The speech

This speech has been possibly the most problematic part of the wedding.

It’s not that I couldn’t think of anything to say, the problem was (and as a van Reyk this is so surprising) I had too much to fit into a ‘reasonable’ speech time period.

I started out sure that I would base it around my other great love – food.

I was going to tell you about memorable food moments from our almost 7 year long romance (that’s Chris and my romance, my love affair with food has been a lifelong commitment), such as our time in Thailand. We were a couple of hours into a long boring bus ride, breakfast had been a while ago and I was starting to get hungry. When I get hungry it’s like a storm brewing. First I get quiet, then like distant thunder the irrational comments will start – like ‘why do you have to always wear that hat you know I hate that hat YOU ARE OPPRESSING ME WITH YOUR FRIGGING HORRIBLE MONSTROSITY OF A HAT’. Luckily as I am now aware of this tiny ‘issue’ I always make sure to keep snacks on me. I pulled out some biscuits and took a bite.

Devastating

The biscuit was two cheesy biscuits (yum) sandwiching a horrible lemon paste (Cheese and lemon?! What monster came up with this!). I explained to Chris with tears in my eyes, that I could not eat these biscuits.

Chris took the packet off me, broke them all in half, and ate the paste so I could have the yummy cheese biscuits. I looked at him, and realised that this man truly was a keeper

Why? Because he sees me at my worst and doesn’t run the other way screaming. In fact, usually he starts to laugh (which reminds me that occasionally I take things far too seriously), and then helps me work out how to banish my worries. Which generally involves feeding me.

But

Before I could even finish drafting up this magnificent monologue or reminiscing over all the special foods we’ve shared, we did the wedding paperwork and my speech plans changed.

Because

We did the paperwork at the registry office because we wanted today to be intimate and didn’t think we needed a celebrant just to sign the forms. The whole event was kept very minimal as we also didn’t want it to detract from what today means to us.

The following is a list of what this low key event entailed –

A 12 hour round trip to Berry and back due to unforseen car dying circumstances

A ceremony constantly interrupted by various family members (glare at daddy Paul)

A bar tender questioning if Chris, our good friend Alex, and I were planning to ‘share’ a hotel room that night

A fire alarm leading to the evacuation of said hotel

To say it was an eventful 24 hours would be an understatement.

And I thought - this is it! This is what the speech should be about. How despite whatever chaos is engulfing us Chris can always make me see the sunny side of things, how even if we drive for 3 hours, are stuck in a broken down car for another 3 hours, and then have to get a 4 and a half hour train ride home, he still makes the day fun.

But

Then, as I wrote the draft I realised that in fact all I didn’t need to write a speech at all.

All I needed to do was steal Chris’ material. Because it’s better.

The night of the wedding paperwork as we FINALY got to drink our champagne on the balcony of the hotel we were laughing at everything that happened and Chris said that together, we make the best stories.

And that’s why I want to spend my life with Chris, because I can’t think of anything more beautiful than knowing that our bank of stories will never run dry or go stale, and that each day we will create a new one (or ten) and that happy or sad or nice or mad, they will always be there for us in the same way that we always have been and will be there for each other.

I would like to propose a toast, to the man I love so very much, Christopher John Frape

                                                                **************************

OK enough mushy stuff.

Mary - So when Chris and I decided to get married we knew we wanted to keep it low key, however even a small wedding needs many hands to make it relatively light work. I hate to bore you all with further speeches but it’s really important to both of us that all the people that made this day possible be publically named and shamed.

Firstly I have to say a huge thank you to my mum and my Aunty Heather for being a combined Mother-of-the-bride force to be reckoned with. Mum was the quiet organiser behind this all (I was the noisy one) and so many people here today owe their stylish outfits to the tireless efforts of Aunty Heather. She also sewed the gorgeous quilt which hangs in the hall.

My two fathers are also responsible for key ingredients that make today so enjoyable, of course Daddy Paul for the haute cuisine, and my stepfather Robert for the wine, sparking and wedding cake.

Chris - My mum Jan needs to be thanked for her craft and sewing assistance, and her and Wayne for their providing my other great love – beer.

Mary -Also I would like to say thank you to Chris’ dad John who sadly passed away last year, but who had a hand in creating my wonderful groom and for that I’ll be eternally grateful. I know he would be so very proud of Chris today.

My amazing bridesmaids need to be showered with praise and adoration for their tireless support,

Claire for overseeing the gorgeous hall decorating, registry duty and countless shopping expeditions,

Maddy for making me feel like she was by my side the whole time despite being so far away, and for being ready and willing no matter the task – even finding a dress in an hour and a half!

Rachel for being my unofficial psychiatrist and consistently reminding me that crying for joy, happiness or sadness is all OK.

and finally Alex for being so patient during endless shopping trips, Bringing the bad assness when needed, and for discussing minute details repeatedly with me for hours.

Mary - A giant thank you to my groomsmen, to Shannon for traveling to Cambodia to purchase the finest silk ties, Ash and Ant for providing me with an awesome bucks night (and ensuring I came back in one piece) and Adrian for always being a great friend albeit always living in either Kiama or QLD – always providing me with and escape from the city.

You guys rock

Mary -Thank you to Helen for organising the yummy tea candles

Thank you to our beautiful flower girls for all of their help in handing out the bonbonniere

Thank you to Margo for hosting the ceremony almost without tears

Chris -A huge thank you to Robbo and Blondie for excelling the roles of DJ and photographer (better known as the atmosphere and memories)

Mary - Sian Becky and Nicole, thank you for making up for my lack of skills in makeup, Hair and stain removal. I would be a bedraggled bride without the three of you.

Thank you to our recreation officers Dan, Shaun and Olly for providing sports today, and everyone should be warned that their red and yellow cards hold sway off the court as well.

Thank you to the army of helpers that I roped in to assist Daddy Paul in the food preparation, and thank you also for putting up with his chef dramatics.

Nanda Thank you for Fran’s beautiful flowers

Cara and Laura thank you for being my high heel support team and helping me through my last minute wrapping madness, without you both and your wine I would have cracked for sure

Finally we would like to say thank you to everyone for coming and making today so special, it really means so much to us both having you all here and we would like everyone to raise their glasses in a toast to yourselves.

Toast

The ceremony

Mary & Chris’s Wedding

Margo:

Greetings friends and family, and welcome to this day of celebration.  We are united to witness the marriage of Mary Elizabeth Helen van Reyk and Christopher John Frape.  They ask your blessing on this joyful occasion.

Mary and Chris's understanding of the true meaning of marriage has resulted from many influences; their families, their friends, and their own beliefs.  We are here not only strengthen the binds of Chris and Mary's love for each other, but also to bring family and friends together to celebrate these same said bonds that hold us all together.

What defines Mary and Chris’s love today will change, and grow to new depth in the future.  This ceremony is the celebration of a single stage in a much larger process that is the love between 2 people.  The promises made today, and the ties that are bound here, greatly strengthen your union.

Today we are celebrating with a binding ceremony: each cord placed on their joined hands represents a promise that Mary and Chris are making to each other.  At the end of the ceremony I will tie the cords together and bind the couple.

We shall now begin:

Will you share each other's pain and seek to ease it?

M & C: Yes.

Margo: And so the binding is made.  Join your hands.

[The first cord is draped across Mary and Chris’s hands.]

Will both of you look for the brightness in life and the positive in each other?

M & C: Yes.

Margo: And so the binding is made.

[The second cord is draped across Mary and Chris’s hands.]

Will you share the burdens of each so that you both may grow in this union?

M & C: Yes.

Margo: And so the binding is made.

[The third cord is draped across Mary and Chris’s hands.]

Will you dream together and support each other’s separate dreams?

M & C: Yes.

Margo: And so the binding is made.

[The fourth cord is draped across Mary and Chris’s hands.]

Will you take the heat of anger and use it to temper the strength of this union?

M & C: We will.

Margo: And so the binding is made.

[The fifth cord is draped across Mary and Chris’s hands.]

Will you honour each other, and these promises you have made today?

M & C: We will.

Margo: And so the binding is made.

[The sixth cord is draped across Mary and Chris’s hands.]

The knots of this binding are not formed by these cords but instead by your vows.  Either of you may drop
the cords, for always you will hold in your own hands the making or breaking of this union.

[once the cords are tied together, they are removed.]

May all of Mary and Chris’ loved ones here today continue to witness and be part of this union because it is this love and support that has guided them here today.

May Mary and Chris know great love together, and may they live in the desire to always support each other in positive and uplifting ways.  May they strengthen one another in sorrow, share with one another in gladness, and be companions to each other in times of silence.  May their home be a haven, and wherever they are plagued by changing fortune, may they be united not in word and outward form alone, but by the presence in the hearts of each, of the deepening love they share.

You are husband and wife.

Celebrate with a kiss.

This isn't Kansas any more

I haven’t written about the wedding for quite a while, it’s definitely the elephant in the room. Actually it’s the opposite of an elephant because it’s the thing everyone wants to talk about. The. Only. Thing. I can see people latch onto it as a conversation topic as soon as they see me. I don’t get water cooler gossip at work anymore - just questions about table decorations. The fact I don’t have any planned is starting to create awkward silences. Oh and my boss, ooooooh my boss she’s giving me an ulcer. Every day I sit down and she asks me about the dress. I would rather if she asked me about the reports I clearly haven’t done, or why my breath sounds like gin, but no it’s always the bloody dress. Admittedly the dress is what my mind turns to as I lie awake at 3am, there is a slight hitch (a disintegrated bits at the front and now it’s with what seems to be the laziest seamstress in the world hitch) but I honestly DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT. And I don’t need her asking me at 8 in the morning with a vocal tone that lets me know I’ve missed her deadline for getting this sorted ‘Have you threatened the seamstress with bodily harm?’

The wedding is everywhere I turn, there is no escape anymore. My work desktop has work related documents and programs on the left hand of the screen, but now the right side is slowly filling and moving past the centre with wedding spread sheets and documents titled bizarre things like 'Where the heck am I going?' The other day I gave Chris a printed list of things he needs to do before the wedding, at the top I put a picture of a robust bride with a cigarette hanging out of the side of her mouth and a machine gun in her arms. ‘Look sweetie’ I said as I handed it to him ‘That’s what I’ll look like come March’.

Poor Chris! I’m marrying Chris so clearly I must feel some affection for him, but that’s all gone for now. I used to sit on the couch and stare at him while day dreaming about how much I loved him and it was so beautiful. Now when I stare at him I think ‘oh how I love him, but how the fuck do I say that in a 5 minute speech which includes thanking all the people who have made this wedding possible and has enough humour to keep people hooked but enough emotion to make them cry? Where is he up to on that fucking list I gave him? Why is he just sitting there and not hand cutting tiny love heart confetti to shower me with as he interpretive dances his marriage poem?’(OK so this isn’t actually happening, but it would be quite cool).

I looked at my calendar the other day and was hard pressed to find a couple of non-wedding task filled days. This is meant to be a low key wedding yet it’s consuming me, I’m teetering on the edge of losing myself to the bridezilla within. The other day as I was sucking my bleeding fingers (filled with pin holes as I slave over bunting people won’t even notice. That’s it - I’m making a new rule. Anyone that complements the bunting gets to take a bottle of wine home for justifying my insane obsession with material triangles) I realised what has happened. As a girl my favourite movie was The Wizard of Oz, and now I’m Dorothy. I went to sleep safe and sound in my own little bed, but now I’ve woken up in the midst of a marital tornado. From what I can gather from the movie when I land I will need a brain (for creating complex wedding documents), courage (for facing lazy seamstresses), a heart (not sure what that is for currently), a sense of home (I get it! That’s where the heart is!) and a bunch of little people who will cheer me up with their songs. There will be a long road to matrimony, appearing to be paved in gold but really it’s just glitter shed from all the previous brides (and their gowns) that have trod this path.

And at the end of this story? At the end I will go home. I will return to my beautiful couch, and stare at Chris lovingly thinking about how he is my tin man, lion and scarecrow, my Todo and aunty Em, my flying monkey (OK maybe not that) but most of all I will think about how I am now so happy. Because we will have had a beautiful wedding, we will have shared that day with all the people we love, and regardless of what I’m wearing it will be perfect. Oh and something about there being no place like home.

Marital advice

A few blocks away from mine and Chris’ apartment lives a man called Cliff. Cliff inhabits a caravan, and rents the adjoining garages of two houses on a little back lane. He runs his bike business out of these, using one as a workshop and the other for storage. Cliff is a salt of the earth kind of guy, an old school bloke who talks straight (‘See what you’ve done to your chain? You’ve fucked it mate’). He has a grown up daughter and I think there may have been a marriage somewhere in his past, but now it’s just him and his terrier Spinner.

I was heading down to pay an overdue bill for our latest bike service, and as I turned the corner into his lane I could see that he was enjoying a Saturday afternoon BBQ with his mates. All of them were about Cliff’s age and seemed cut from the same cloth.

I squared my shoulders and got into character.

With Cliff there’s a certain way deals are done, subtle social nuances that must be played out. I knew I had to apologise for the late payment, but I also had to do it in a way that played up to his ego (especially now that there was an audience)
‘Cliff! I just saw bloody Chris, told me he hadn’t paid the friggin bill, so I gave him a big slap on the wrist! What a dickhead!'

Cliff’s long grey haired friend lent in to contribute his 2 cents worth (he had helped with the bike servicing and was getting a cut of the profits) ‘Shoulda given him a slap on the forehead!!’

Much laughter ensued.

Cliff brushed off my apology and as we continued to chat I slipped him the money, which he put away without counting to show that he still trusted me. As wound up our transaction he suddenly remembered ‘Oh and I hear that Chris’ caught you, wearing a ring now are you?!’

‘Of course Cliff – he couldn’t let a beauty like me slip away! Who else would pay the bills?’

More laughter followed by raised beers to the happy couple.

I expected some zingers to follow, referring to ball and chains, or any other joyful wedded stereotypes.

Cliff started out –

‘Now Mary, my father once told me about marriage’

The blokes and I waited on baited breath for the joke

‘He said start out the way you want to finish’

I lent in waiting for the next line, but that was it. I looked around - everyone was very serious. A short fellow held his beer up and called out ‘unconditional love and respect’.

What?

I thanked them, said goodbye and walked away a little confused, where had this come from? What was with all the respect and love? Where was the sexism?

On further pondering I’ve realised that back in Cliff’s day that is what you did when a young couple got engaged. Those who were older and wiser (and had already been though the wars) would offer advice on maintaining a happy relationship. Courtships were also shorter, so relationship advice was more relevant - especially as most people wouldn’t have lived together first.

The majority of my parental figures (I have lots that fit into that category. Refer to my first blog entry for scandalous revelations) aren’t married, and although many are in long term relationships, and many more give me relationship advice (and listen to me whine) no one would think that because I’m now engaged they needed to sit down and give me a ‘talk’ about how to maintain a happy relationship. But do you know what? It was nice.

I often feel like I’m justifying getting married, it isn’t seen as a necessity or the institution it once was. I find myself trying to explain why we are doing it and defending our choice against scepticism (ps nice one Kim Kardashian for fucking it up for the rest of us). It was actually really sweet to have a group of relative strangers simply accept our decision and give beautiful advice.

What better goal than beginning and continuing with unconditional love? And slapping your partners’ forehead when actually it was both of your faults that a bill was paid late?

Thanks Cliff, thanks surrounding gentlemen, every one of you is a friggin legend and you dickheads made my bloody day.

The wedding plannner

I should have paid attention to the title.

‘The knot ULTIMATE WEDDING PLANNER’, sitting innocently on the charity bookshelf at work. Firstly, the joke in the title really sells the ‘crazy obsessive bridezilla having a laugh ha ha HA HA HA MY LIFE IS A MESS’ angle. Secondly, ultimate? That is quite the claim to make my friend, is there really no other book in the whole world including all languages that can better plan my wedding? Truly you are willing to put that statement out there? OK, that’s fine, but excessive use of capitals IS NEVER A GOOD THING.

The problem is that I didn’t asses the title. I put 50c in the jar, gave myself a pat on the back, and put the damned thing in my bag. Now it sits open next to me on the couch and the white bouquet on the cover actually seems to be eyeballing me with a look that says ‘What are you doing? Why aren’t you studying me? How do you expect to have THE ULTIMATE WEDDING if you haven’t memorized every word on my sacred paper?’ This is an intense book.

The preface has a section titled ‘Operating instructions: How to use this book’. Well, in my humble opinion as a bookseller of many years that now works at a publishing house, I would read it. That pretty much sums it up. Read the book.

Then the chapters start coming. And coming. And there are 19 chapters. 19 chapters!!! What can you possibly discuss about a wedding for 19 chapters?

Chapter one – A month-by-month checklist.
Chapter two starts at page 9. This means that there are 8 pages of checklists in the first chapter. Terrifying!! The first checklist (13 points long) is to be completed 12+ months before. Ummmmmmmmm I didn’t realise that before I knew I was going to get married I should have already bought this book and completed such tasks as ‘Hire a wedding consultant’. Rats.

Chapter 2 – Getting started.
Yaaaaaaaaay a chapter to put me back on my feet! With joy I open to lovely page 9, with it’s exciting promises of….. another checklist. A quick flick through the book reveals that there is a checklist on every second page. Roughly every 5 pages there are photos of happy couples smiling like they want to burst their teeth straight out of their head.

I need to refresh my Gin before continuing on.

In my wedding ‘schedule’ I’ve already ‘gotten started’ (the wedding is 6 months away and I’m too terrified to read this bit and find out what I should have done) so therefore we can quickly progress to

Chapter 3 – Attendants, Family and guests.
What follows boggles the mind in its complexity. There is a half a page ‘cheat sheet’ (hint – it’s really a checklist) for every major wedding participant. These sheets cover ‘Pre wedding, at ceremony, at reception and post wedding’. According to my mothers cheat sheet post wedding she ‘may host a post wedding brunch’. I have a feeling that when the fiasco (hint – wedding) is over my mother may spurn hosting a brunch in favor of a stiff drink.

Chapter 4 – Ceremony
Ours is going to go for about 10 minutes, I doubt I need to ponder upon it for 10 pages

Chapter 5 – Reception site
It’s a community hall and the reception manager is a sweet old biddy that calls me love. I don’t know how relevant it will be to unleash questions upon her like ‘Are there bathrooms? Will there be attendants? Do I need to tip them?

Chapter 6 – The Dress.
This chapter starts out with ‘The Bride’s Look Worksheet’. I am way too scared to read anymore.

Chapter 7 – Food and Drink.
Interesting…. my dad will be cooking curry for everyone. This makes him the caterer. I was meant to complete a ‘Wedding food worksheet’ to ‘best describe my image of my wedding meal’. What I actually did was say to dad that if he was offering to cook he could do what he wanted. There is no box to tick for this. I am also meant to ask him if he is working any other weddings on the same weekend, day or time? I certainly hope not, that would be awkward.

Chapter 8 – Gift registry
Suddenly something about this section catches my eye. There is a sub section titled ‘Ask Carley: Gift ettiquette’. This bloody Carley is in every chapter spouting out her advice to neurotic brides. Carley wants to reassure me that it’s traditional in some cultures to receive cash gifts, and if you aren’t from one of these cultures remind your parents and close friends to tell everyone you want money. That sounds swell, thanks Carley!

Then the book really starts to drag with whole chapters dedicated to bridesmaid’s dresses (no one is supposed to be looking at them! Right Carley?!), music, photographer, videographer, yawn yawn yawn. A whole chapter on the cake – my dad will be making that so now there’s two chapters of checklists for me to interrogate him with. Chapter 15 is invitations. Does that strike you as odd? Am I meant to be 15 chapters into planning before I even get the invites out? The cake chapter is next and I’m sure that stuff goes on between the invitations and cutting the cake…….

The grand finale is

Chapter 19- Big-Day details.
I really hate calling it ‘the big day’. I am exhausted pretty easily, and to me work and then dinner out is a ‘big day’. Let’s just call it a day and we’ll deal with the big when and if it comes to it. In the ‘Last minute tips’ section the book reveals ‘Don’t be a perfectionist, things are bound to go wrong – what you can control is how much you let it bother you’. Let me tell you wedding book of nightmares, if I followed this book religiously, and completed every single god damned checklist and laminated every freaking cheat sheet before handing them out, if I went to all of the measures you outline and something still went wrong? I WOULD BE ONE BOTHERED FUCKING BRIDE!!!

And so, dear reader, I am going to give this book to Vinnies. Let some other poor bride be suckered into purchasing it for charity. I had a friend elope and get married by Elvis in America. Do you think she had a book full of checklists like this? No freaking way. Was it a fantastic and beautiful event for her? You bet your boots. Checklists be gone, Elvis come hither. I’m all shook up and I need another gin.

Note – OK so I do have to put in this disclaimer, I do have some excel wedding spread sheets. But they are not checklists! Not all of them are anyway……

The time of you life

An idea that keeps cropping up when Chris or I talk to married people about being engaged is that this will be the best year of our relationship, or even the best year of our lives. I guess those we talk to have memories laced with images of romance, parties, presents and (oh joy of joys) shopping. I would be lying if I said that I didn't hope to gain these fond recollections on my path to wedded bliss, but I also feel pressure in this statement. What exactly does a 'best' year mean? If this year doesn't pass in a blur of happiness and confetti is our coupledom doomed to fail?

For a few months whenever Chris and I had a petty fight, or even when we just didn't have anything to say to each other there would be a little voice (I imagine it came from a Jimminy Cricket type figure in white merangue dress and a hint of psycho in it's eyes) reminding me that this is meant to be THE BEST time for us and that BEST couples don't fight about stupid things like who drank the Sprite I was saving for dinner. Or if Chris or I were in a bad mood and sulking,again a little mean voice would be asking me 'why are you ruining THE TIME OF YOUR LIVES????'.

Well, psycho bride cricket life does not follow a rosy petal strewn path and some days or even some months are going to be shit. Terrible things happen and you just have to gird your loins (I absolutely love that saying and all the visuals it conjures) and face what comes. Being in a couple means that we try to do this together and to help each other, but learning how to help each other also means being told (or being the teller) to piss off every now and then. This is something that will never ever ever change no matter how many doves or sparkly love hearts or pink tiered cakes you throw at it.

The past couple of months have been very difficult for Chris and I know we will remember this period of time with sadness. That doesn't mean that there hasn't been elements of 'best' for us as well. Sometimes sitting on our couch watching tv we can create an island of total happiness and escape almost everything terrible. When we can't run away and must submit to the badness I get to see Chris grow and strengthen, and this shows me what a best he is. I think people often forget that through every year (married or not) we discover bests in both of us that are only revealed in the midst of the worst. So while we are engaged, when things go wrong (things such a selfish people drinking precious dinner sprite), it doesn't mean failure. It means that this is life, and life is beautiful.

Bridezilla emerges

Have you ever watched the tv show ‘Bridezillas'? I absolutely love it. Seemingly ‘normal’ American women (OK so maybe you can see the potential crazy to begin with but I’m not about to call the kettle black) are documented in the weeks leading up to their wedding. They start getting snappy with their husbands, grumpy with the bridesmaids and the show begins to add snippets of obsessive behaviour (one woman had a whole room that she had been storing ‘wedding tidbits’ in for years, like hoarders goes bridal). As the wedding day marches closer the brides get wilder, breaking off the engagement, pulling their sister’s hair and crying over flower displays. I go nuts when I watch it, shouting at whoever’s in the room (or my toy dog Eddie) ‘Don’t go to the bathroom now! She’s about to punch the priest!!’ It’s not a pretty sight.

Then, the other day, I created a spreadsheet.

It seemed like such a logical thing to do. I had to work out some rough timeframes and this way everything would be clearly set out. It took me a couple of hours but it was pretty fun and I thought it came across as relaxed. Most of the events don’t have exact dates, just a designated month. In May and December there’s actually nothing that needs doing. I sent it to all the people involved and asked if there was anything missing. By email, phone calls and face to face viewings, suddenly I got to see it though other people’s eyes. I showed a colleague at work and her paused look was one of awe and fear. ‘So organized’ was a term a lot of people used in the ‘not quite OCD but getting neatly closer’ way. I felt calmed by the fact my dad thought it was totally normal, but then I started thinking about how ‘organized’ he is. The alphabetized CD collection, the total control over family gatherings, his kitchen with it’s carefully designed place for everything. I started getting scared.

Suddenly I’m second guessing everything I do trying to work out if this is ‘Bridezilla’ behaviour. Should I mention this new thing about the wedding to my friend? Does my friend actually want to hear about the wedding at all? Did this friend specifically tell another friend that she hoped I wouldn’t talk to her about the wedding tonight? Damn it she’s not even my friend at all with comments like that!

Meanwhile, a few other people I know have gotten engaged and I’m desperately curious about what they are going through. I want them to be more obsessive than me, moving faster towards that crazy screaming American brides. But none of them are even close. One doesn’t even have a date set for ‘the big day’ other than November and another has decided to just have a small dinner party. Everywhere I turn there are rational, calm Brides who are not boring people with to much information or getting obsessive about what kinds of jars to use for the wedding snow domes.

Brides who are not sitting home on a Saturday night blogging about their wedding.

However, I do also think about how much I love my spreadsheet. It’s so neat and clear and easily updated, I even printed one out and put it on the wall because I’m so proud. I love my in depth crockery candle discussions with my aunt and I love tea cup sourcing brainstorms with my friends. If I wasn’t planning things now, and tried to be someone I’m not, I would probably end up having nightmares about white doves pecking out my eyes or secretly carve ‘I do’ into my leg. I’m a naturally organised person and to pretend I am anything else would be a shame. It would also probably send me hurtling into the same stratosphere as those crazy brides I love to watch. Really everyone has an inner bridezilla and as long as you stay true to yours it will remain tame. Like a fluffy little cute dinosaur baby (Or that’s how I’m imagining mine anyway). Treat it bad and deny its existence and it will shoot up big and tall for everyone to see, burning all of the things you love to cinders. And most importantly of all, it will make some great reality tv viewing. Not that that’s a good thing. I’m just saying.

I love that show.