Alright. I admit I have never been one of "those people" who has visualized her wedding day. And I very much doubt that if that day ever comes, I will be a bridezilla. The day may come and I'll be like, "Where am I supposed to be? And who am I marrying?" I see my friends doing spreadsheets and religiously watching/reading The Knot and participating in chat groups, snapping at each other, and generally stressed about it all. I guess the spreadsheet thing makes sense since most of my friends pay for the wedding themselves now (my parent's wouldn't be able to give me the $30,00-40,000 it requires to throw a decent DC wedding). But I'm not that good with the "budget thing" so if my guy wants to tally away - be my guest!
But let's be clear on what I DO know will happen at my wedding:
1. Lots and lots of booze.
2. Late night partying with my favorite people.
3. Music all night long.
4. A very pretty dress for me and the girls and two shoe changes!
5. The best photographer that money can buy.
Here is where I am fuzzy:
1. Where? Destination? Or a little chapel on the beach? The church in DC my parents married in (which I, admittedly, have always thought about as a little girl)?
2. The walking down the aisle thing...my momma?
3. The groom!!!
Alright. Alright. From the sounds of this post you might think I have wedding bells queued on my ipod, or that some dashing young man is promising to make me an honest woman and give me back rubs for the rest of my life, or, quite simply, that love is in the air (like my previous posts and my absence might imply).
I hear no wedding bells anywhere - I only hear bagpipes.
And there is no nice young man with strong arms and a strong heart within my galaxy. Can I come over to yours?
So I'm just going to say it now so we are all up to speed on Boa's Crash and Burn Version 26.2 and a half. But I am not going to give an explanation and I am not going to wax on....but Pompadour...is finito. Off like a dirty shirt. And that is all that we need to know going forward. Great! More posts about decorating!
And so, I am standing on my bar stool, vodka in hand (and not the gay stoli O and soda, but Belvedere), scanning the room, shouting, "Next!"
[Ed. Note and Mel, Alice and Flo's instructions too: Do not go to a diner and order an egg white omelet and get mad if they can't oblige you. Honey. You do not want to see the greasy-shirted, pot-bellied, spatula-waving reason why!]
So, I was on the subject of my fantasy wedding.....where for art thou Husband? Just kidding! Seriously, I am thinking of getting a dog. Seriously. [We can't get a dog! -- Mav.] So what if it cramps my lifestyle. I am ready for a new chapter in my life that entails hanging out with my friends in my house - or their house; maybe playing dj; maybe playing Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, or Charades, hell, I'm even willing to keep playing I Never or Asshole; and drinking lots of wine and champagne and giving Miller Lites a rest [That's crazy talk! --Mav and Dear Prudence.] All of this with a little lap dog in a pink shirt at my feet, who follows me around and needs my undying attention. (And all my friends can make fun of me. Great!) Who can not live this world without me and he just might have a little quirk. Like maybe one eye is missing or his legs are deformed and he has to scoot around on his butt. Bottom line: He needs me!
OK. Maybe I do need a man. Oh! Did I mention Pompadour - the guy a week ago I was calling "sweet boy" - is now a ripped out page of Boa's Book of Love. There are only 3 pages in that book and one of them is even taped back in!
Alright. There I go with the tangential Me-talking and, oops, I talked about what I said I wasn't going to talk about anymore.
So...what I stepped up on this pulpit for was to share some very annoying wedding invitation I recently received. That's how I started out with the wedding jabber. Because it is simple, folks. What I DO know about "a" wedding is this: IT IS A PARTY....A CELEBRATION....SHARED WITH FRIENDS AND FAMILY. Do we agree on that? Great! Here is where we might start disagreeing - because if you are my friend whose wedding invitation I just received - you would be disagreeing. And you'd be wrong and I'd talk about you. First, MY goal at MY wedding is to make sure my guests are happy. Isn't that what you do when you throw a party? So since this is the biggest party you are probably every going to throw in your life what is the smallest thing you can do to make sure your guest will have a great time? Make sure they are comfortable! And since you most likely will not be able to hold their hand and rub their feet and carry them to the bathroom when they get drunk, maybe you should let them bring a date. Or not. Maybe they will choose not to but you should give them that option. I mean, we are 30-fucking years old.
Can you tell I'm mad? That is the only time I swear, I swear. Heh.
So I am not to bring a soul and I am to sit at a table with all our friends who are in relationships so they are invited with their significant others. I find it insulting. I have toyed with the idea of not going but I think I will - it is somewhat local (but way out in the suburbs) - and making them pay for my $20-30 plate - and that is all I intend on spending on the wedding gift. Because on top of this, I atttended the shower this past weekend and when the bride opened my gift, she paused on the name and had to look around the room of 12 to figure out who "Lara" was. Which is just WEIRD. I mean, I have known her for years. Bizarre.
And don't even get me started on who they didn't invite.
It is moot now because I am not bringing the Pompadour and I would never bring a random. But brides get to do what they want. The argument is that they are paying for your head to attend. But I am buying them some $100 wedding gift of something they already have because when you are in your 30's you already have sheets, wine glasses, and measuring spoons! Or is that just me? Because I haven't visualized my wedding? These might be people who have visualized their wedding AND their wedding gifts. Sent off to college: "Do not buy me sheets, I will get them when I get married!"
So I'm going to start visualizing now. But I am taking baby steps...I am just now visualizing the bartender, the KitchenAid mixer, and a pug named, Tom Ford For Gucci (pretentious) or Thurston Moore (rock and roll) or, simply, Clara Sophie (a namesake), if it is girl. Oh, and this just came to me: a champagne honeymoon in France!
Sigh. Sometimes I am just happier in my dreams...
[Editor's other note: And Pompadour hates France. Oh and he likes Bill O'Reilly. For being so rock and roll....Alright...talked out of him now, Loveless Loser?]