I’m a Shill for Bridal Bliss

I have ceased to exist as a useful and functional member of society. I have no witty anecdotes, no commentary and no general observations on the world-at-large. I offer little companionship, very little productivity and few qualified judgments. In fact, the only advice I can offer can be summed up in one word: “Courthouse.”

I have become That Girl.

Although I thought it was against all odds, I now realize it was inevitable. It’s part and partial to the beast. The day we decided to set a date, we were not choosing to marry. (Fools.)

We were choosing to plan a wedding.

I do nothing, think nothing and talk nothing but that which is of or related to… wedding. Whereas I used to think of political analogies involving Bush when someone told me a story of someone’s idiocy, I now think of our (first) caterer. The traditional Roman calendar is no longer of use to me. This day, known to others as “Tuesday, September the 20th”, is known to me only as “T-minus-17”.

When someone asks me how I am, it’s all I can do to close my mouth before vomiting a laundry list of wedding-related tasks that I have either just accomplished or am about to begin. My bedside reading no longer consists of Sarah Vowell and Lonely Planet, but rather “Celebrating Interfaith Marriages” and “The New Jewish Wedding”. (Goys need guides.)

Gone from my brain are facts related to national political demographics and bills currently before Congress. I need those brain cells for calculating estimated alcohol consumption and paper goods usage and massively complex timelines that seem to require multiple dimensions of time to be rational. I’ve mastered functions in Excel only to avoid counting and recounting and counting again.

I have become That Girl.

So I apologize in advance and offer you only this warning: please do not communicate with me if you do not wish to hear about The Wedding. I really am incapable of even conceiving of anything else right now. It’s horribly self-involved I know, but dammit, at least I wasn’t on vacation for five weeks while people were swimming in their own feces in Louisiana. (Oh! I did it! There’s hope for me yet.)

2 Responses to “I’m a Shill for Bridal Bliss”

  • Emily,

    That’s fantastic hon! All of my friends have gone into what I affectionately call “wedding mode”. Even the guy and girl who had the most untraditional wedding I’ve ever been to. All I could get out of either of them was the marble cutting board they got from me for the shower, the caterer, and the guest list.

    They were married on the set of the Rocky Horror Picture show at our theatre by a Wiccan High Priestess, and did a binding ceremony. After the ceremony there were improv comedy performances, a tai chi demonstration, and a Hawaiian dance of love or some such. You are all good.

  • LOL! You’re so awesome, Mat … a groomzilla! 😉

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