Making cuts

I already know that this is the kind of post that will get folks heated in the comments. However, I would like to discuss what has been happening with one of my guests over the past couple of days, culminating today in my more or less dis-inviting her from the wedding. (This dis-invitation is somewhat along the lines of movies where the employee says, "I QUIT!" and the boss says, "No, you're fired!" Kind of like that, only without comic relief.)

I'll give it to you straight: I have been sweating bullets over the guest list for the past couple of months. I've been given a lot of grief from various family members, and I have created grief for myself. I got it to a place where we could all be content, and we went about sending out the save-the-dates.

Our M.O. for guests was the following:
1) spouses of guests invited, of course
2) serious S.O.s invited (fiances, or living together)

Most of the single people coming to the wedding are either not traveling to come to it, or they know lots of people who will be attending. No single people on the guest list were invited knowing no other guests.

A former co-worker who is about my parents' age signed our wedding website guest book last week, and said that she was going to bring her sister-in-law as her guest.

I wrote her back and gently explained that due to financial constraints, we were asking people to attend as would be addressed on the envelope (i.e., all "plus-ones" would receive an invitation, but no one was to bring a random guest). I said I had really struggled with the guest list, and was left only with this option. I reminded her that she would know four other people at the wedding, and thanked her for her understanding. I really did try to be cheerful in my reply, transparent in my reasoning, and firm in my resolve.

I won't give you the nitty gritty of every back and forth, but this unleashed a torrent of emails from this guest, challenging me on every level for my decision. Irritatingly, she also assured me that she was not taking "this snub personally," although she clearly was, and kept signing her emails "warmly." The long and short of it was that she wanted to bring her sister-in-law as a buddy mainly for the trip, which was long for her.

Well, as much as I would like to pay my caterer $150 for her to have a subway buddy, I can't afford that.

The last email she sent me was on Friday, wherein she began, "After all we have been through together...." and concluded by letting me know in an exceptionally passive-aggressive way how disappointed she was in me.

I thought about my reply for two days so that I wouldn't write back in the heat of the moment. This afternoon, I wrote the following:

With all that we have been through, I invited you to my wedding.

I explained to you the reasons for how the guest list has been developed, and it is what it is, I regret that it's not to your liking.

The card you received was not the invitation, those have yet to be sent. It was just a save-the-date.

I don't know what else to say except that I have a million things on my plate right now, the guest list is incredibly complicated, and I don't want to to be asked again to justify our decisions. I was hoping to be able to share this with you, I'm sorry we couldn't work it out.

I then emailed the whole exchange to my mom, who quickly called me at work to try to talk me off the ledge. I appreciated that; my mom was exceptionally calm, reasonable, and understanding. She really chose her words to me carefully.

Ultimately, I know there are a lot of people out there who will avoid conflict at any cost. I am a person who will avoid feeling bullied at any cost, and I was feeling bullied here, big time. This is a sensitive subject for me, because I just went through a painful experience with graduate school where I also felt bullied, and I just feel fierce right now (and I don't mean that in the Tyra way.)

I am not giving you the entire story because I know all the he-said-she-said can be difficult to follow and not interesting to anyone outside those involved.

I realize that I was tough, that many people will think I should have just relented. I realize I am setting myself up for judgment here, and that's fine. Maybe I did the right thing, maybe I did the wrong thing, but it is done.

The reason I share this story is that besides all the kooky "bride brain" and floral meltdowns we may have, there are ugly parts of wedding planning, too. I bet a lot of you have had ugliness (hopefully, many of you haven't). For those of you who have, even if your story is much different than mine, I wanted to share this with you. I just wanted to say, here is the crappy thing that happened here. Here are the grey areas, the bad behavior, the misccommunication. For what it's worth.

drying my tears with the pages of a book

Last week I cried nearly every time I thought about the wedding. It started with a fairly benign if slightly pushy email from the best man, which G. forwarded to me. It continued with a discussion between me and my supremely supportive MOH regarding bridesmaids' shoes. The reason I didn't cry these two times is because I was at work, and I have a no crying at work policy, which has only been broken once when I was a waittress and someone stole $80 off a table of mine, which I then had to pay myself.

Anyhow.

Finally, on Sunday, I did cry, and that was because I was having a nice day at home alone with G. and I had the time and space. I heard once, I think on Oprah, that people tend to cry when they feel safe. Interesting!

I realized that I am having some very mixed feelings about the wedding, which could be identified as below:

1.) I am pretty Type B, meaning I don't care if stuff is perfect, I just want it to be good.
2.) Although most brides are obsessed with details, there are a lot of details about which I really don't give a fig, such as bridesmaids' shoes.
3.) I have difficulty comprimising, if I am not the person who suggested comprimise.
4.) I hate being told that I have to do something, or made to feel like I don't have a choice.
5.) Even though I am Type B, I do worry about the pressure to have a totally awesome wedding that is creative and original and totally expresses exactly what G. and I are about.
6.) I worry about spending too much money.
7.) I worry about feeling/acting/appearing greedy.

I think this may have been bridal meltdown #1. Of how many, we'll see.

I went straight to my local bookstore that I love, McNally Jackson Books. I bought two books that I hope would bring me back from the edge, and so far so good.

The first is Altared (edited by Colleen Curran) has a very satisfying picture of a bride in a fabulous dress tearing her hair out. The book is a collection of essays about the tumult of wedding planning, and are decidedly not of the fairy-tale wedding variety. They are honest and touching and made me feel better. I especially liked Amy Sohn's and Dani Shapiro's essays.

I also bought Offbeat Bride: Taffeta-Free Alternatives for Independent Brides (Ariel Meadow Stallings). I haven't started it yet, but I read the Offbeat Bride blog and although I am not a goth or Ren-Fair bride, I appreciate the blog's committment to freedom and indepence and feeling like you can get away from the Knot if you want.

Having finished Altared, I am already feeling a lot better. I can't wait to start the Offbeat Bride book. I also feel a lot better being honest that I don't give a rat's ass about bridesmaids' shoes! It's the dirty truth.

style me...similar

I have some anxiety about individuality. When I was in high school, my sense of self was directly -- and militantly -- linked to the kind of clothes I wore, the kind of music I listened to, and the kind of people I hung out with. This is the case for lots of high school kids, I know. It is the essence of high school! And like most people, I discovered when I went to college and generally wised up that this approach is really limiting. I also realized that it is totally exhausting.

I felt all this pressure to express myself through my clothes and accessories, especially. If I were to categorize myself in a nutshell (which, let's face it, is also what high school's all about), I was one of those early 90s girls who wore combat boots, black eyeliner, dyed my hair red, was super into Courtney Love, Jane's Addiction and Nirvana. I hung around with people who threw around terrible words like "poser." God, it was tedious!

Ever since then, I have really resisted expressing myself through anything but my personality. I am not a particularly avant-garde dresser: I like to look cute, but I am not pushing the envelope. I shop at chain stores, cuz that's where the sales are.

And while most 31-year-olds have graduated high school, in some senses I have not, because I work in SoHo. For those of you outside of New York City, Soho is like high school all over again, except instead of cheerleaders you have models (everywhere!) you have dandy men, fashion people, media people, rich people, who are definitely thin, fabulous, original, avant-garde, exotic... and all checking each other out. Usually I don't give a fig what anyone thinks about how I look, but there are the occasional days (oh, about twice a week) when I have cobbled together my crappiest un-ironed Old Navy outfit from three years ago. And then I see some 16 year old in hot pants with a fabulous tan and just the right haircut and aviator glasses, and I think, "For the love of god, what a-hole invented this neighborhood? And why didn't I have those thighs when I was 16?!"

What does this have to do with weddings?

I have the same kind of anxiety about expressing myself through my wedding. I feel this push-and-pull between creating a wonderful event where we manage to both meaningfully celebrate our love and committment, share this intimacy somehow with 100 people (also in meaningful ways), create a fun event where people have a great time and say to me later "your wedding was so awesome!" And I have details, but not too many details, and things that are planned just enough to reflect my aesthetic (do I have an aesthetic?) but not over-planned, because I am not channeling the opulent bat mitzvahs of my youth.

And then I am like, how do I come up with the ideas to make it just so? And well, one thing I do is read a lot of Weddingbee. The bees are so diverse that I rarely feel like I am reading the same thing over and over again.

But on the other hand, when I read some other wedding blogs (and okay, occasionally on W'bee, not gone lie), I think, how can I have this at my wedding when I have seen this 6,000 other places? Even if it is something I like so much. I still think that.

I guess it comes back to the adage from Offbeat Bride that I already mentioned: your wedding is not a competition. I am not a competitive girl, nor a perfectionist, so I don't think I am really at risk of falling prey to wanting the best, most fabulous, memorable, full-of-firsts wedding. But I also don't one where everyone's all, "Oh, yeah. I saw that on the wedding blogs," or "So-and-so had that at her wedding. Two years ago."

How do you strike a balance? Should I just let go and, you know, que sera sera? Do you guys ever worry about this kind of stuff?

Sigh.

whose day?

There is one thing that I hear all the time from people:
it's YOUR wedding! you can make it what you want!

But the reality seems to be that this is not "my" our even "our" wedding. This is a family wedding. I think the idea is nice that I have this one special day when I can really go crazy and have all this great stuff just as I want it. But that's not the reality. We have a lot of voices in our ears, not the least of which are both sets of parents. Even the Best Man (who was a bit of a groomzilla himself) has opinions. I don't want to do this all me-me-me, but on the other hand, it gets exhausting trying to please everyone. Or at least pacify them!

I know that idea of "pleasing everyone" is a wedding cliche at this point. But if that's true, why does everyone tell me it's my day? It's totally not. Which is fine, but let's call it what it is, right?

Do any of you guys there feel like there are some serious contradictions going on here?

Re-enter Xanax

So we went to this totally great wedding on Long Island, the one which I refuse to let be identified as the Bus Mishap Wedding, but just to refresh your memory: yeah, that one.

The wedding was July 11th, and the next morning, July 12th, the bride's mother oh-so casually was like, "Oh, so you guys are five months out, to the day! December 12th, right!?"

SHIT! Can I say that in front of a bride's mother? Can I say that on Weddingbee?

Neither G. nor I had really been paying attention. We got engaged in February, when there were three whole seasons between us and matrimony. Now we are five months out.

We went on with our day, had some good bagels and weird bacon, drove home, whatever. Then at midnight, we were laying in bed, and of course both of our minds started racing with to-do lists. (Why does your mind wait til you're trying to sleep to start racing?)

This is how we have approached the wedding so far: I read Weddingbee every single day, and make mental notes. I deal with the fun stuff, like the dress, shoes, photographer. We deal with the urgent stuff like budgets and guest list. But aside from singlehandedly designing our letterpress STDs, G. has not been suuuuuuper involved.

I guess this "five months" thing got to him. I had a totally bonkers day at work today and was not covering my Gmail with my usual vigilance. I logged on and had three emails from him: one about researching iPod weddings, one about planning the afterparty (priorities!) and one about how he entered into a full-blown panic last night, which I hadn't really noticed.

Wow, all of a sudden he is like, Mr. Wedding. I even went so far as to introduce him to "kvetch" on indiebride, and sent him links to Weddingbee about honeymoon budgets and invitation suites. We have a date later this week to get into super planning mode for the wedding which seems all of a sudden to be around the corner.

What lit a fire under your fiance's ... um.... behind?

Enter Xanax

This weekend we went out to Long Island to help celebrate the marriage of our very good friends, P. and S. My fiance was a groomsman, and they are very special to us, so I think we both felt invested in the entire event in a way that neither of us really had at other weddings. Frankly, we were super f'ing excited!

This is the 2nd of three weddings that I'll attend in the time between my engagement and my own wedding. I keep thinking I'll bring along a little notebook or something to jot down ideas, must-dos or must-don'ts (yipes). But I never do, of course, because I am getting ready, late, trying to fit a bunch of crap in a tiny purse and am for sure prioritizing the camera and lip gloss over the pen and notebook.

That said, I have also found that I remember the must-dos and must-don'ts without even writing them down.

Here are a list of three things that I learned at the exquisite and joyful celebration that I was a part of this weekend:

1.) Definitely DO play "Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)" by Bruce Springsteen during the reception.
2.) Definitely DON'T have any D.I.Y. projects that involve tying 175 tiny bows by yourself two days before the wedding.
3.) Definitely DO have a Plan B if you hire a god-forsaken bus company to transport 50 of your guests -- including the groom's parents and old ladies visiting from Ireland -- 20 miles to the ceremony.

Curious? Ok, here is what happened:

Everyone was waiting in the lobby of the Marriott for the bus, which was 40 minutes late. It turned out the bus was 40 minutes late because it was sitting in the parking lot on the other side of the hotel. We all piled in, and the bus smelled like a delectable combination of fish and pee. Then, we get going and it stalls out twice in the parking lot.

(oh-- here's number 4, a life lesson: 4.) trust your instincts to go get your car when you're in a bus that stalls out twice within 50 feet.)

We made it about a mile before a final shudder and stomach-turning "click" of the A/C turning off indicated that the bus had died.

I'd like to say we all piled off, but we didn't. We sat in the fishy, uriney heat until some people in the front meandered off, then the people in the middle, and aw, hell, let's all get off.

Since my fiance was in the wedding party, I was traveling with a girlfriend whose husband was also a groomsman. We made quick friends with a federal prosecutor and his lawyer wife from Miami, who regaled us with stories of the drug and porn industries for the better part of an hour and a half.

Solutions were slow to come, and we all stood on the side of the highway on Long Island, outside a Cheesesteak Factory. Eventually, an ice cream truck pulled up, and a few people got ice cream, including the completely good-for-nothing bus driver, who retired back to his seat to enjoy his ice cream while the rest of us worked the phones and tried to think of new ways to say "chin up, it could totally be worse!" to the groom's mother.

Eventually, a guy in an SUV pulled over to see what was the trouble. He offered to take the groom's parents to the church, and they accepted (even in the light of a bunch of axe murderer jokes coming from one of the guests). Next, the wedding planner sent a 20-seat limo, which took away the rest of the old ladies, people who had traveled from abroad, and anyone speaking at the wedding. Finally, a fleet of 5 cabs turned up and we piled into one of them, and arrived at the ceremony about halfway through.

It had been postponed about an hour, but finally they couldn't wait anymore. The priest was just beginning the homily when my friend and I arrived, and we were just in time for the vows that followed.

Standing on the side of the road wasn't actually that bad, aside from the wind which kept blowing my chiffon skirt every which way. Well, that and the fact that just looking at the groom's mother, and thinking about the stress the bride and groom must have been feeling, totally almost put me over the edge. But it was a cool, sunny day, and I met some nice people, so all in all it wasn't that bad. Nevertheless, I was a wreck by the time we got there. The drama and anxiety, combined with a wicked hangover from the rehearsal dinner, and I was a basketcase. I took one look at my friend in her gorgeous dress and veil and burst into tears. (I've never cried at a wedding before!).

But I have to tell you, it was serious high drama. It totally sucked for about an hour and a half. But once we got to the reception (and the groom's father had his Jameson's) everything was totally fine. It was wonderful. I wouldn't say the Great Bus Incident of 2009 is a funny story yet, but I am sure it will be one day, because it was a beautiful wedding, two people I love very much are joined in marriage, and we all had a total blast.

Still -- good to have a Plan B for your transportation.

the wedding party - part 2

So, last we spoke, I was telling you how I was a bit bent out of shape how my BFF didn't seem to give a rip that I am getting married, and I was reconsidering my wedding party.

This is what I had in place: I knew I wanted my sister-from-another-mother to be my maid of honor. A.T. and I had grown up together, known each other since we were in utero. Our mothers are friends, our families vacation together, do Thanksgiving together. She is more than a friend, she is a given in my life. She is also an event-planner (helpful!) incredibly energetic, and organized. The perfect MOH. She started acting like an MOH even before I asked her, planning my shower about 45 minutes into my engagement.

Then I knew I wanted my very good friend B. to be my "bridesdude." B. is a friend of mine from work. We shared a cubicle for 5 years, and talked like girlfriends. You know. We've been through a lot together: the Bush administration, the Mets, my meeting G., the birth of his son.

B. is one of those guys who plastered his cubby with pictures of his wife and sons. His family was first on his mind all the time. I really admired B.'s marriage, his family life. We had talked about my relationship a lot, and he gave me a lot of good an unique insight ("marriage is easy!"). I consider B. my "marriage mentor" and I knew I wanted him to stand up with me.

We knew we wanted to have a small-ish wedding party, so I was limiting it to three. Since the debacle with A., I had a third spot to fill.

This was tough. I considered some people who were part of a larger group of friends, and decided I didn't want anyone to feel left out. I considered one girl who was my best friend in college, but we were working on repairing our relationship from a falling-out and I wasn't sure she was ready. (We're great now, and she's doing a reading.) I considered a very new friend I have, because she has been totally supportive, and I thought it might be a fun bonding thing to have a really new friend stand up with me.

Ultimately, I decided on my wonderful friend L., who was my other college BFF. She lives in San Francisco, which is maddeningly far away from me. To be honest, L. and I struggle with staying in touch. The time difference is a bear, and we're both wicked busy (like everyone). We love each other though, and are determined to keep our friendship alive.

L. is someone who always makes me laugh, who relaxes me and makes me feel good and happy. She is someone with whom I can quote Austin Powers with for the 9 millionth time and crack up. I decided I needed someone up there who will chill me out and make me feel happy. That is what L. does, and she is awesome.

So that's the wedding party. The issues with A. are unresolved. I don't know what will happen. We sent the save the dates out yesterday, and I bet she got hers today. I wonder what she'll think. It will be interesting to see how this progresses, and I'll be sure to keep you updated on late-breaking news.

How did you choose your wedding party?

the wedding party - headache part 1

I had thought a lot about my wedding party before I got engaged. We even talked about it a bit, during that weird period where we knew we were going to get engaged, but it hadn't happened yet (more on that later, yeesh). So, like a lot of other stuff I had it all wrapped up, in the bag, whatever, before we were even engaged.

Then things changed.

I have this best friend A., who I have been like peas and carrots with since we were 14.

We met when I complimented her on her nailpolish and Hypercolor shirt (this was the early 90s, ok? You young folks can go ahead and Google "Hypercolor!").

We fell in love when I came over to her house for a sleepover and did my spot-on Axl Rose impression, swaying all over the dang place to "Patience."

We have had some serious ups and downs over the years, but that's how things go in long-term relationships. Lately, we've really been mostly having ups. Then I told her I had gotten engaged (after two days of trying to get her on the phone). She acted like I told her what I had for lunch that day.

We talked again two weeks later, for her birthday, no mention of my engagement. I didn't see her or talk to her for months, and we had a very tense dinner about a week ago. For whatever reason, she is not at all interested in the fact that I am getting married.

Now, I am not one to bash people over the head with my wedding. I am not all me-me-me. It's not like I am being all annoying about it. She hasn't even given me a chance to be annoying!

There's a lot more I could say about this, but I'll spare you the gory details. I know a lot of us have gone through similar things, and Miss Cloud posted a wonderful and honest post about it.

My and A.'s relationship is complicated, and it can be complicated when people get engaged. It can bring up insecurities, sadness, lonlieness, envy, all sorts of feelings. I know all this. Yet I thought for sure A. was going to be a bridesmaid. I had never imagined another possibility.

But obviously, if she wasn't the slightest bit interested in my wedding (for whatever reason), I wasn't going to have her be in the wedding.

Oh, snap. Now what to do? Well, for one, stay tuned!

I don't think I even have a regular style, much less a bridal style.

A friend at work gave me a book about finding my bridal style. I looked at the book and there are a LOT of quizzes, and I think I am supposed to sit down with G. and have meaningful conversations about color schemes. Which reminds me: we don't have a color scheme. I was having a conversation about this color scheme issue lately, and my friend said, "Well, what colors are your bridesmaids wearing?"

"They're wearing black. And one of them's my friend Bill. He'll be wearing a black suit."

"Huh."

Yeah. So, no color scheme. And no theme, really. Unless our theme is "getting married."

Early on, I read the following phrase: my wedding is a celebration, not an event. I think that is my bridal style. I realized quickly that I would have to develop an easy-to-remember motto to help me keep my head.

I am in this weird place, six months out, where a lot of the major decisions have been made. We have the date, the venue, the wedding party, dress, shoes, photographer, officiant, hotel. People (especially at work) keep asking me why I am not going totally bananas. I don't know! Should I be? I don't carry around a binder with ideas or anything.

I think I am just trying to make a celebration, not an event. Not a big freaking to-do. Part of this has to do with the fact that parts of our wedding will be pretty non-traditional (see again: Bill the bridesdude). Also, I don't obsess over details. And I like being really decisive. There is nothing that drives me more nuts than to endlessly research, compare, haggle, worry. I like to pick something and move on. I don't often second-guess myself (which, to be sure, has drawbacks!).

I guess I am trying to figure out have a superfantastic wedding without being ALL ABOUT MY WEDDING all the time. Or without spending 5 hours at a time on Etsy choosing the perfect this or that.

Do you have any misgivings about how you are "supposed" to feel about your wedding?