Five Stages of Wedding Planning

T minus 2 months until D-Day. 

D(omestic Partnership)-Day, that is. 

(And I fully understand that I'm mixing wars with that gif. And I fully don't care.)

Wedding planning has sent me over the edge, guys. 

You know when you see something super odd or tacky at a wedding, 
and you immediately judge the bride for that decision she made while not at all under immense stress?

Be gentle, friends. Bridal brain is the new baby brain.

I recently started wholeheartedly planning a "The Wedding Singer"-themed rehearsal dinner.

In my head, it would be hilarious and casual and fun. And maybe it could be.

But it would also be confusing and gauche and odd. So I stopped.

(Reality: I only stopped when I realized Billy Idol probably wouldn't be able to attend.)

I had my first real wedding nightmare the other night: 
It was time for the first dance, and I looked at Tyler and said, "We never took dance lessons!" 
In response, he swung me onto the dance floor and we did a perfect, awful rendition of the Charlie Brown dance:

And now I can't stop thinking about me in my wedding dress flinging my head from side to side 
and prancing like a crazed Irish dancer who forgot what her upper body is supposed to do.
So if anyone's got an ambien prescription, I wouldn't say no.

I'm not entirely certain why I went with a war/military theme for this one.
Maybe because I feel like I've been engaging in a year long battle with literally everyone, including myself.
Or maybe because I was drafted into this whole wedding thing without any say. 
Kidding, obvi. 
This process has been super fun and I would totally do it again 
because I had to pick a single wedding vision out of so many and that's just not fair.
So Tyler, be prepared for a vow renewal every 5 years or so.

If I've done a "Five Stages of Grief" parody post already, you have my apologies.
Difficult emotions are meant to be dealt with through dark humor,  yes?

And I'm truly not trying to make a mockery of war.
It's just that...love is a battlefield.

The Five Stages of Grief Wedding Planning

1. Denial

A whole year to plan? Smooth sailing. 

Except I forgot that my level of efficiency when working solo is extremely hampered when other people are introduced into the equation. Because other people are stupid. 
(That's not to say I'm exceedingly intelligent. But the masses are just so. damn. dumb.)

Goose dies and Henry Blake dies and Bubba dies AND THERE IS NO GETTING OUT OF THIS ALIVE.

2. Anger

The combination of work, wedding planning, dealing with familial expectations (from both sides), and trying to be gracious and lighthearted and fun is just too much.

And I don't think anyone's ever described me as gracious and lighthearted and fun during normal times, let alone during this incredibly stressful period.

Tyler and I watched the latest Bill Burr special last night, and I feel he is my kindred spirit. It's more than a shared fear of the coming robot wars, though.

We both get rage-y. 

And apparently, planning the happiest day of my life makes me especially rage-y.

Everyone is stupid and slow and stupid.

Also adding to the anger:

What the actual hell are wedding dress sizes?

Take a girl, already anxious and indecisive and stressed, and tell her she's 2+ sizes bigger than she's been walking around believing.

Not to make light of the mass shooting situation, but I am honestly a lil surprised

there aren't more of those at bridal boutiques.

3. Bargaining

Now, don't get me wrong; I am a Fortunate Son.
But the wedding industry is the new military-industrial complex, and basic white girls are feeding the beast. Everything is expensive and stupid social media makes you feel like everything is necessary. And I am 100% culpable. 
Do I need outfit changes and lounge furniture and giant props?
Of course not. 
But am I feeling pressured to include all of those things, like my wedding is a Taylor Swift concert? Absolutely.
Except I'm also cheap as hell so I'm trying to wheel and deal my way through this. 

Indiana Jones totally counts as a war movie and I will stand by that statement until I die.

You know who doesn't haggle? Wedding vendors.  

Stop, children, what's that sound? 
The sound of my last two pennies forlornly clinking together. 

4. Depression

There is no end in sight. 
I foolishly believed I could front load this whole situation and float by for a few months.
See above re: everyone being stupid.
I'm not functioning on my timetable. I'm functioning on the timetable of people who think more than a week is a totally acceptable email response time. 
They are not having to find paper, sharpen a quill, refill the inkpot, wait until the next day because they ran out of daylight and the candle supply is running low, and then pay an orphan/carrier pigeon a shilling to deliver the note. 
I would be (relatively) satisfied if they simply responded with the thumbs up emoji.

This is veering into anger again, so to get back on track:
Everything has taken far longer than it should because of general incompetence. 
Man makes plans and God laughs and Mary Angela drinks. 

5. Acceptance

Two months out.
Things are mostly planned.
I've been told repeatedly that things are going to go wrong, and to just accept that.
To which I say: suck it. 

Things I've accepted:
- the unfailing disappointment of humanity;
- the limitations of my budget as compared to that of Kim & Kanye;
- the fact that I will have to continue working very hard over the next 2 months to make everything work.

Things I have not and will not accept:
- that I should just stop trying because something unknown is going to go wrong.

That is the defeatist, bitter attitude of people who failed to properly plan.
THIS WEDDING WILL. NOT. DEFEAT ME. 

Bonus: 
Running relentless as the River Kwai throughout the entire process is my personal favorite: anxiety. 
Personality-wise, I'm a fun combination of Type A and indecisive.
So I've been attempting to make decisions quickly and efficiently, and then questioning every decision I've made.

Pray for me.