Friends Don’t Let Friends Eat Onions on Their Wedding Day

Ted: Wow, thanks for being so cool about this ’cause you know Claudia said…
Stuart: Yeah, yeah, yeah… This morning at the rehearsal, Claudia called our 7-year-old flower girl a whore. So, don’t take it personally, she’s just a little stressed. –How I Met Your Mother

Guest blogger:
Diary of B

A few months ago Date Girl did a little guest posting for me while I was on my honeymoon, so I thought it would be fun to pay back the favor. In honor of her upcoming wedding, I thought I could talk a little bit about my own wedding. I hope you guys enjoy, and thanks to Date Girl for allowing me to hijack her blog!

Wedding planning is like an emotional roller coaster. It is exciting! It is stressful! One minute you are celebrating, and the next minute you are on the floor crying over seating charts and having to glue 50 billion rhinestones on your invitations. OK so I wasn’t the type of bride to have a wedding involving seating charts or rhinestone invitations, but the point still stands.

Wedding planning can turn even the most calm, level-headed lady into a “Bridezilla.” Although I never became a bridezilla, I just didn’t have the meanness in me. But I did turn into a little bit of a Cry-zilla and a whole lot of a Panic-zilla. Here is a list of my top freak-out moments. It may be best that I tell you now that I am a highly neurotic person and a complete worry wart.

Four Months till the Wedding:

My fiancé Adam and I are at our friends’ house to drop off some items that we had burrowed. These friends happen to be a charming gay couple who apparently know much more about wedding planning than I do. They proceed to innocently quiz me on my wedding plans, but it makes me feel like I am facing a firing squad. They ask me about my wedding colors. At that point, I had only picked one color and didn’t plan on having two. But their suggestion that I should have two colors sent me into a blind panic. And even though Adam and I didn’t get home that night until after midnight, he wasn’t allowed to go to bed until after we had decided on our second color. I was convinced my wedding would be terrible and that the world would end if we didn’t find the perfect color to match clover green before the morning.

Three Months till the Wedding:

It is time to register for stuff, a.k.a wedding gifts. I’ve always wanted to register for wedding gifts (those price guns get me all kinds of excited), but when I walk into the store I am overwhelmed by all the choices. I’ve never been good at making choices. Now I am being forced to decide which waffle maker would be best for us. And I feel like if I chose the wrong waffle maker, there could be dire consequences. And what about those cork screws, do we even need a cork screw? If I don’t register for a cork screw will the people looking at our registry think we’re not sophisticated because we obviously don’t drink wine? But if we add the corkscrew will people think we have a drinking problem? And if I just ignore the home appliances and run straight to the clothing section will they think I am selfish because it is not a present for 'us'. Even worse, I actually request some sexy lingerie which is technically for 'us', and they all think I have a sex problem? Or maybe a greedy bride! And Holy Wedding Gifts, Batman! If people buy us all these gifts we will have no room for them in our tiny house. The boxes of stuff will pile up, and we will never be able to move because we won’t be able to get out from under all our stuff. And when we have children, they will get lost in the maze of boxes that has become our life. We won’t be able to give away, toss, or sell any of the stuff because they were gifts and that would be rude! So one day you would be watching me on that show Hoarders. At this point in the thought process, I turned to Adam and said, “Can we leave now? The thought of all this stuff is suffocating me!”

Two Months till the Wedding:

I am flying to my hometown in Alabama because my friends are throwing me a bridal shower. I decide to bring my wedding dress with me, so my mom can just bring it to the wedding, and I wouldn’t have so much to travel with when my wedding rolled around. I board my first flight, hang up my dress in the garment closet, and go to take my seat in coach. After glaring at the lucky ducks in first class, I discover that for some reason my seat actually does not exist. Not that someone is sitting in my seat; it is just non-existent! The flight attendant tells me to talk to the front desk lady, so I de-board the plane and the front desk lady informs me they switched planes due to mechanical problems, and I got bumped. She wants to put me on a different flight, which is fine by me, but my dress is still on the plane! They are not allowing me to re-board the plane as a security measure. Don’t they understand that I’m not a terrorist threat, just a very anxious bride-to-be? I am tearing up and they are trying to contact the flight attendant. There are many tense minutes, and I’m just picturing my dress ending up in some airport’s lost and found. But then like a ray of light sent form heaven above, the flight attendant emerges with my dress. I wanted to ask her where she hid her angel wings.

One Month till the Wedding:

I have just confirmed how many people are coming to the wedding. I have about 90 guests and the venue can only hold about 100. One morning I get a call from my grandmother and she asks if she can give out an open invitation to all of her friends in her Christian sorority. There are about 70 people in her sorority. This means that even if just 11 of her friends decide to attend, we are in trouble. But what am I supposed to do? Tell my grandmother she can’t invite the fellow members of her blue-haired ladies club? Yeah right. So I tell my grandma to invite them all to the wedding, and also let them know to feel free to fill up on second and third helpings of our already paid-per-head dinner! OK so I really didn’t say that, but I thought it.

One Week till the Wedding:

I am getting all my wedding stuff packed and my veils have pulled a disappearing act. I have torn through my house like a Texas tornado, and I still can’t find it. I’m on the verge of a complete supernova meltdown. I call my mom and make her search through her entire house to see if I left it there. She doesn’t find it. I am now officially hyperventilating. Next, I call my poor grandmother and send her on a wild goose chase around her house (hey, that is what happens to grandmothers who invite 100 of their nearest and dearest friends to your wedding). She doesn’t find it, and my supernova meltdown begins. I am a freak-out mess, I can’t afford new veils! My mom keeps telling me to call the bridal store and see if they will give me some replacement veils. I think her idea is ridiculous, it is my fault I lost it, but I call anyway. Only to find I left my veils at the store three months earlier during a fitting. The bag had been sitting on the floor in the alteration room the whole time with my NAME and NUMBER on it. Couldn’t they have given a girl a phone call?

The Day of the Wedding:

It is two o’clock in the afternoon, and I am hanging with my bridesmaids while they get their hair done. I make the comment that I had been so busy running around all day, that I hadn’t eaten anything. My bridesmaids insist that I have to eat something, so they run down to Sonic and buy me a burger. I don’t think twice about my burger having onions on it, until I get to our venue and my mom tells me I smell like onions. Now all I can think about is how I’m going to be the girl smelling of onions on her wedding day. And in the words of Darleen from the movie The Little Rascals, I say burping onions on your wedding day is just, “So Romantical.” What kinds of bridesmaids don’t protect you from onions? I’m chalking this one up to an act of bridesmaid sabotage. By the way, I took a shower, so I was onion free on my wedding day. That made my day much more romantical.

I wanted to finish this post by wishing you a wonderful wedding day. Here’s a toast to your marriage being filled with more days that you want to hug each other, than days you want to kill each other.

Fear of RSVP Cards

So, like, right now for example. The Haitians need to come to America. But some people are all, “What about the strain on our resources?” Well, it’s like when I had this garden party for my father’s birthday, right? I put R.S.V.P. ’cause it was a sit-down dinner. But some people came that, like, did not R.S.V.P. I was, like, totally buggin.’ I had to haul ass to the kitchen, redistribute the food and squish in extra place settings. But by the end of the day it was, like, the more the merrier. And so if the government could just get to the kitchen, rearrange some things, we could certainly party with the Haitians. And in conclusion, may I please remind you it does not say R.S.V.P. on the Statue of Liberty. Thank you very much. -Cher, Clueless

Hi Everybody!! I’m E from over at Adventures Of Starting Over.

When Date Girl asked if anyone could guest blog while she was gone I had to say yes seeing as she has been so nice as to guest blog for me before [and probably will again in the near future when my Marine gets back from Deployment…. she just doesn’t know it yet 🙂 ].

Both Date Girl and I are currently planning weddings so what better topic to cover in today’s post.

When it comes to weddings it all boils down to a simple fact: all brides are different.

And even though they are all different they all have one common goal, they want their wedding to be perfect and unique.

Date Girl and I are both Virgos and usually joke about our Virgo tendencies of organization and over annal planning tendencies. Mix those qualities in with planning a wedding and you would think you had a bridezilla on your hands.

But that has not been the case…… yet (there’s still time for the transformation to take place).

In planning though I’ve realized that my Virgo skills have left me high and dry. Where Date Girl is counting every RSVP card, I’m the type of bride that won’t even send out RSVP cards because they scare me.

Scared???!!! Of an RSVP card, you ask.

I know. I’m strange.

But hear me out. You receive an invitation months in advance. You are asked to return it saying whether you will attend or not at some set date within a few months. I’m not a mind reader…. what if I say yes but then something comes up and I can’t attend? Then they have paid for my seat when in reality it will be empty.

Or what if I decline and then turns out I could have went but can’t because I already said I wouldn’t be coming?

See the thought of a RSVP card gives me instant anxiety.

What if I make the wrong decision??

So I at this point I don’t plan on sending RSVP cards out….. I say that now but my wedding isn’t until May so I could change my mind. When inviting people I will already know a rough count of who will come and who probably won’t.

The more the merrier.

Maybe I’m being too laid back? Perhaps.

Hopefully my next guest post won’t be about my bridesmaids tying me up because I went all bridezilla at the last moment.  🙂

Tell us your wedding stories!! Do you fear RSVP cards? What was your bridezilla moment when planning??

Four Weeks of FUN

Monica: Do you realize that we’re getting married in just four weeks? Four weeks, baby, FOUR WEEKS!
Chandler: Do you realize that you get louder every week?-Friends

I can’t believe it’s August 2nd. In exactly one month and one day I will be walking down the grassy aisle scattered with fall leaves to marry my Match Guy! I’m getting teary eyed just thinking about it.

Remember I told you all I had lots of fun things planned for August? Well August is here, wahoo! Tonight is the Miranda Lambert concert and a long overdue date night with Match. Miranda (we’re old friends on a first name basis right?) is singing at our county fair so we’re getting there early so we can enjoy the fair before the concert.

The last time I went to a fair with Match was the summer we first met. That’s when he came home with me and we went to my home county fair. This will be our first fair experience in California together. I’m already fantasizing about fair food.

In wedding planning news: We’re still waiting on 28 people to RSVP. I’m hoping most of them say no. They’re all friends of Future MIL and I’ve never even met them. Plus if they don’t show up we’ll be under budget which would be a dream come true! As soon as I get the final RSVPs in I can go to town with my box cutter, cutting out and making escort cards. That should only take a few hours to finish. Besides that I’m DONE. Now we just have to pay for everything. I’m not thrilled about that part. 😉

This Saturday will be my hair and makeup trial for the big day and then we’re heading to Carmel that afternoon! I’m so excited to spend five days by the beach with Match! His parents will be there too, but we should get a lot of quality one on one time too. I’m looking forward to bonfires on the beach, running in the sand with Monkey, and snuggling up to Match while we sip on gin and tonics.

I’ve got a couple of guest bloggers lined up to entertain you while I’m gone. Anyone else have any August vacations planned?

Post it Note Thursday-Man Period

The sole and absolute male counterpart to pms in females. Multiple changes in behaviour(s) at various times in the month is characteristic of this affliction. Symptoms Include: -fear of reality -abrupt irritibility -unwillingness to solve problems -inconsiderate, yet expects you to be excessively considerate to his feelings -displays momentary regression back to childish nature(‘little boy syndrome’) -argumentative but totally still wants to sleep with/do you @ the end of the day -onset of inwardness -inconsiderate, yet expects you to be excessively considerate to his feelings -sporadic moments where he cares again, but doesnt actually mean it -failure to initiate the apology and or admitting wrongfulness -purposely goes out of the way to frustrate others(*See ‘little boy syndrome’ above; ie. If he’s miserable, EVERYONE else has to be) -clearly shows signs of holding onto young man angst(and all things EMO) and behaving like such a little douchebag because of it -the OPPOSITE of helpful-Man Period Definition,