Wedding armageddon is nigh

So, OK.

The wedding is in less than two weeks and, I’ll be honest, I am quietly shitting myself.

I can’t sleep, I’m dreaming of worst-case scenarios and obsessed with checking the actual temperature of my feet on WebMD as if it is a real affliction.

Oh it’s normal, they say. It’s just jitters, they say.

What’s not helping is that many people are loving the fact that I am feeling a bit of Kardashian dread about my wedding day.

‘Hahaha, are you getting nervous?’ is the question that isn’t helping my urge to throw up at the thought of my Speshal Day.

At first I actually answered the question with ‘yes, I am, parts of me feel quite unwell about it’, almost begging a follow-up question into my state of mind.

The follow-up question never comes. The original ‘are you OK’ question was quickly bookended with a ‘oh well, you’ll be fine’.

Naivety washed over me. It was just small talk. Next time I would lie… ‘nervous? No! More excited’ was my now stock-standard answer.

The thing is, wedding days, like an impending 30th, 40th, 50th, 60th birthday, can feel like the death clock. YOU’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME, it booms. And it’s so easy to be distracted by all the peripheral stuff – which is still really important, I mean, people have to be fed, right?

The bottom line is, I’ve been looking at this the wrong way. I have been treating my wedding day like the point of no return, my Armageddon *insert the obligatory ‘Armageddon outta here’ joke*

In fact, I’ve been doing most wedding things the wrong way, or getting caught up in things that I didn’t think would ultimately matter to me.  Most of the promises I made to myself, I’ve broken.

And it’s been liberating.

Let me explain the other rules I have since broken

The unplugged wedding concept

I came across this concept about two years ago, where guests were instructed to put all their devices down, to experience the ceremony in realtime, not through a viewfinder.

I originally thought this 21st century rule would be right up my alley. But I’ve changed my mind.

People are usually too engrossed in the ceremony to tweet or slap on a status update anyway. But part of me is super looking forward to going back through the hashtags and seeing my friends’ point of view from where they were on the night.  It’s almost like a new way of signing the guestbook.

Live tweeting and Facebooking? No problem. Our hashtag is #thewrywedding

The small stuff

Yes, I sweated the small stuff, I sweated over it all.

I never thought I would cry over the spirit-breaking saga called The Invitations.

I never imagined I would be delighted over finding a certain kind of rouched tablecloth or getting 50 white festoon lanterns for less than $100.

Or, best of all, getting our first RSVP back in the post. ‘Thrilling’ doesn’t even cut it.

Also, how it took me only an hour to all my wedding jewellery at Karrinyup shopping centre, all on sale.

Being ‘that girl’ on Facebook

The real reason I started this blog was to not fatigue my Facey friends with wedding talk.

FAIL.

Sure, the blog absorbed the brunt, but I am absolutely certain that a few mates have hidden me on their newsfeeds ‘Ugh, all she can talk about is those invitations, ugh’.

I tell you what though, Facebook was great when The Mister and I were at an impasse with what to pick for the entrée at the reception.  Twenty-seven comments on FB later, we picked the duck pate.

I got contact lenses

At one point I was going to be a cool bride-with-glasses. Until I made a snap decision to make an appointment to get contacts.

This was hands down, next to the invitation debacle, the most harrowing decision ever as my appointment was with Dr Hoofman Satan.  He was not nice, no bedside manner and instead of saying ‘well done’ when I got my right contact in for the first time, he said ‘See? All you needed was a bit of bullying’.

*when I didn’t get them in, he would just say, ‘well, that’s a fail’. Seriously.

No. It did not help that I had this cretin on my shoulder as I am trying to stick wet plastic cups to my eyeballs.

Fellow glasses-wearers, choose your eye doctor wisely.

Workmates and previous weddings

I broke the serious cardinal rule of either ‘invite everyone from work, or no one at all’.

I invited some people from work and some not. I am yet to feel the ramifications of this. And it’s not like it’s a big office either. On a good day, there are eight of us.

:/

The other cardinal rule I have broken is ‘if you were invited to their wedding you should return the favour’.

This kind of goes hand-in-hand with shutting the hell up on Facebook.  If you were of a calculating mind, you could work out when I sent out the invitations and in doing the math, you could work out if you were invited or not.

The worst thing is, I know noses are already out of joint. I get that.  The fact is, I would love to be in a position to keep this rule. I’m not.

I’ve been in this position before where I have expected to be at a friend’s wedding and the invitation never turned up. I got pissed off about it, yes. But then, I didn’t know the circumstances behind it.

Our reasoning is keeping our numbers down. This means we’re able to entertain our guests without worrying about getting out the emergency Visa card at the end of the night to make up having an extra six guests because we felt guilty.

Wedding websites and apps

When I got engaged, downloaded about five wedding apps onto my phone. All I can say is, thank baby cheeses they were free. I didn’t use any of them. Same goes for my membership on The Knot –

Waste of time for me. The best thing I used was a piece of paper and a pen. And if I didn’t have one handy, I would make a voice memo on my iPhone and make a note of it. The other best thing was to open an email that’s just for wedding stuff. I used Gmail as it was super-searchable.

And keeping a track on the guestlist? I’m putting my ex-ABC radio skills to use by sticking a massive piece of butchers paper to the wall and writing my colour-coded notes directly on to it.

Exercise and beauty

Less than two weeks’ out, I haven’t done anything different to my normal routine. I have not had a six-month beauty plan of regular massages, facials and paraffin wax manicures.

It’s been the normal Neutrogena cleanser with makeup remover, Witch Hazel toner and Olay Total Effects moisturiser for as long as I can remember.  Every other day I use Clean and Clear Morning Burst as a scrub.

The only thing I have been doing is moisturising the hell out of my hands. I am a bit of a cuticle biter (yes, it is super disgusting) so I’ve been using Eulactol Cuticle and Nail cream and all my fingertips have healed up really well.

The day before, I will go and see The Eyebrow King and drop into a chain-store nail bar to get an express manicure.

Seriously. That is it. I haven’t even made an appointment to get my legs waxed.

And the exercise? Many brides ramp up their gym habits in the weeks before their Speshal Day… but I got a little lost. I ended up going to pump three to four times a week…. then I just went to the pub instead.

So there’s not much to say about that…

The Wedding Budget

OK, so I have a confession to make. I used some of our wedding savings to pay for the rates on my Kalgoorlie property. And a dress on ASOS.

Reading back over these broken rules, I feel a bit more normalised. There are going to be some changes up ahead, but essentially I will the same mistake-making person.

It’s not that The Mister isn’t aware of these flaws either (except using the wedding money on rates and a dress)  – and yet he still wants in on this.

This nervous, sick-like, coldish feet feeling? I bring it up every single time with him. And we talk about it. More often than not, it’s about the stuff I’ve just mentioned – the budget, the eye doctor, the fucking invitations.

When I muster the courage to say, ‘I’m not alright, I’m really scared and I’m frightened and feel really conflicted’, he never takes it personally, because I think he knows that something would truly be wrong if I was Susie-High-School about it all the time.  My wide-eyed fear, and my uneasy quietness is actually the recognition of the gravity of all this – what others refer to as ‘what really matters’.

This is exactly what I am taking so seriously.

It’s just easier to be distracted by centrepieces.

And let’s be honest… there’s always divorce.

KIDDING.

(I’m not really kidding, there’s always divorce)

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