OK, so my pal in bloggydom, Bewildered Housewife, tagged me for a meme. I think all I have to do is post about 6 quirks that I have that are personal to me. Um, I’d love to do that and all, but I really should keep this blog about my wedding. So, prepare to look behind the curtain into the 6 as-yet-unknown quirks about my wedding!
But you know, a lot of the non-traditional aspects of my wedding have already been revealed here. There’s not much more to tell, except maybe that I’m effing tired of planning this thing. Srsly. It feels like I’m single-handedly running a little town. If that town were a real place, I’d call it “Shittsburgh.” Not because planning a wedding is really that shitty (um, but it kind of is), but because I love how Sienna Miller famously insulted the city of Pittsburgh by labeling it thusly.
It was such a career-suicide move, but GOD was that some delicious faux pas. Sometimes when the beautiful people fuck up, it’s just dreadful and infuriating (Tom Cruise and every TV appearance he’s done in the last 3 years). But other times, it’s really humanizing. “Shittsburgh” is funny in the way that one of my friends could have said something like that to a PA resident by accident and caught the same case of foot-in-mouth disease. I love it. I’d totally have a beer with Sienna Miller. Anyway, onward:
1. We’re not having an open bar. Ooooooh, scary faux-pas that could easily slippery slope into the BIGGEST wedding flub of all: the cash bar! But, we’re not going there. What we’re actually doing is a bar of red wine, white wine, champagne and beer. The last three weddings I went to did this and nobody missed the hard liquor. Besides, if the good Lord intended for every event to include free flowing booze, then the good Lord would not have invented the hip flask, now would he?
2. My mom is paying for all the alcohol. I think she volunteered herself to take on this expense without knowing how much mine and Mr. Panda’s friends drink. Anyway, here’s to not being afraid to be service-y: GO MOM!
3. I don’t really have “wedding colors.” That thudding sound you hear? That is the sound of traditional brides everywhere fainting in front of their computers. Srsly, the more I talk to people about this wedding stuff, the more I realize that the concept of “colors” is a really hard one to get around. Like, people ask me what my “colors” are, and I just kinda mumble something that sounds like is may have come out of the Pantone library. “My colors? Oh, well, my colors are Cadmium *grumble*een and sort of a buttery *cough*rillion.”
I think the trouble originated from the one time I was ever drafted into flower girl duty: The year was 1987, the Year of Plentiful Taffeta. Gunne Sax, baby’s breath and chardonnay were still in vogue. My aunt was marrying into an Italian family. The best way to describe it in the fewest words possible: Married to the Mauve. Oh yes. An all-mauve wedding. The color of period-stained underpants as far as the eye can see! To this day, I still can’t go into a Sally Beauty Supply. It’s the uniforms. They trigger me.
4. In keeping with the above idea: My bridesmaids are not all wearing the same dress. Clutch the pearls, traditional brides! But really, if I don’t have any “colors”, how can I choose a color for my girls? And NO, I won’t do black or white or ivory. Black just seems so somber for a wedding, unless it’s one of those uptown, loft-y, “city chic” weddings, then go for it. But, that is not my wedding style, so it just seems off. My idea was for the bridesmaids to kind of jive with the surroundings of the location- which is a gorgeous Chinese garden, so I chose all different colors for them. A post on that later.
5. So far, we only have one groomsman. Mr. Panda will not get off his ass and ask anyone else to be in our wedding. But I really don’t care. You hear me, Miss Wediquette? I don’t care if the number of groomsmen matches the number of bridesmaids. I don’t care about perfect ceremony symmetry! Put that in your garter and… do whatever it is people do with garters.
6. Oh yes, there will be streaking. See, my brother-in-law (BIL) is a very silly dude. He’s a lot of fun. One night, we were sitting around drinking, and, as is the beginning to some of the most epic stories ever experienced by mankind, BIL says, “Hey, you know what would be really funny..” Yeah. BIL got the crazy idea in his head to streak across my reception in a panda suit. He wants it to be all low-key like. You know, he’ll wait until the reception is fully underway, and everyone’s had time to soak in some alcoholic libations- he’ll be sipping on some wine, casually enjoying the evening. Then slip away without anybody noticing, pull a Superman quick change into a panda suit (at the time, he was thinking I could make him one. And, at the time, we had time for that. Not so much right now) and then emerge and make a fast and befuddling impression on my party. But, as suddenly as he appeared, he’ll vanish into the night- like Batman or a Stevie Nicks impersonator or something. Anyway, I think he was being purely hypothetical when he mentioned panda-streaking my wedding. Because he doesn’t know that I know how to get ahold of an adult size panda suit rather easily…. Stay tuned!
Oh, and I have to tag more blogs for this meme. I choose YOU, Pikachu: