The morning I woke up and realized the proposal was not just a happy dream, I immediately went into plan mode.
I have been dreaming about my wedding for years.
Since I was a flower girl in my aunt’s wedding, I have had a wedding obsession.
I was barely three for her wedding, and so halfway down the aisle I started to wail for my mum and was carried out. I don’t remember that.
I do remember sitting in the hotel room as my aunt and her bridesmaids got ready. To me it was a sea of pink and tulle. It was then that I became hooked.
I had to be carried away again later that night when they would only play the ‘chicken dance’ once and I threw a fit because I wanted to hear it again.
That was the last time I was carried out of a wedding. Good record considering how many I have been to.
On sunny Saturdays in Winnipeg, my mum would drive me past the Parliament buildings to look at all the brides having their photos taken. I loved it. So did she. I know she reads this blog. It’s your fault I am now wedding obsessed mum so don’t blame me when I start making plans.
Then I worked for weddings. Which was annoying until after dinner. That’s when most of our hard work was done and I could sit at the bar and listen to the speeches. That’s right, I listed to perfect strangers speeches and still cried. I loved the slide shows, the first dance, the time when men would wear ties on their heads and drunk bridesmaids would kick off their shoes.
It’s no wonder that I have been planning my wedding for ages. Not only have I been in eight, but also I have been to just as many as a guest. I have sat there, enjoying the wedding but planning in my head what I would do differently. I watch every wedding show there is on television. Heck, I now even have my own wedding show (stay tuned for more information).
Therefore I feel completely justified in wanting to plan my wedding right away. It's like the bride beast has been unleashed.
In the last few years I have had a ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ wedding theme, complete with sonnet vows. A quiet elopement on the Italian Rivera. A barnyard BBQ. A Highland fling. A sunset wedding in Greece. A tea party wedding in England.
You name it. I’ve thought of it.
The Engineer was surprised when I went right to it. He thought his proposal bought him a grace period of three months wedding-talk free. Ummmm, what planet do men live on??
This way of thinking is not unique to him. It happened to my other friend as well. And three of his buddies at school told him this was the rule. They are just as stupid as he is.
He says, ‘let’s enjoy the engagement’. HELLO? Enjoying the engagement means talking about the wedding!!!
We have come to an agreement. We will not talk about the wedding until February 1st. And each time I talk about it, I push it back a day. What I don’t understand is why did he ask me if he didn’t want to plan a wedding? Weirdo.
I leave back to Canada this week so we are doing a spreadsheet this week about where to have the wedding. This has bought him one week of non-wedding talk in February.
Doesn’t he understand we have to set a date? Pick where we are getting married so our guests have time to plan? A venue?
I swear, once that is done, it will be a few months of hardly any wedding talk.
Well, maybe not.
I have this ring on my finger! I want to talk wedding!
I did buy wedding magazines. I have done late night research. I have asked my flower girls to be in the wedding. I have even asked a couple of my friends to be bridesmaids (this is going to be a long and painful task as you can imagine. Right now I can have four or EIGHT!!!!) I have even already fought with my mum. And I have tried on my first dress. At Harrods. It was hideous.
Alas, after the first feverish week my wedding planning has calmed down. I am not staying up until three staring wide-eyed at the screen and the many possibilities. I am no longer tricking the Engineer into looking at a picture on the Internet.
I am, however, starting a wedding show next week. And hopefully hosting a television show about weddings will make planning mine so much easier.