There's this buzzing in my ear right now, and it's going something like this: call the caterers // have you emailed the rental place yet // oh my god what if nobody comes // what if everybody shows up at three-thirty instead of four // we will never have any money again // it's going to rain // itsnotgoingtorainITSGOINGTOHAIL.
This is my brain when it's been set to "wedding."
Before I got engaged, I used to roll my eyes at brides who were like, "People are being mean about the seating arrangements!" I'd think all these self-congratulatory thoughts about who people were going to sit where I damn well told them to sit, or else. And since then, I've been sat so far away from the head table that I was practically outside - and this, admittedly, stank - and I've looked morosely at my own seating chart and hoped that my cousins, who are fun, aren't P.O.'ed that I've basically done the same thing to them.
A rundown of the crazy things I've done so far:
- bought crazy-expensive childrens' sandals from Italy because they fit my stupidly tiny feet.
- nodded as my parents offered to buy a new fridge so that we would have a place to store cold beer in a barn.
- had my hair done like a Viking warrior-woman, only the end result was more 1960s beehive, and I hated it.
- hauled about three thousand pounds of poop-dusted hay out of the barn where we're holding the reception.
- build stone stairs, using a pickaxe and my bare hands. Like, literally: my bare hands. It was very paleo-home decorating chic, if I do say so myself.
- said the words "radiant orchid" out loud approximately one million times.
- debated how much booze is enough booze, how much Elton John is enough Elton John, and how many tacos is enough tacos.
- cried at schmaltzy poems on the internet.
- had screaming fights with M, sometimes about things that should be lovely (the words, "I can't believe we're fighting about our fucking vows" have definitely been said, by me, horribly).
- listened to Bank's song "This Is What It Feels Like" about three hundred times, which is how many times I would put it on our dance mix if I thought I could get away with it.
- tried to explain to at least three girlfriends that, yes, while this is "my special day," I'm actually sort of nervous about being the center of all that attention. My star isn't that shiny, y'know.
- tried on about fifty puffy princess ballgowns at The Bride's Project, which was stupid-fun while being completely wrong for me, style-wise.
- biked home holding three plastic bus bins in my outstretched hand; it a feat that I wouldn't have even attempted six months ago for fear of accidentally windsailing myself into traffic, butnow ain't no thang.
- promised my friend that, if she ever wanted to elope, I would still buy her a bread maker.
- wondered what would happen if we decided to elope.
