The Real Beginning

Perhaps this is where I should have started my recaps. The ceremony. The ritual. The moment of marriage. For us, the ceremony was so much more than a prelude to the reception. It was (and is) the time when our promises were made real. It was (and is) the crux of our wedding and the beginning of our marriage. Yes. This is the real beginning.

We started with a welcome and a prayer. And then, because we originate from a place of “yes,” we began the affirmations. I am a woman, a feminist, and an adult; I am no one’s gift to give away. But it was exceedingly important to my father and stepfather that they have the opportunity to affirm their support for the marriage. They did. Then the Mister and I affirmed that we intended to enter into the covenant of marriage, and we said our “I dos.” Right at the outset. Do you take this man? Do you take this woman? Yes. We do. Finally, we asked the congregation if they would give their encouragement. They did too.

Next, a bit more tradition and heritage. While I will always remain a part of my own family, I wanted to make an outward sign that I joined with my Mister’s family. So, in the ancient Scottish tradition, my mother in law, Momma Mac, pinned the Mister’s family tartan on my dress.

After which our celebrant read this prayer of thanksgiving by ee cummings:

i thank You God for most this amazing day:
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes

I’m going to interrupt the recap to give some unsolicited advice. Choose your celebrant wisely. Pick someone you love and who loves you. Someone who knows you. Someone truly extraordinary for an extraordinary moment in your lives. I realize that very few people in the world could have a celebrant like ours. You see, we didn’t pick a celebrant who happened to be our friend. We were blessed to have a friend who happened to be a celebrant to perform the sacrament of our marriage. And that, dear readers, is how we ended up with the most beautiful sermon I couldn’t have imagined. It included elements like this:

I’m going to ask you to turn around and just take in the view that I see – all the faces of people who have joined both of you in this celebration of marriage. These are the people who have been with you and will continue to be with you, as you start this new life together.

Sometimes when I look out over the congregation, I imagine that the pews don’t stop at the church doors, but keep going and going and are filled with people, so I invite you to look past these sanctuary walls and to see the pews extending back and back, and see how they are filled with all the people who have gathered here for you: all the people who have ever loved you, all those who have shown you kindness, all those who have fought for your freedom and for justice, all those who have taught you and comforted you and been your friend, throughout the generations.

I invite you to see your brothers, seated in a pew, happy and glad for all you have become and will be together. These are the people in your life, the ones who will guide you in your marriage to each other. Take a good look at them, for they are here because they love you.

People always say to take a moment. To really experience the wedding ceremony. To take a deep breath. To let the love of your friends and family wash over you. In all the excitement, I would have forgotten to do just that, had our celebrant not reminded us. But when she did remind us, time stopped. The room was fairly glowing with love. Bright and shining and warm and comforting. It was the essence of Ahhhhhh.

And then. Then! We said our vows. Which we wrote together.

I choose you
To be no other than yourself,
Loving what I know of you,
And trusting who you will become.
I will respect and honor you
Always and in all ways.
With you I pledge to repair
One small piece of the world.
I take you to be my spouse,
To have and to hold,
In tears and in laughter,
In sickness and in health,
To love and to cherish,
From this day forward,
In this world and the next.

We wanted to pledge something that was more than now. We wanted to acknowledge all that we did not yet know. We wanted to use traditional words, but add modern feelings. Because we have lost loved ones, for whom and from whom we still feel so much love, we wanted to promise a love that went beyond “until death do us part.” And my very favorite part of our vows? All the Mister’s idea – to pledge to repair the world. There is no greater healing than that.

We know that not everyone shares our spiritual beliefs, and we respect differences out in the world and here in our own communities and families. But for us, the marriage ceremony included God. And so we had communion. We had to fight with the church lady about the logistics. We wanted to be served last, after every single one of our guests had the opportunity to partake. She argued and wheedled and moved things around. But we stuck to our guns. And in the end, it worked just as we knew it should. It. Was. Right.

After all the solemn words and promises, it was time for a huge helping of joy with more than a sprinkle of humor. Our celebrant pronounced us husband and wife, we kissed (and kissed!), and the organist launched into our recessional. The Hallelujah Chorus. I can’t imagine a happier husband, a more cheerful wife, or a merrier congregation. To see people who have known sadness find true happiness? There were tears of joy and hoots of laughter. I may have even hopped up and down a bit. We sealed our marriage with mirth.

Amen.

Details, Details . . . .

Wedding planners and coordinators and magazines (oh my!) say nowadays that details are the key to a good wedding. And when Super Tall Girl and I arrived at the church, we began setting up the little ceremony details we had prepared in advance. Programs:

Pinwheels (printed with the words of our vows). We put the paper pinwheels onto pencils that were themselves printed with whimsical axioms like, “Write Your Own Love Story,” and “A Whirlwind Romance.” And we put the finished products into recycled paper-ream box lids that we covered in fabric and filled with Spanish moss):

Vintage Hankies given by Mama, two Aunties, and Super Tall Girl:

A guestbook, nearly every page of which had a photograph of family members on their wedding day. And snapshot cards that told guests how to upload their photos on smugmug.com. We also made little stand-up cards that explained all of the other little details and cards. Overkill? Probably. But they were pretty little overkills, no?

The fascinator in my hair I made from feathers and French netting:

And I made my necklace from coin pearls that looked like full moons. The pearls symbolized my twin brother, whose nickname was “Mr. Moon” when we were little. (Mine was “Little Miss Sunshine”).

The flowers in my bouquet, above, were lilies of the valley, which symbolize a return to happiness. They are sometimes also called Jacob's Ladder, and Jacob was my twin brother's name.

I made my veil from an embroidered piece of organza from the fabric store and a plastic comb. Several people asked if it was vintage. But it was just homemade. It probably cost $15. But it felt like it was worth a million, because the embroidery was of shamrocks to symbolize the day the Mister and I got engaged – St. Patrick’s Day:

I made tartan rosette pins for every woman member of my mother’s clan and the Mister’s clan. Momma Mac, my MIL, pinned her tartan on my dress to symbolize that I joined her clan during the ceremony:

Sure, the weddingers say that details are the key to a good wedding. And I'm so glad I made them, because adding symbolism to an already meaningful ritual adds depth. And (to be honest) making things just plain makes me happy.

But our details were merely the outward expression of the inner love the Mister and I felt for each other, our guests, and the joyful occasion of the day. The only real detail I needed that day was the man I married. So don't be pressured to DIY or include a details that aren't your style or speed.

You and YOUR mister: express yourselves. BE yourselves. The you-ness of it all is what you will cherish, and what your guests will remember. I promise.

Opposites Attract

After my bout of mischief at the premarital counseling required by our Church, I came to our final counseling meeting on my best behavior. It was yesterday, and the point of the meeting was our Myers-Briggs personality inventory scores.

I find myself wondering why we get these scores so late in the wedding planning process. Wouldn’t you think that incompatibility would be best learned sometime before the 50-day final countdown? And at first blush, we sure looked incompatible.

There are four elements to the Myers-Briggs test, and we only shared one. We’re both planners. In case you hadn’t noticed from this wedding planning blog.

But we’re opposites on the other three elements. I’m a feeling, intuitive extrovert, and the Mister is a thinking, sensing introvert. Ruh-roh.

Our premarital counselor didn’t bother to do more than explain the elements of the test, so I did a little online research to find out what our scores meant. Why did we feel so good together if we were so very different?

I learned that we have a duality relationship, which is summarized as the most favorable and comfortable of all relationships between personality types. One article I saw even said that duality relationships provide “complete psychological compatibility.” Whew! Here’s more:

Dual partners are like two halves of a whole unit. They usually understand each other’s intentions without any need to say a word. Your dual partner will naturally protect your weak points and appreciate the strong ones. Interaction with your dual allows you to be yourself without the need to adjust to your partner, like you would in other relationships. This often saves both partners a lot of energy which they can use for their own interests. Conflicts between duals are very rare and if there are any, they are normally short-lived and solved without pain. Your dual partner will love you just for what you are, and if there is such a thing as true love, it usually occurs in relations of duality.

There are at least two conditions to be completed for a successful relationship between duals. First, between the partners there has to be at least a minimal mutual attraction. Second, and most important, the partners must truly strive for the same or similar things. This may include common interests or life goals. In other words, two halves of the same whole must not move in the different directions, or the whole will break into pieces.

No wonder being with the Mister feels so very right. And why I feel, for the very first time in a relationship, that I can be myself, and he’ll appreciate me just as I am (and vice versa!). Since we share common interests, common life goals, and (a lot!) more than “minimal mutual attraction,” I now understand why we’re so well suited for each other.

I guess opposites really do attract.

Amen, Sara!

Sara, over at 2000dollarwedding posted a fabulous rant about wedding hysteria. You'll have to head on over there if you want to read the whole thing, but here's an excerpt:

Dear David's Bridal,

For a large number of people, planning a wedding is not easy. Of course there is excitement and eager anticipation, but there is also a lot of anxiety.

Some of us are anxious about how to plan ideal weddings that fit within our budgets. . . . Some of us worry about hurting other peoples' feelings . . . . Some of us wonder why it is that we find ourselves thinking about our weddings ALL THE DAMN TIME even though we are perfectly rational beings with many, many passions beyond the scope of our weddings.

As you can see, the wedding planning community has enough pressure as it is. David's Bridal, we do not need to hear subtle statements from you that serve to increase our anxiety, such as this statement from a recent press release: "Amidst troubling economic times, a wedding is still the most important day in a couple's life."

Yes, a wedding is a great day in a couple's life. It is meaningful and memorable. But it is not--by any stretch of the corporate imagination--the Be-All-End-All of our lives. A wedding is a wonderful opportunity to proclaim and celebrate our love and commitment, but it commemorates an official beginning, not an end. We have many opportunities ahead of us for "important" days in our lives as a couple. . . . [T]his isn't our one chance to have our most important day.

Amen, Sara!

"Hello, self. It's me, Jules."

It’s official. I am ready for the wedding. Not because all the projects are finished, but because the wedding has taken over my life.

If my mind were a computer (and believe me, it’s not), the wedding would be a program running in the background at all times -- with hundreds of popup messages per day. I am able to get everything else done, but it’s almost as if all of those other responsibilities revolve around the center of the universe. Which is The Wedding.

What did I think about before I was contemplating centerpieces over every lunch break? What did I do with my time when I wasn’t making invitations and programs and bridesmaid gifts and writing welcome letters and toasts and vows and day-of timelines?

I. Completely. Forget.

I used to think of myself as a person. But the wedding industrial complex has nearly redefined my identity to: BRIDE. Nearly, but not quite entirely. Which is how I’m able, through my remaining scrap of self-awareness, to see a glimmer of the Jules I was before the wedding. The person I still am, under layers and layers of tulle.




And if I’m overwhelmed with this Event-with-a-capital-E, imagine how it’s affecting the Mister. Here’s an excerpt from a conversation I had with Mama last week:

Mama: “The wedding doesn’t stress me out. Now Mr. Mama’s retirement – THAT stresses me out.”
Jules: “You live with Mr. Mama’s retirement.
You don’t live with the wedding. The Mister does.”
Mama: “And he still wants to marry you?! He must really love you.”

This is why they say to have a short engagement. Eighteen months is waaaay too long for my crafty mind to contemplate all of the possible wedding details I can arrange to perfection. Enough already!

So we’ve planned a wedding-free day this Saturday. We won’t be checking the mailbox for RSVPs; we won’t be making darling little wedding crafts; we won’t practice our first dance or edit our song list or review the budget. It’s not really about reconnecting with each other; we’ve remained very close through all this creative chaos. It’s really about reconnecting with ourselves.

"Hello, self. It's me, Jules."

MOH

This is how I feel about Super Tall Girl, my MOH:

Oh, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with the breath of kindness, blow the rest away. -- George Eliot

Magical Machines

Oh. My. Gosh. I loooove Super Tall Girl’s Magical Xyron Machine.

The Mister and I recently received the raw materials for our invitations from the letterpresser. (You remember, the page on which I had put all our invitation design elements, including the front and back of the RSVP postcard, decorative elements for our thank you notes, and the invitation itself.) I had them cut at Kinko’s. And then I started putting them together. With the magic of Xyron.

You put paper into the machine, turn the crank, and voila! Out it comes on the other side, with the back side completely coated with ubersticky stuff.

It reminds me of the Dr. Seussical machine that Sylvester McMonkey McBean uses to put stars on the bellies of the starless Sneeches:
Fortunately, I’m using my magical machine for good, not for evil.

And if you have not read the story of the Sneeches, you really, really must. It’s amazing how children’s stories can make things like nondiscrimination and self-acceptance seem so . . . elegant. Now if only we can apply the moral of that story to combating the commercialism of weddings. I’m workin’ on it.

A Long and Beautiful Wedding (The Journey)

Meg over at apracticalwedding.com wrote this bit of genius today:

Do you know that in Judaism, your wedding starts the moment that you get engaged, and only ends a year after your wedding? I love this, because for me the process has been so enlightening, and the journey is perhaps as important as the destination.

What a beautiful concept!

Our wedding has already begun, with the gathering of family and friends to celebrate our engagement and to plan pre-ceremony showers and post-ceremony reception festivities.

And our wedding will continue long after the rice is swept away, as we open gifts, nest in our home, and enjoy each other’s company.

I feel like I can finally take a deep breath, for the first time in a very long time. Thank you, Meg, for reminding us what it’s all about.

Woof!

So very sorry I have been MIA. I was out of town at the Mister’s parents’ house for the Thanksgiving holiday. The week before that, I was doing the single most crazy aspect of my job – hosting a delegation of VIPs from another country. For. An. Entire. Week. I dread their visit for a month before they come, and I get so darned attached to them that I cry when they leave. It’s an exhausting, rewarding experience. And I’m glad it’s over. I’ll be back to full blogging strength soon.

Because of the VIP visit, I missed my ten-year reunion from school. Bleh. But I did get to see some friends who visited for the reunion. Photo!

From Left to Right. Top Row: Doc (aka Smarty), Dopey, Dopey’s Wife (Bashful), Sneezy (the Mister) Bottom Row: Sleepy, Grumpy, and Happy (me!)

Grumpy is one of my best friends from school. We’re quite the pair – Grumpy and Happy. Although, as you can see, he’s really happy on the inside. He just pretends to be an outraged curmudgeon most of the time. (To be honest, that’s part of what makes him so loveable.)

I hadn’t seen Doc in ages, but it was as if the decade had never passed. She’s fun and smart and darling. I heart her. We drank martinis and acted like idiots that night. Fun!

It was great to introduce the Mister to some friends who are scattered across the country. He had fun (even though he looks like a mini-grump in this pic). Actually, he’s the most fun of the bunch. This pic (from the same weekend) shows his personality much better:

Man, I love him.

Are you seeing some long-lost friends over the holiday? Or at your wedding? Sometimes I feel like a sheep dog, herding all my loved ones as close together as I can. Woof!

Link Between Earth and Sky

After my twin brother died, I had a dream. It was about designing and making jewelry in memory of him. I started a jewelry business and began selling my jewelry locally. This creative outlet helped me make something lovely out of my grief. Holidays, which were especially painful times without my twin, became times of anticipation and happiness. Just knowing that people were opening gifts of my jewelry from their loved ones made those days seem lighter and better.

I paired each piece of jewelry with a card bearing the meaning of the primary gemstone and a quotation that relates to the meaning. I hoped that the recipients of the jewelry would find meaning in their gems, but also in the world around them.

While I will never be fully healed from the loss of my twin, I have had a different sense of wholeness since I met the Mister. Instead of continuing to expand my jewelry business, I began to focus on building a life with him, which included planning our wedding. The wedding planning became a new creative outlet, and I focused less on my jewelry. Part of me even wondered whether the work of my jewelry was nearing completion.

This week, however, I received an email that reminded me why I design my jewelry and sell it in places where it can reach people I don’t even know.

Here is the email:

My Fiance (Charlie) purchased one of your necklaces for my birthday which was September 11, 2008. Our wedding was to be on November 15, 2008 and we are both Scottish so we were using the Celtic theme for the wedding. This necklace follows on that theme you could say. One of the things on the enclosed reading material really hits home more than ever, "The Tree collection contains wood, which symbolizes life. In the Celtic tradition, trees represent the bridge between earth and sky, between mankind and God." My Fiance died on September 20th in a hit and run accident, he was on his way to his second job to help with our wedding. This necklace means the world to me and I wear it everyday. I would like to get a similar necklace for Charlie’s sister.

This incredible woman is only a month from the loss of her fiancé (and less than a month until the day she was to marry him). Her pain must be acute and unfathomable. That the necklace represents her continued link with her beloved is amazingly, heartbreakingly beautiful. I am humbled to play a tiny part in a love that lasts beyond death.

That she wants to share that link with his sister awes me further. I know that God will bless her giving spirit and mend her heart.

I responded that I would be honored to create a similar necklace for his sister. And I told her that, while she will never forget Charlie, in time it will become easier to remember him.

As the Mister and I continue to plan our wedding with Scottish traditions, we are reminded that each day is a gift. We will remember our lost loved ones on our wedding day. Although we never met him, Charlie will undoubtedly be among them.

Backyard Bouquet

Remember the 80's? Poofy sleeves, giant shoulder pads, and gargantuan bouquets dripping with flowers? Brides had to have a special plastic handle to support those heavy bouquets. I get carpal tunnel just by looking at pictures of 'em. Dramatic and interesting, but not quite my style.

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I’d like to carry a small bouquet of lilies of the valley. They are delicate and sweet and represent a return to happiness. And they’re sometimes called Jacob’s Ladder (my twin brother’s name). I used to pick them from the yard for my mother to put in tiny vases. My grandmother (Pop’s mom) used to wear lily of the valley perfume.

But they're so danged expensive! It costs a gazillion dollars to order them from a florist, because they are flown in from New Zealand. I may not be having an uber-green wedding, but that seems like a lotta jet fuel for a little bouquet. What happened to the days when people would go into their gardens and pick flowers for their bouquets? They were local and beautiful and meaningful and . . . wait! My super neighbor has lilies of the valley growing right next to her house right at the time I'm getting married! Super Neighbor to the rescue!

So, I asked her if I could collect them the day before the wedding. (No, I'm not going to dress like the hamburgler and sneak over to mow down her prize garden! Shame on you for thinking such a thing!)

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She said yes! Right after I pick them, I'll condition them in water so they won’t wilt, and then I'll wrap them up for my own sweet little posy.

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If some freak frost destroys the crop of lilies, I’ll just roll with it. I have a tiny Bible that my Mama gave me when I was a little girl that I’ll happily carry. Remember, I’m not putting pressure on this wedding to be perfect, so whatever happens will be wonderful.

I know that a lot of people do their own wedding flowers using grocery stores or floral wholesalers. Anyone else out there doing their own flowers out of their backyard?

Next up: the ceremony and reception decor.

Fleurs

I love flowers, but I don’t love that most flowers delivered by florists are grown halfway around the world, then flown in at a very high cost, not just to the end consumer, but also to the environment. Holy carbon footprint, Batman! So I started thinking about ways to reduce the monetary and environmental cost of our wedding flowers.

First I started with the boutonnieres. I mean, how hard can those little babies be to mess up?! I checked Martha Stewart’s wedding videos out of the library, and watched all the floral parts. One thousand eight hundred sixty-two and three-quarters hours later, I got up off the couch, went to the grocery store, bought some rosemary, wrapped it up with some pussy willow branches, and in less than sixty seconds ended up with this:

I put it in a bag in my fridge just to see how long it would hold up. Five months later, it still looked great. I must have bought some bionic rosemary.
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I like what I created, but I want it to be a smidge less vertical, so I’ll incorporate some other local greenery when the wedding rolls around, like boxwood (from Mr. Mama’s front porch) and some tiny succulents, like hens and chickens (which might just be Pop’s favorite plant). Easy-peasy.

We’ve got two women walking in the processional (one is my MOH, the other is the Mister’s groomsmaid), and I contemplated giving them flowers. But if my MOH has a bouquet, to whom will she hand it when she fluffs out my train? My other attendant is a man. (In fact, we call him my Mantron of Honor, because if there are maids and matrons, there should be mans and mantrons, no?) While he’s masculine enough to get away with holding a bouquet for part of the ceremony, it seems unnecessary. The female attendants may carry books that reflect their feelings about the day. Perhaps a Bible and a collection of Jane Austen novels – whatever they like.

Which brings us to the darling mothers. I asked them all what white flower they’d like for us to present to them at the ceremony. Mrs. Pop picked a white gardenia, which she carried at her wedding to Pop. Mama picked a white calla lilly, which represents simple beauty to her. The Mister’s grandmother selected a classic white rose. And Momma Mac picked a peony . . . a pink peony! I don’t think she saw the part of my email asking which *white* flower she’d prefer. And, to be perfectly honest, I don’t give a hoot whether all the flowers match. If a pink peony she wants, a pink peony she shall have! I may have to order these flowers from a florist, which will have an environmental impact. But it is a much smaller impact than most wedding flowers, and I think it’s worth it. Flowers make them happy. And it’s only four flowers. I’m cool with it.

Next up: My bouquet!

The VETO! Dun dun dun!

So . . . there’s been a bit of confusion about my tongue-in-cheek discussion of the Mister’s “limited veto power.” Let me assure you, readers, that the Mister is involved in this wedding shindig – probably more involved than he would really like. We discuss every detail, and we make the decision on each one together. I’m more of the brainstormer, bringing him ideas to accomplish our shared vision, whereas he generally gives me a “thumbs up” or “thumbs down” on the ideas I ‘storm up.

Sometimes, we’re immediately on the same page, and he wholeheartedly agrees with my ideas. Most often, he tweaks my concepts, and we agree that the result is better than what either of us could have dreamt up alone. Other times, I come up with something crazy, and he looks at me dubiously while I try to convince him of the idea’s merit. Then there are the rare times when I come up with somethin’ that he hates, and that’s when he uses . . . “the veto.” The big “V” is just his way of telling me in no uncertain terms that he hates my idea. I suppose we call it a veto because it’s a funny, non-threatening way to shortcut to the end result of what would otherwise be a long conversation.

The best example of how he used the “V” was on the wedding music. I got it in my head that we should have an iPod reception. It’s modern and technological and free! But the Mister had always envisioned having a deejay or band, and the idea of an iPod manned by a friend made the reception feel cheap to him. He was also worried that the technology would fail, like what happened at Mrs. Tulip’s reception. So, we decided together to hire a deejay. End of story. No drama-filled yell-fests. Just a nice conversation where we compromised.

I guess “veto” is a bit of a misnomer, but the Mister and I still like it. It makes me think of Schoolhouse Rock:

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I’m just a bill. Yes I’m only a bill. And I’m sittin’ here on Capitol Hill. (wink)

Guest Blogger: Tipper!

Hi! I'm Tipper, and I'm interrupting your regularly scheduled wedding blog to bring you this urgent message: Please consider adopting a pet!

Before buying a pet that was specially bred for purchase, please at least consider animals already looking for happy homes. Aside from the major concern that purchased pets may be from puppy mills, where animal cruelty and serious health hazards abound, there is an even more important reason for considering adopting rather than buying a pet. You can save a life. According to the American Humane Association, an estimated 9.6 million animals are euthanized in the United States every year.

Rather than going over the specifics of this heartbreaking statistic, I’d like to focus on the positive aspects of adopting a pet. When you adopt a companion animal, you gain the lifelong gratitude and devotion of a pet that would otherwise be homeless. And the devotion and happiness go both ways! There are hundreds of “Happy Tails” on petfinder.com, describing the joy that adopted animals have brought to the lives of their families. And pictures, like these!

Gretchen:

Ranger:

Rascal:

Monk:

So, my little two-legged friends, please consider adopting one of us four-leggers. We're worth it!

This is Tipper, signing off with an extra slurpy smooch. Back to your regularly scheduled blog.

Must Have Shot List

What’s up with those incredibly long must-have shot lists that people give their photographers? It’s a great idea to pick some shots you’d like to have, but 85?! That’s what theknot.com recommends.

For example, why do I need a posed, formal picture alone with my parents? By the time we get the proofs back from the photog, the Mister will be a part of my family (and I a part of his), so why would we exclude him? Will my parents ever display a picture of just the three of us without the Mister, when I’m in my wedding dress? Like, if I get divorced (God forbid!), and they want to cut him out of the picture? I’m sure no one would notice the giant poofy white dress. Maybe my mom can show it to new prospects for my second husband! Not. Gonna. Happen.

Why have so many posed shots, anyway? I’d much rather enjoy part of the cocktail hour talking to my family and friends than standing on the altar steps with a frozen smile in a parade of flash bulbs.

I know! The photographer can take pictures of the Mister and me actually enjoying our own wedding, surrounded by the people we’d put in the formal pictures. But I’m so kooky – everyone knows we’re not supposed to enjoy the wedding. We’re just supposed to look like we’re enjoying it, for the pictures. (Wink.)

If all else fails, the Mister and I can get a life-sized cutout of ourselves. Insert our faces here:

While we enjoy our guests at the cocktail hour, the people who want a ton of formal shots can take them with the cardboard us.

Cardboard is soooo slimming.

From the Very Beginning

The Mister called me last night, outraged that I claimed to have cankles in my last post. He says that I DO NOT have them, and that I should edit my post to remove the offending remark. I love that he’s stickin’ up for me, even if it’s against . . . well . . . me.

This proves one thing. And it’s not that I have lovely, slender ankles. It’s that love is blind. Not every guy in the world thinks my curves are slammin’, but I’m so lucky that the Mister does. Once I had someone ask whether the Mister is a leg man. I replied, “If he were, do you think he’d be dating me?!” Tee hee.

Mama says, “I may not be perfect, but parts of me are excellent.” So true. I know a few people who wouldn’t like the furriness of the Mister’s back, or the fact that you can almost fit the remote control in his ginormous belly button. Me, I like that he’s warm and cuddly, and his belly button makes me laugh. I’m grinning right now just thinking about it.

I really believe that there’s someone out there for everyone. Sometimes it just takes a little time to find said person. I’ve dated some real doozies, and stuck it out in those bad relationships because I thought that love wasn’t supposed to be easy. My last relationship was with a really nice guy who wasn’t right for me (and I wasn’t right for him). It literally never occurred to me that the effort we had to exert to keep the relationship going shouldn’t have been necessary.

That’s not to say that love is always easy. Fortunately I have two excellent models of happy marriages (Mama and Mr. Mama; Pop and Mrs. Pop). Add to that the Mister’s parents (Momma Mac and Mac Daddy). These relationships prove that love, like a well-rooted tree, is natural. It grows and bears fruit without trying. There may be hard winters that the tree must endure, but there are also optimistic springs and lush summers. So while love may not be easy, it is natural. My feelings for the Mister are the very first time that love ever felt right. Magical. Inevitable.

A commercial I heard this morning said, “If your girl is one in a million, then there are seven thousand other versions of her in the world.” I’m certainly not going to say that there is only one person for everyone in this world. I’ve seen widows who had wonderful first marriages find love a second time. While the concept of a one-and-only soul mate might not account for these stories, my feelings for the Mister have convinced me that the person or people you are meant to love are imprinted in your soul. In the words of the poet Rumi:

The moment I heard my first love story I began seeking you,
not realizing the search was useless.
Lovers don't meet somewhere along the way.
They're in one another's souls from the beginning.

When I look into my soul, I see that the Mister has been there all along.

Going Carless! Ooh la la!

So, I’m going carless. This sounds somewhat risqué, like going braless or even topless. (A side note here – whenever I say I’m going to a tapas restaurant, people always think I’m saying a topless restaurant. Does anyone else have this problem?) But what I mean is that I don’t currently own a car. This is practically blasphemy in the Midwest, home of car racing and big trucks. Once, I met my MOH at a restaurant for lunch, but it was closed. We decided to go to a restaurant about six stores down the strip mall, and she got into her car and DROVE there. (Granted, she has a really cool car – a MINI Cooper named Stella).




Let me explain. The place where I live with the Mister has only one parking spot. Usually, I would just park on the street, but we live near a busy downtown building, so all the spots are metered. If I ever decided to stay home for the day (say, for example to meet the cable guy, who has come to my house four times in the past two days, and still, no cable!), I’d have to put money in the parking meter on the street. There is a nearby garage, but it costs $40 per month to park your car there. I work for the State, so I can park in the free State garage, but it’s about ten blocks away. So then I started thinking, “If I’m going to park my car so far away, do I really need a car at all?”

In the downtown area where we live, there’s a grocery store and a hardware store and a mall and a movie theater. In other words, the majority of the stuff I need is within walking distance. (And a lot of things I don’t need, like great pubs and restaurants. I hope walking to these locations will make up for the caloric intake!)

Sooooo, the Mister and I decided to try an experiment. When the lease on my old car ended, I would just walk to and from work. This wasn’t so much of a stretch because: (1) I was already riding my bicycle to work a few times a week for fitness and environmental reasons, and (2) it takes about as long to walk from my house to work as it does to walk from the State parking garage to work. If I needed the car on the evenings or weekends, I would ask the Mister. And if the car and the Mister were busy, I could always rent a car. We would take it one day at a time. Whenever it got unbearable, I would just go get a new car, and the experiment would be over.

It’s been two months so far, and it’s going swimmingly. The whole walking around thing reminds me of being in college, when I didn’t even dream of having a car. If what I needed was off campus, I just learned how to do without. A girl can get a lot of wedding thinking done while sashaying about town.

I’ve only rented a car once during this experiment. I reserved a subcompact car to save on gas and to get into those teensy tiny parking spots, but the rental agency gave me a giant V-8 two-door and expected me to be happy about a car that vroomed unnecessarily. I took Mama and Mr. Mama for ice cream in it, and I had to fold Mr. Mama into a pretzel to get him in and out of the back seat. He was crabby.




I’d be lying if I said that I never felt slightly trapped by not having a motor vehicle at my beck and call. There are times I want to just drive off, away from responsibilities (or at least toward my Mama and my MOH, both of whom live too far away to walk). But those few trapped feelings are greatly outweighed by the benefits of going carless:

I can eat corndogs and not gain weight.
I see the same people on my walks every day, and I like the feeling of community.
Mother Earth approves of my smaller carbon footprint.
While my backside (or my dignity, as my grandmother used to call it) is less plump, the opposite is true for my wallet.

There are a few drawbacks. Like the crazy guys who ask me for money every day. And my hairdo is usually a hairdon’t by the time I get to work. But little miracles happen all the time on my walks. Last week another (obviously crazy!) guy said, “Pardon me ma’am. You have a beautiful figure. I’ll bet you get that all the time.” Um, no, I most certainly do not! I was walking on air for days.

I get two reactions to the experiment. COOL! and WHAT?! People either love or hate the idea – there’s no middle ground. Some folks can’t fathom going without a car, while others secretly wish they could. I realize that there are a gazillion people who ride the bus or their bikes or walk to work every single day, and it’s not like I’m some nutty radical who’s changing the universe just by waiting to buy a new car. But I am literally the only person I know in my profession who doesn’t have a car (and isn’t even shopping for one).

So, anybody else out there going carless? We should all meet up at the local topless (I mean tapas) restaurant to bond.

Motto

If marriage is the simple, straightforward theme of our wedding, then I suppose I can splurge a bit and have a motto.

In the Spring of 1939, with war against Germany all but inevitable, the British Government's Ministry of Information commissioned a series of posters to be distributed throughout the country at the onset of hostilities. The posters were a message from the King to his people to stress an “attitude of mind” rather than a specific aim. On the eve of a war that Britain was ill-equipped to fight, it was impossible to know what the nation’s future aims and objectives would be.

At the end of the Summer of 1939, three designs using the crowns of George VI as the only graphic device went into production. The first poster read “Your Courage, Your Cheerfulness, Your Resolution will Bring Us Victory.” The second carried the slogan “Freedom is in Peril.” The third design simply read “Keep Calm and Carry On.”



The first two designs were distributed in the Fall of 1939 and began to appear in shop windows, on railway platforms, and on advertising boards up and down the country. But the “Keep Calm” posters were held in reserve, intended for use only in times of crisis or invasion. Although some may have found their way onto government office walls, the poster was never officially issued and remained virtually unseen by the public until a copy turned up more than fifty years later in a box of dusty old books bought in auction. It was displayed by a pair of British shop owners who began reproducing it after its immediate popularity.

I first saw the poster on etsy.com, and it immediately put me into the right “attitude of mind.” I learned more about it on the website of a secondhand bookshop, and I liked it so much that we registered for the poster as a wedding gift, to serve as a constant reminder in our married life.

While some might see a wedding as both a crisis and an invasion, I think it’s neither. I do think, however, that it’s very helpful to be reminded in this time of great change to Keep Calm and Carry On.

Thematic Elegance

Apparently every wedding is supposed to have a theme. It seems like these themes usually involve the word, “elegance”: Simple Elegance, Casual Elegance, Calla Lily Elegance, Victorian Elegance, Autumn Elegance, My-Day-MUST-Be-Perfect Elegance, Barking Mad Elegance, Spray-Tan Elegance . . . . You get the idea.

Image from pbtanandtravel.com.

At the recommendation of Miss Pineapple over on weddingbee.com, I read A More Perfect Union: How I Survived the Happiest Day of My Life. When the author, Hana Schank, and her fiancé (both of whom are Jewish) began planning their wedding, they had this discussion about their theme:

"Well, the magazines say that a good way to start planning a wedding is to pick a theme, and everything else follows."
"Oh man," he said. "What kind of theme?"
"They suggest things like 'Hearts and Flowers,' or, you know, 'The Wild West,' that kind of thing."
"Like, 'Romance Under the Sea'?"
"Yeah," I said. "I'm thinking maybe we should go with 'Man's Inhumanity to Man.' "
"What about, 'Anti-Semitism Through the Ages'?" asked Steven. "I mean, it is going to be a Jewish wedding."
"Ooh, good one. We could do a Czarist Russia table, a Spanish Inquisition table, a Nazi Germany table."
"The possibilities are endless, really. That's what makes it a good theme."

This has gotten me thinking – what’s our wedding theme? As much as I like “Man’s Inhumanity to Man” (wink), it’s not really our style. And since I’m not remotely elegant (I tripped over my own feet today at work), I suppose that anything involving “elegance” is out. The colors we plan to use are black and white, but that’s not a theme, it’s a color palette, right?.

In vain I searched good ole’ Martha Stewart’s website for theme concepts that fit what we are trying to accomplish. And theknot.com wasn’t any help either. But

Courtney over at apracticalwedding.com nailed it. “The theme of our wedding is marriage.” Amen, sistah.

The Anti-Funeral

Think for a moment about the most important element of a wedding. You know . . . the part that makes a party seem . . . wedding-y. The dress? The cake? Chivari chairs? Chicken cordon bleu? Apparently, each person in the world (or at least each person who thinks about weddings – that’s everybody, right?) feels there is one thing without which it wouldn’t be a wedding at all. And, here’s the kicker, it’s different for each person. Which isn’t so bad when you’ve got a bride planning the wedding on her own with her mama. That’s two people to satisfy. But when you’ve included an entire community in the planning of said wedding, you’ve got yourself a heap of trouble.

For my FMIL, Momma Mac, I suspect it might be the cake. She offered to buy our buttercreamed beauty, and she enjoyed picking it out with us. My stepmother (Mrs. Pop) sent me shoes in the mail. Apparently, my rubber-soled skimmer shoes didn’t fit the fashion bill, and she kindly (I mean that – very kindly) bought me a pair that were much nicer, but still my style. Shoes are important to her. My Mama has been attempting to brainwash me about my processional music. She has played her favorite song for me at least thirty times. She may even have implemented some sort of subliminal listening system in my home, for all I know. She’s crafty like that!

Cake. Fashion. Music. There’s something else that will make our wedding for me. Family.

Sure, people love their families, and family is so stable for most people that it’s a given at a wedding, which is why they focus on the other parts, like the reception location or something. But family has been a delicate thing for me, and I’m acutely aware of it nearly every moment of every day.

My twin brother died seven years ago, and his absence has been more palpable in the wedding planning than it has been since the year he died. Our family has been through so much tragedy. And we’ve had so many loving friends who tenderly held our hearts as we’ve grieved. Now, instead of planning a funeral and just trying to make it through each day, we’re all planning a wedding and looking well into the future. In short, this wedding is the anti-funeral. Not just for me, but for all of us.

So when I listen a little too much to the opinions of family and friends, and I agonize over how to meld them into a single, coherent day, it’s not because I’m indecisive or too nice (people who know me know that’s certainly not true!). It’s because I want everyone who helped ease the grief to get a piece of the joy.