I’m not the only altar-bound woman at my place of business. Which is great, because if there’s anything in this world I don’t like, it’s too much attention. Besides, this chick’s wedding is a helluva lot more interesting than mine anyway (country wedding! Cowboy boots under the wedding dress! Leather & lace! I can’t wait!), so I’m flying super low under the radar at work. Yessss.
As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I’m currently occupying nearly every hour of available free time in my life with wedding appointments. I have 5 appointments this week, each taking about 2 hours. So yeah, 10 hours of my time this week will be spent on the Wedding That’s Eating My Life. 10 hours is practically a job. Uh, or at least, that’s the amount of hours I used to get at Starbucks (“we guarantee 4 hours on your schedule, but if you want enough money to live on, it’s up to you to pick up open-then-close-then-open shifts that directly violate our employment policy. Smootches, sucker!” Srsly, do not get me started on working at Starbucks.) No working out for me, no leisurely walks with the dog, no time to prepare nice dinners, no showering (seriously, you don’t want to know). I’m really starting to wonder if it’s all worth it. I love Mr. Panda, he’s my best friend, and he makes me so happy. I just want to be married to him. That’s all I want, and yet here I am, sinking the GNP of a small country into this pretentious fucking party.
Don’t mind me, I have good days where I’m soooo excited about my pretty dress, the thought of my man in a hot-ass suit, and the fact that I’ll be seeing all my relatives and old friends that I miss so much. But I also have bad days, too. This would be one of those. Anyway, back to the point of this post, the other bride at my office. Let’s call her “Fancy” (for no other reason then the fact that that Reba song is the hottest shit ever). Lately, I’ve been all “woe is me” about all the work I have to do for my wedding. Fancy’s wedding is in, like, 2 weeks and just the other day there was an exchange between Fancy and her mom (who also works here) that made me realize how good I’ve really got it:
Mom: (asks Fancy to do some wedding appointment shit on a certain day)
(*stressed words hers, italics mine, natch*) Fancy: “Mom, I can’t do it that day, I have to breed my mule.”
So, there you have it. As David Allen Coe would say, “If that ain’t country, I’ll kiss your ass!”
But really, what could possibly be so difficult about auditioning photographers, when compared to getting a couple of 1000-pound wild animals to eff each other? I can’t even keep a plant alive, and here Fancy is with her own private equine Heidi Fleiss operation going on. I love it.
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The Not: a Wedding Blog From a Cussin', Fussin' Matrimonial Malcontent 
Aaaaaa, I just remembered you telling the story about how the girl you worked with would be late because her mule fell over….that memory just totally made my day.
I know! I’m all like, “Here’s you one chance, Fancy, don’t let the mule fall down!”
My family raised horses (a lot like mules) and what exactly did Fancy think her part in the process was? I know, I know…but I had to ask.
I think Fancy just had to bring her mule to a rather far away place to meet with his/her “date.”
ahhhhh yes, the mind boggling time suck that is preparing for your own wedding. at least you actually get to see all the shit you’re paying for before you get locked in to it – since we decided to do a destination wedding all of my wedding prep was based on massive amounts of cell phone time, frantic e-mails and repeated demands for “clearer pictures”. in the end the location, food, photographer, cake all worked out fine – but i really have my coordinator to thank for a lot of that. the one thing that i wasn’t thrilled about were my flowers, since at the very last fucking minute MIL #1 up and left me hanging with no floral whatsoever after promising me over and over that she would personally arrange all my flowers exactly how i wanted them. and what else, there was something else that wasn’t how i wanted it on my wedding day what was it let’s see oh yeah – my dress.
Kadinsky- I NEED to know about your dress. The dress is my favorite part. I want pictures, dude.
My BFF almost married a redneck (homeboy had an actual mullet) about 10 years ago. He wanted to get wedding invitations with lassos on them. He also wanted to wear a bolo tie with his suit. She’s thankful to this day that relationship didn’t work out.
Just for the record…Fancy is one the of the best songs EVER!!
I want you to know that I shed a tear laughing at this, and making circular hand motions over the laptop screen, squealing “Somewhere this is really real, this is what’s actually happening!”
M is all, “What in the fuck is so GD funny?!” Breed a mule. Natch.