I sincerely hope after reading that title that you have the incredible, fist-pumping Europe song in your heard too now. Come on, you know you want to sing along. Just do it. It feels so good.
All ’80s tunes aside, I seriously cannot believe we’re getting down to the wire, to the final weeks – weeks – I can think about our wedding in weeks now; how crazy is that?!
The bouquets have been crocheted, the dress and suit purchased, the playlists made, the menu finalized(ish). The puzzle of our wedding is nearly finished; the big pieces, the little pieces and even the awkward pieces that never seem to want to fit just right are doing just that.
These final weeks we’re finding ourselves doing things like planning our cargo load – exactly how many box-loads o’ wedding stuff – we will need to take with us to the Carolinas, and finalizing the details of the days leading up to the Big Day.
We sent out RSVPs a few weeks ago, and it’s been the best thing ever getting new ones in the mail each week. I’m thinking about mailing out self-addressed, stamped envelopes to my friends every so often just so I can guarantee all this fun mail all over again.
I’m getting married six months from today. In 183 days. (Don’t worry, I only know that because of our knot.com site. I’m not actually keeping a count. …Yet.) Picture me squealing with excitement. ‘Cause that’s what I’m doing right now.
I always knew I wouldn’t want a super long engagement. Likewise I always knew that would mean working overtime to get things accomplished in that shorter time frame. But I’m ok with that. Because the alternative – a prolonged engagement – would stress me out even more, if that’s at all possible. Let me attempt to explain. I’m slightly crazy, and a large chunk of my zaniness (Doesn’t zany just sound cuter? I like to imagine that my crazy is kind of cute – like an adorable, endearing little trait. Others might disagree.) is my proclivity to stress.
We’re not just talking slight anxiousness. We’re talking full-blown, all-consuming, thought-dominating, sometimes-physically-manifesting stress. I’m the person who assumes something terrible has happened to you if you don’t answer your cell phone right away, the person who believes in her gut the laws of nature are skewed to inevitably bring doom and gloom and the person who believes failure is more of a guarantee than success. Just call me Miss Skeptismo. (I’ll be selling “The World is Ending Tomorrow” shirts at a great wedding-special price, if anyone is interested.) Anyway, all that is to explain that the longer the engagement, the longer I would get to stress. And show everybody my full-blown crazy. And, by proxy, make everybody else crazy – not exactly pleasant thoughts. Hence, the desire for a shorter engagement.
Still, it’s wild to think we’re already two months into this whole engagement business and we only have six short little months to go. Six months to figure out the reception menu, to put together a playlist of jammin’ tunes to which to dance the night away, to figure out ceremony music, to figure out the ceremony period, to decide on decorations and those pesky flowers. And wedding bands. And engagement photos. And hair and makeup. And what the heck the Mister and his guys are going to wear. Fingers are crossed it’s something that matches and does not include denim.