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. 

2018: My Year in [Trump] Gifs

2018 was the year I finally got my life together (she said for the 5th year in a row). 

But I mean it this time. Mostly because there really isn't any other option.

This year, I dedicate my end-of-year gif journey to our lord and savior, Donald Trump. 

January

I have almost no memory of January, aside from spending New Years in Dallas with some of my favorite people.
Most of the month has been memory-holed because my job was the worst and I cried a lot. 🤷‍♀️

February

February got real. I quit another job, guys!
At this point, if anyone needs advice on quitting...please don't come to me because I'm still terrified of confrontation and this last experience was a whole different kind of mess.
I submitted my resignation letter fully expecting them to do the normal thing and not make me finish out the notice period. Joke was on me, though, because not only did they expect me to keep working, they also wanted me to represent the boss's wife in traffic court.
Y'all, I won't represent myself in traffic court. My legal* advice: own up to being a bad driver, pay the damn fine and move on.
Fortunately, I immediately got a terrible case of the flu and told them that I wouldn't be able to come in for about...two weeks. Wiggled myself out of that one, right?
NOPE. Lawyers are the worst and there is no leaving on your own terms. This law firm was Hotel California.
In a wholly unsurprising move, they immediately threatened legal action against me.

It took a full week of insincere apologies (combined with refusals to back down), explanations of Texas employment law (lawyers love when you explain the law to them), and even texting a picture of my thermometer before they stopped emailing me.

I started a new job as soon as I escaped from the grips of fever, and haven't looked back since.

*By "legal" I mean "completely casual, not at all legal." I am not your lawyer. You are not paying me. You're an adult and traffic court is dumb; make your own decisions.

March-April

A blur. At this point, Tyler was still in school and I was working nonstop.
I'm fairly certain March and April just didn't happen.

May

Tyler graduated! I took an elbow to the head at a Papa Roach concert! Tyler started bar prep.
May was a rollercoaster.

June

In this hottest of times in the hottest of swamps, THE A/C IN MY CAR STOPPED WORKING.
This was a month of thirst.
So I parked her in the Third Ward and set her on fire.
Except in reality, I parked her in my garage and went to Louisiana with my parents for a bit.
(If you've ever considered going to Walker Percy Weekend in St. Francisville, do it! Bourbon for dayz.)

July

Tyler took the bar exam and I experienced a tremendous amount of PTSD.
We both need(ed) emotional therapy dogs.

August-September

Is this how life works? Months just disappear because nothing of note happened?
Do I have a Swiss cheese brain?
Or did I accidentally eat too many Tide pods?
(Remember that that was a thing?? 2018 was a wild ride.)

October

Tyler got a (very impressive and will keep me in the lifestyle to which I've become accustomed) job! And passed the bar!
We fancy dined! We drank! We treated ourselves!
And then we took a three day nap that was two years overdue.

November

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

I am proud to announce my latest collection entitled "Ring in Front of Christmas Decorations."
(But really, girlfriend looks good in red, am I right?)

December

Engaged, the perfect job, and (mom's old) Lexus? I AM THRIVING.

A few questions I've asked in the 4+ weeks since getting engaged:
Are live peacocks too extra?
Where did Kanye get that giant flower wall?
How long was Priyanka's train and, hypothetically and totally unrelated, how long is the aisle at the cathedral?
I wonder what Donald and Melania are doing next fall?

Gird your loins, people.

A certain grumpy, no fun fiance who shall remain nameless has banned the words "bling" and "glitter" from our wedding lexicon, but luckily ya girl is an actual walking thesaurus so there will be plenty of *ahem* sparkle. (Suck it, Tyler.)

Wedding Motto: WWM(elania/Mariah)D?

We have a date, a church, and a reception venue. I'm basically done, right?
I've gone full-on Type A on this wedding planning and partially created at least 4 wedding websites because I am an actually insane person.
(In my defense, while there is [a lot of] overlap, each website offers different features and designs
AND THIS IS MY WEDDING SO BACK THE HELL UP IF YOU WANT AN INVITE.)

Honorary December gif:

100 pounds, Your Majesty. IT'S WEDDING SEASON. 

Happy New Year!