Engagement Photos

So, the Mister and I aren't the most photogenic people you've ever met. I mean, we're lovely and all, but somehow you put a camera in our face and it looks a little bit like we might be related to Sloth from The Goonies. It ain't cute. HEEEY YOUUUU GUUUUYS!

Anyway, so one of the things I decided I wanted out of all this wedding nonsense was some nice engagement photos. Just some decent pictures of us. Maybe even a couple artsy ones. We're fun people. And someday we're going to get old and decrepit and I'd like to remember the way we looked back in the day.

Here's the thing, though: engagement photos are cheesy. I mean not absolutely all of them, I guess, but when you look at as many as I do (which, let me tell you, is kind of a lot), the more you realize...wow, this is silly. I mean, just google them. Seriously. You'll laugh. Then (if you know us) picture mine and the Mister's heads on those bodies: you'll laugh again.

here comes the bride...ALONE!

So, as I mentioned, I've decided to walk down the aisle alone despite the fact that I love and am pretty close to both my parents. People seem to be very emotional about this choice, which is a little funny to me. One of the reasons I didn't really think I would get married is sort of what the whole institution used to mean, and the relics of that that continue into today. I knew I didn't want anyone "giving me away" because, you know, I'm not a cow, I don't belong to my father (or my mother) and I'm not theirs to give. I am my own woman, and I am giving myself to the Mister just as he's giving himself to me. What better way to symbolize that I am independent, and that I am coming into this of my own choice, with my own mind, my own heart? What better way to symbolize that, at its root, this is about ME and HIM?

I knew I needed to talk to my dad about this before we got too close to the wedding day because I really didn't want to hurt him. Like I said, this is about me, and not about my relationship with him. So I was at lunch with my dad and my sister (and maid of honor) and I mentioned my feelings on the matter, and my dad was totally cool about it. "Yeah, that makes sense. That's a lot more YOU." (Which is accurate.) My sister, however, FLIPPED HER SHIT. She thinks it makes it look like I don't get along with dad, or that I don't have family. She thinks it's a slap in the face to him. To which I can only say: um...no?

I certainly don't mean to say that it's anti-feminist to be walked down the aisle by your dad. If that's what the bride wants, more power to her. But for me, with my already having some icky feelings about weddings, this was a nice compromise. And my dad will still get a sweet boutineer and a hug. What more could a guy want, right?

"fuck them, it's my wedding"

From the jump, I told everyone who would think it was funny that the motto of my wedding was going to be "fuck them, it's my wedding."

For instance, I have stepsisters to whom I'm not all that close, though I was in the younger one's wedding and they both call me their "sister." They're not going to be in the wedding. You know why? Because fuck them, it's my wedding.

I'm not doing favors. Fuck them, it's my wedding.

I'm walking down the aisle by myself, despite the fact that I have a good relationship with both my parents. Fuck them, it's my wedding. (More on this later, likely.)

Yet somehow, I feel like every decision I've made since the beginning of our engagement has been about what other people want and what they'd like in our wedding. Which is all well and good, but I just sort of wish I'd kept my irreverant (if, you know, rude) spirit. It was good for my mental health while it lasted.

lovebirds

I hate birds. Anyone who knows me could tell you that I have a perhaps abnormal fear/loathing of birds. Birds of all sizes and kinds, though there is a sort of spectrum of how awful they are. Big birds and birds of prey are worst. Baby birds and flightless birds are best (specifically baby penguins. even I can admit they're sort of cute. for birds). Birds are disease ridden. They have beady eyes and pointy beaks. And those gross, gross feet. THEY HAVE NO CONTROL OVER THEIR BOWELS. Seriously, is there anything grosser? And they can fly around, leaving you vulnerable to having your eyes pecked out AT ANY MOMENT. Plus, they are dinosaurs.

So it really irritates me when there are cutesy wedding things with birds all over them. I want cutesy wedding things, but I do not want those evil disease carriers anywhere near my special day. Look at this one! Those birds are perched on the edge of those glasses, waiting to lose control of their bowels all in your drink! In this invitation , these birds are eating your beautifully crafted centerpieces! Make them stop! And here: who wants to look at those dinosaurs while they eat? Yuck!

But more than anything, I hate being called a lovebird. I am a human being. I AM NOT A FUCKING BIRD. THAT IS GROSS.

Luckiest Girl Ever

I'm a law student, and this semester I'm working in a clinic that deals with child protective proceedings. My biggest case is representing a mom who's had her kid taken away because the dad was abusive to the mom in front of the kid. The mom since moved out, is in counseling, and is basically trying to put the pieces of her life back together--and get her daughter back. It's kind of a long story, but basically, the caseworker for the state hates my client and will stop at nothing to keep this kid in her foster home. It makes my stomach hurt to think about.

Anyway, after a long day of dealing with this shit, I come home and get in my warm and comfy bed, curled up with my laptop and O the Oprah Magazine (always a good way to feel better about the world). After a while, the Mister calls to say he's on his way home, and offers to stop at Chipotle to bring me a delicious dinner. Sometimes I forget that I really am the luckiest girl in the world. It's sad that it takes dealing with some of the unluckiest people for me to recognize it.

And because this post was depressing, and I've broken the seal on photos, I leave you with this:

Wait, why?

One of the things I'm trying super-hard to do throughout this process is to ask myself why I want certain things. For instance, until last month I was growing my hair out because I believed brides had long hair. Check out any wedding website, and you will see lots of brides growing out their hair for the big day.



Carrie Underwood here is sort of the holy grail of wedding hair. And I'll admit, it's lovely. So lovely that I, too, began growing my hair out.

Here's the thing, though. My hair looks bad long. I mean, not BAD-bad, but like, it just looks much better short. I like it better short. The Mister even likes it better short (and, from what I understand, dudes typically like longer hair).

So here I am, growing my hair out because I think it's what I'm supposed to do despite the fact that the dude I'm marrying and I both think I look better when it's not that way. Isn't that about the most absurd thing you've ever heard?

It happens to me all the time with this wedding planning nonsense. The most recent example is cake. I don't particularly like cake. I mean, it's fine, and a good cake is great, but a mediocre cake (which most wedding cakes are, frankly--and certainly all of the ones we could afford are) is just not worth getting excited about. The Mister, however, loves cheesecake. I like it a lot more than regular cake. And there's a bakery in Cincinnati, where we're getting married, that does nothing but cheesecake. And they even do cheesecakes that look pretty much just like regular cakes. And yet, I still had this feeling like I should do a regular cake instead. WHY?! WHY DO I FEEL LIKE THIS?!

I am trying to train myself to recognize this feeling and fight it. It's MY wedding, right? It should be what I want, what I care about? Not just what I'm supposed to do? Right? In this spirit, I cut my hair. I am getting the damn cheesecake. And I'm not going to even think about getting extensions, Carrie Underwood!

p.s. photos!

photos?

So all the other bride blogs have photos. For "inspiration." And then they have links to where you can purchase the things which have inspired you. How convenient, Wedding Industrial Complex! Why thank you, bloggers of the bridalsphere, I DO need to peruse $700 shoes! Why yes, I WOULD like to imagine what it would be like to spend $4000 on a cake!

So I'm debating whether to put photos on here. On the one hand, weddings are pretty. And this is likely to be the only time in their lives most people have a professional photographer follow them around for a day, so the photos are extra-pretty too. But on the other hand, I think the purpose of this blog (for the moment anyway) is for me to put into words how I feel about all this wedding planning nonsense and that doesn't need photos.

Probably pretty will win.

Check, check, check

So we're in the crunch zone of time where I have been booking things right and left. The Mister and I have had a long engagement and for literally about a year and a half, I did nothing. I mean, I looked at wedding magazines and blogs, and I fantasized about what all I wanted (and obviously couldn't afford). But most places weren't even ready to talk to a bride more than two years from her wedding date, and I wasn't ready to commit to any particular vendor that early anyway. I think of this period as making up for the fact that, until that date, I hadn't really thought about what my wedding might be like. At all. I definitely wasn't that girl when I was little who had the big poufy dress all picked out. I crammed a lifetime of wedding fantasies into two years. It was a sort of sickening time.

Anyway, that time has passed, and now it falls on me to actually make decisions. In the span of the last two weeks we've picked (1) an officiant, (2) a photographer-avoiding a potential familial landmine maybe I'll talk about later (3) a florist, and (4) a D.J.

All of this makes me think I'd have been better off getting married 2 years ago. Le sigh, too late.

It's a PARTAYYYY

Basically, the Mister and I are as good as married in my mind (but married in my mind's no goooood). We live together, we have a legit partnership....not that much is going to change because we have some piece of paper. Or at least so I say now. But so all of this makes the wedding basically one big party where I get to look extra-hot and everyone we love gets to come.

Tonight we had some people over to our place, several bottles of wine, some delicious eats, and I felt so happy. I just hope that I don't lose that sense of fun and lightheartedness (and, frankly, booziness) in the intervening months. Over the course of our engagement, I keep trying to tell myself "it's just a big party." But then the Wedding Industrial Complex wants to tell me "yeah, just a big party to celebrate THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF YOUR WHOLE ENTIRE MEANINGLESS LIFE SO BUY BUY BUY." And I need to get better at saying "pipe down, WIC."

The Beginning

Actually, this isn't the beginning. It's not even close to the beginning. Today is SIX YEARS from the beginning. Six years ago today, the Mister asked me if he could tell people I was his girlfriend. Today is nearly 22 months from when the Mister asked me if he could tell people I was his wife. But, it is the beginning of this blog.

It's a little sad for me that this we have to start over on the anniversary count. Isn't that ridiculous?