65 Days and Counting

So Paul proposed on Christmas which means, if you do the math right, we'll be getting married in less than six months from start to finish. Of course the first question after anyone finds out you are engaged is, "So when's the wedding?" to which we reply with, "June 14th." That generally then receives the second question of, "2009?" or "Next year?" For some reason people are shocked to find out that we are in fact getting married this year. They look at us like we're ridiculous.

Now, I've heard of girls that literally go crazy while planning a wedding and consequently carry everyone else around them to the same mental state. I'd like to think that I have yet to venture anywhere close to this and have maintained a level head. I may just be in denial, but I'd have to attribute this stability to the fact that Paul and I have tried our very best to keep things as relatively simple as possible. The funny thing about that is simple weddings don't really exist. It's a lie. Trust me. We tried. We tried hard.

So, we've managed (with invaluable help of course) to plan a wedding in less than six months proving that it is in fact possible to do so and leave within safe mental state boundaries. We've checked off all the big things and are working through the details which basically means if we got married tomorrow things would be a-okay. There might not be centerpieces but hey, there would be people and rings and vows and cake. What more do you need? Now is just a waiting period.

I tried to describe this waiting period to my roommate. I explained it as wanting a pony for Christmas and being told in summer that you would in fact be getting a pony for Christmas but that you'd just have to wait. By Halloween you're all ready. You've set up a place for it, you've got food for it, you know how to take care of it, and you have taken precautions in case something goes wrong. The thing is you're just waiting. This is us. We're just waiting for time to move faster. Everything is set to go except there are 65 days in the way. I couldn't imagine if there were 430 days. I may have found the culprit behind these crazy brides. Too much time to think.

Anyway, my analogy apparently didn't work so well. All I got from my roommate was, "Are you comparing your wedding to a pony?" Maybe I should have used wanting a puppy instead.

-Alyssa