Aw man, am I shitty bride.
Confession time: I hate everything about planning this wedding so far. MOSTLY THE FACT THAT IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO PLAN. Because we’ve seen nine million and two venues and none of them work. And without the venue I can’t imagine the colors, the dress, the food, the decorations…
Both places that we’ve loved have been overpriced and missing key elements that we need for our big day (such as a bridal suite) (or a reception area that seats more than 100 people.)
Since when do I even know more than 100 people? Since when did 125 of them become considered as essential invitations?
I’m so bad at this.
Picking the groom was easy. You could literally stick me in a plain white hallway with R.J at the other end of it and that would be easy. Maybe that’s because that’s literally all my simple imagination can conjure up at this point. Just R.J at the other end of the aisle. I love him. That’s so simple.
I usually consider myself good with big decisions. Needed a laptop, saw a laptop, said that’s my laptop, bought the laptop. Needed a camcorder, saw a camcorder, said that’s the camcorder and bought the camcorder. It took us forever to find the right apartment but the SECOND I walked through the front door of this one I was ready to sign the lease–and I did about an hour later. I can make big girl decisions. I can commit.
SOUTH FLORIDA IS JUST PROVING INADEQUATE TO MY BRIDAL NEEDS.
Where’s the god damn quaint log cabin cathedral style ballroom with the weeping willows outside the windows and the candle-light aisle? Where’s the reception venue with rates starting at under $95 a head?
The whole thing is making me so nervous. I literally had my own private panic attack watching Kim Kardashian prepare to marry Kanye. I mean I was seriously biting my nails and slugging back ginger ale watching her get her hair done. I was sitting in my pajamas. My wedding is over a year away.
There is so much to do and so much to see and there are only two days of the week that R.J and I can go together to see them and that makes for a difficult time when three weekends out of the month have been spent with me in skull-cramping migraine unable to leave our bedroom.
I’m missing the bridal gene. I don’t know what happened. I thought I could Pinterest the shit out of this before we got engaged and now I’m just a sloppy, marital disaster waiting to happen.
Can’t we just start the growing old together already?