This, I decided, just might be the beginning of a really exciting (and, ok, slightly terrifying) ride.
