Saturday Is Still Part of This Week!!!!!

So, this is what I was saying.

First, I am the first one to admit that I burn hours each week looking at other people’s wedding online. HOURS!

But.

Yes, getting married is a super-fun, important and momentous occasion, I totally and completely get where the excitement comes from. However. Since D’oh and I got engaged, I have gotten the distinct impression that I am not as on the ball/obsessed with my wedding as I should be.

So far, every conversation about the crazy looking ring that I am obsessed with on my left hand has begun with some version of the question, “What are your colors?”

To which I respond: “…”

Which in turn is greeted with, “Your colors?! The color theme of your wedding?!?”

To which I have no response. Why can’t I have all the colors? I’m not the colors girl. I have never been strongly associated with a specific color to my knowledge and there is not a given color theme that has marked the majority of my life. And I read these web sites where these lovely and excited girls are ticked that their MOH (maid of honor, not, as I had originally believed, Monkey of Hell) are not fully on board with their color scheme of celadon, celery, and cucumber. (Because EVERYBODY looks good in celery!) One girl’s best friend for real emailed her and bitched her out for choosing teal, when she KNEW that the best friend had always wanted teal since the day she was given the absolutely wrong priorities by her mother!

Why do I know this? Because these lovely and excited girls are posting every single teeny tiny miniscule itty bitty detail of their wedding planning on the Internet. And yes, I’m reading them, so I have no room to be even whispering, let alone talking, but this has struck me as decidedly strange, and a little deflating.

Why am I not taking hours out of work to track every new post on the Washington, DC board of theknot.com? Am I not as excited about being married? (I object to this question, I totally am excited!) Am I not as on the ball as they are and so they have more time than I to post and then post and then respond to every post about their giant poofy dress? (Not unlikely, I’m not exactly known for being ahead of the game, more of a cram the night before kind of girl right here) Why do I refer to D’oh as D’oh and not my DH (Dear Hubby or some such nonsense that makes my skin, literally, try to crawl away from my eyeballs every time I read it) or my FI (having given up the cussing, I can’t really go into what I thought that meant, but apparently it means fiancé…who knew?)?

I think it’s because I was just not brought up to be the girl who plans your wedding starting when you are in 1st grade (which reminds me, I just was reminded about Tom Thumb weddings. They are creepy. Please quit it.). I was raised to be the girl who had her own life and if she met a nice, kind, freakishly tall dork-o who will use every paper product around including post-its! EXCEPT tissues to blow his nose, who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, so be it.

And I have decided that that is ok. I’m going to do things the way I think is most reflective of the way D’oh and I are hoping that our life will be. I’m not going to wear a tiara, especially not one that can then be made into some nasty ass choker that I would never pay myself to wear. I’m going to insist that the wedding party wear exactly what they feel best in, because that is certainly what I am going to do, and I’m going to invite every child and +1 that pops into my head. This other stuff, this obsessive stuff, this stuff about monogrammed aisle runners and candy buffets, I have finally come to realize, is silly silly fluff and not something that JUST I am missing the appeal of.

Our wedding is going to be a super fun rollicking good time where people I like (and some that I’ve never met but sound lovely) will come and eat a reallllly good cake and wish us well. (That, and hopefully provide us with a KitchenAid mixer because I looooooooooovvvvvve it!) And that is enough.