I was a relaxed sort of person, until I said “Yes”.
I’m a pretty chillaxed kinda person. I use sarcasm a lot (by a lot I mean it’s my first language and English is my second) and I don’t take myself too seriously.
At least, I was all these things until one small part of my life changed.
I got engaged. Engaged.
I am betrothed. I shall be saying “I do”. I will be professing my love publicly to the man I adore (he’s kinda cool so I have no problem with that).
I never expected it to happen this way.
You see, we – being my fiancé and I (hehe that’s the first I’ve said that, so cool) – kinda went the non-traditional route.
Together,we already have kids (two, they are awesome and hilarious, we love them), dogs (two, they are annoying and shed hair everywhere but despite what I say I do love them too), cars (two, they are expensive but I love them also) and a house (just one, we’re not that rich…and now I have a wedding to pay for it won’t be two for a long time yet).
We’ve done it all. EXCEPT the wedding part.
And I always thought I’d be pretty chill and we’d have a low key affair. We’d say our personal vows and wham bam thank you ma’am we would be done. Back to life as we know it. Soccer mum duties here I come.
But let me tell you something, the mere act of getting engaged turns you loopy. It makes you insane and quite frankly turns one into a CRAZY PERSON.
Yes, I admit it. The wedding industry and the sparkly diamond on my pretty little finger have made me cray cray (and borderline bridezilla but shhh on that one).
What is happening to me?
I have googled every little wedding thing I could think of. My browser history is gigantic lists of any vintage-rustic-shabby-chic-boho-beachy wedding related items I can find.
PinterestI even found a site in the US that will hand-make my monogrammed-themed-personalised-favours. Two months ago I didn’t know even what a favour was!
WHO. EVEN. AM. I??????
My mum is probably the most shocked. Her nickname for me is "Last minute Lisa" - I am THE world's best procrastinator.
But guess who has already booked a date, a reception venue, a ceremony venue, a celebrant and a stylist.
What the hell? Why do I have a wedding stylist? When did I turn into Kim Kardashian?
I decided I had to verge away from handmade goods (what am I anyway? A 10-year-old in art class?) so I waved goodbye to Pinterest and Etsy (for like a whole hour...) and I went to Facebook.
Ahhh Facebook. The place where cray cray brides-to-be can meet other cray cray brides-to-be. It's like an online meeting place for oestrogen-fused wedding crazy people.
Then I found posts that went like this:
"What colour should I wear my hair for the wedding" proceeded by 10 photos of a women dating back to what can only be assumed to be the 80s.
I may be a little nuts with this ring now but even I think it's insane to ask a bunch of fellow mentally-unstable (let's face it, this phenomenon is like a drug, people) women what hair colour suits you best.
I mean, they can choose the man they want to marry but they can't pick their own hair colour?
And I thought I had problems. (But if you’re asking NO you should not be blonde with crimped hair. In that picture you are 12 – get over it).
Oh and engagement parties. What is with those? It's party to celebrate an upcoming party.
Lisa before getting engaged "why bother?"
Lisa after getting engaged "hell yeah I'll get on that stupid tradition. I'll even Photoshop my own invites so I can tell everyone I did them myself."
I could go on for days about favours and centrepieces and colour schemes but I’m bidding on a personalised rustic bunting, checking out overpriced photographers and gorgeous designer gowns. (Anna Campbell if you’re reading I love you… just putting that out there.)
Did you turn into a crazy person when you got engaged?
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