Here’s how it all shook out. I had been in tears numerous times trying to figure out a venue. People are all “Pick a date! Pick a date!” And I’m all “Shut the yap! Shut the yap!” See, people don’t just PICK A DATE and then la la la everything works out. No. You have to find a PLACE that can hold the right amount of people with the right food and the right site and the right ambiance with the right amount of parking and hotel accommodations and will not bankrupt you so hard that your unborn kids‘ credit scores are affected…and then you have to HOPE that they have a weekend available.
Then, if you’re getting married in a church (which I totally am because Jesus is my Homeboy…ha!) you have to HOPE…no, now you have to PRAY…that the church is available on the same date that the perfect venue is available.
When and if these stars align, that is your date. That date, whatever it is, is your date. You might not have chosen it, but it’s yours forever.
Okay, so I’ve been in this little battle with everyone around me. I have elaborate spreadsheets with 30 rows of the venues I’ve toured/contacted/emailed as well as 11 columns dedicated to various pros and cons. I was generating all this information in the hopes of finding the perfect site. Meanwhile, everyone in my family and Geo had already kind of picked a spot. I only figured it out myself this weekend.
I was all “Hey! What about Hazeltine? That would be amaze balls!” And Geo was all “Yeah, that’s been my favorite all along. It’s the best, and the most logical place.” And I was all “Exsqueeze me? Why didn’t you tell ME that?” And he said:
“Pharon, you don’t do well with other people’s logical suggestions. We have to wait for you to get there yourself.”
Oh ma gah…rude. And so so so so so true.
Okay, so then I spent a good 45 minutes drawing up a pretty elaborate PowerPoint presentation (complete with color bursts, logo placement, voice balloons and bullets - OMG, how uptight am I!?) explaining my decision so that I could present it to my parents. They have the final say, after all and I really wanted to sell it. Geo and I went to my parents’ house tonight and presented the big plan. The venue: On hold. The church: On hold. The fire-juggling mimes: On hold. My parents: ALL IN.
They loved the plan, I loved the plan, Geo loved the plan. It was finally time for me to pat myself on the back and archive the spreadsheet and PowerPoint. I called my sister Padrin, who is my Maid of Honor, to tell her the great news.
I was all “Padrin! FINALLY! Picked a spot and a date!” She said “AWESOME! When is it?” And I said “July 27.” And she said “OMG, Pharon! No! We have that festival! It’s the last weekend of every July and Rachel [my niece] isn‘t allowed to miss it!”
I love my sister and my niece too much to have this kind of fun without them. So I was crushed. I realized too late that this is the kind of information I should have ASKED about before booking an entire wedding myself, willy nilly-style. I guess I had assumed everyone was just going to block of June-December of next year until I picked my day.
Great. Not only am I uptight and refuse to accept other people’s logic, but now I’m already a Bridezilla. Superb.