Thoughts
(aka Jitters!)

8/23/98

19 days!

Hectic. That's how life is at this point.

My metaphor (and mantra) as of late is this; planning a wedding is like a roller coaster. Once you receive your ticket to go on the ride, excitement and adrenaline starts pumping in your veins. You sit down in your seat and buckle up because you just know it's going to be a wild ride. The ride begins and there are some bumps and sharp turns that you encounter, but you still laugh all the way. Then you begin the very, very s l o w ascent up, up, up. The coaster starts creaking, your heart is pumping a hundred miles an hour with the excitement and apprehension of knowing that very soon you'll be plummeting down towards the earth at breathtaking speeds. The ascent feels like slow motion and if you dare to look down to the ground, you can barely make out the ant-like people looking up at you in wonder, fear and respect. The coaster groans with the effort of carrying its precious cargo to the tip-top of the ride and you take a look over the peak - and see absolutely nothing but sky. Eeeiii! Oh the unexpected! Time stops for that brief second where you teeter between ascent and descent then suddenly.... WHOOOOOSH! Down, down you go, holding on for dear life as your screams are stolen away by the wind. Everything goes by in a dizzying flash of speed and as you finally get to the bottom of the hill your eyes tear (and you discreetly check if you wet your pants) and thank God you made it.

Just as you collect your breath you realize that the "wedding" hill wasn't so big after all (though you had a great time on it), as you're suddenly plummeted into the backwards, spiraling, upside-down loop-de-loop of love and lifelong commitment!

By the way, did I mention I was scared of heights? ;-)

8/11/98

One month.

Only one month until we're married. What an overwhelming thought! I keep saying to Kevin, "We're getting married!" as if to convince both myself and him that it's actually going to happen. And I didn't think it would, well, at least for a few more years. I had always envisioned myself getting married in my early thirties, not twenty-four. But, if you have a good thing, you hang on to it as some cheesy cliché says. It's odd to think of myself as being married. Being a Mrs., a wife, having a husband, having in-laws. Sometimes I hold the knowledge of my impending marriage in my heart like a secret, while other times it explodes in my head like a time bomb off its last tick.

One thing that bothers me is the whole "blushing bride" generalization. As if a bride is required by state and federal laws to be a giddy, hyper, over-excited, babbling, blushing fool who can't think of anything else. Hey...we brides have enough to stress about other than living up to this image. Just because I answer like a regular human being when asked if I'm excited and don't turn somersaults that would make Ringling Bros. jealous doesn't mean A.) I'm not excited, B.) I don't love my fiancé, C.) I don't want to get married. Someone should remind these nay-sayers that there's a thing called individual self-expression. Sheesh. (I had to get that off my chest.)

In actuality, I'm very excited, more so than I expected. I had thought that I would be very easy going and passive when it came to picking out a dress, invitations and the difference between Fettuccini Alfredo and Farfalle à la Vodka. But the reality of it is that I do care a lot, proven by the examples of hours pouring over menus, finding the "perfect" wording for an invitation. I suppose it's because the wedding day is supposed to be the summation of you and your honey's relationship together and everything should be perfect. Which, of course, I hope it is. But it won't be.

Perfection would ruin the wedding. It's the quirks; the accidents and the funny things that happen that make the wedding memorable. The fact that my bridesmaids picked out silver platform heels (a la Spice Girls) should be memorable enough - and of course the $10,000 I'll win from America's Funniest Home Videos for sending in my tape of them catching the heel on their hem, falling, tripping, or any other klutzy maneuver I'm sure one of them will pull off.

Am I ready?

No, I suppose I'm not. But I don't think I'll ever be ready. And hey - is anyone really ready when they fall in love?