The next time y’all read a Hitched column, I’ll be a married person! It’s been a long, strange journey since Patrick and I got drunk at the lake last September and decided to get engaged. But there has been no stranger time than the last couple of weeks, when the Wedding Crazy moved into my brain like that stupid Mucinex chest-booger moves into gunky animated lungs.
I prided myself on not being the crazy bride — especially since I realized very early into our wedding planning that the actual process of wedding planning makes me a nervous wreck. I let Patrick take the reins and stuck with logistical issues and large concepts and buying three different pairs of wedding shoes because fuck it, if you are going to go bridezilla, at least go bridezilla with some shit you can use more than one day out of your life.
But for the last several days, I’ve had to force myself to occupy every moment of my time with some tangible project or activity, because during moments of stillness, the Wedding Crazy clinks on its hateful table lamp and is all, Oh HIIIIIIIIIIIII Andrea, did you forget to be worried about something for a second? Here, let me assist you. Of course I’m terribly excited about Saturday. I just wish it were here already so I wasn’t stuck always finding new wedding-related scabs to pick. Is the green on our wedding programs the right green!? I better check again! Or, Are we sure we put the smaller bathmat on the wedding registry? Because what if we put the big bathmat and it doesn’t fit? OH NIGHTMARE OF NIGHTMARES.
But I have been able to do a number of things to avoid stirring the Wedding Crazy from its slumber, and I hope that in sharing them with my fellow premarital Friskiers, we can all be a little less whacked out.
One of the best things I did was organize an impromptu tweet-up with some of my favorite Austin feminists — we use the hashtag #atxfem, if anyone’s in town and wants to join up — who are smart and thoughtful and completely and totally uninvested in my wedding whatsoever.
Hanging out with people who don’t care about your wedding is a wonderful thing. Maybe for you that’s parking it at the bar and shooting the shit with your favorite bartender. Or making sure not to miss your rec-league softball game. When I went and got a manicure this week, I made sure not to wear my engagement ring because holy God, I did not even want “weddings” to be anywhere near a point of conversation while the nice lady drilled away at my cuticles.
Whoever they are, people who don’t want to see 10 photos of your dress or hear about your super-clever guestbook idea may be the best kind of people to spend time with right now. I’m about to spend an entire weekend with people who love and adore me and who want the best for me and because of that, they want me to have the happiest wedding ever. Which is wonderful. But also exhausting. So it’s nice to not have to perform “bride” for a few moments.
I also stopped reading about wedding shit, which up until last week I had done voraciously. When I went to the salon to get my hair colored, I didn’t pick up any magazines. I just read my Twitter and my Facebook and chatted with the staff. I didn’t want to read about so-and-so’s wedding dress, or so-and-so’s divorce, or anyone else’s wedding-related bullshit because I have to tell you, I am full up on wedding bullshit and it is like $4 a gallon right now.
But seriously, I don’t have the time or mental energy to form new opinions about wedding anything. Well, except for the fucking bridal feeding tube, which is disgusting and horrible and if the world ends in December, you heard it here first: we were asking for it.
I’d like to say I had the presence of mind to schedule our wedding to coincide with Tax Day, but that was just lucky: when you spend your weekend crying over self-employment taxes, you kind of stop caring whether you’ll have enough iced tea for all the old-ass teetotalers at your wedding.
I recommend finding something similarly un-wedding-related to focus on, if you can — whether that’s developing some new ideas for a work project or tending your garden, it’s nice to focus on something that has zero to do with matrimony for a few minutes. Ten extra points if the thing you’re doing has larger social implications that serve to remind you that you are only a teeny-tiny bride ant, scurrying around in your teeny-tiny wedding mound, and next week your wedding mound will be a marriage mound, and all will be well. Also, work the word “mound” into your vocabulary frequently, because it’s funny.
Maybe the best moment of calm for me, however, was completely wedding-related: I put on my favorite love songs and sat down and sketched out my vows. Not only did I get some soothing moments of loved-up quietude, but I got to focus on the most importantpart of my wedding: the part where I am marrying the most wonderful-for-me man in the world.
How do I know he’s the best? Because even though I’ve really been a shit for the past couple of weeks — I’ve been testy and moody and quick to take offense at any little thing — Patrick made reservations for us at one of Austin’s best and most romantic restaurants last Friday night, and we went and had a quiet dinner, all alone. We ate well and laughed about how the expensive wine kind of smelled like Scotch tape.
Just like I hope we’re doing when we’re 60. And 70. And 80. And 90. Except then we’ll probably be laughing about how we wish we could smell anything at all, but we won’t really care because we’ll probably smell like pee. But at least we’ll smell like pee together.
Hey there, Hitched fans: We’ve all been loving Andrea Grimes’ Hitched columns since she started writing for us after getting engaged last September. We can’t be the only ones who’ve grown to love and appreciate this very candid peek into her nuptials. So we are asking Frisky readers who want to contribute a wedding gift to our favorite bride-to-be to donate to a charity of the bride’s choice. — Editors
It would be a wonderful gift to me and all Texas women if you would donate to your Planned Parenthood branch of choice in Texas. As many of you probably know, our conservative lawmakers here have done all they can to defund Planned Parenthood and the wonderful work they do serving women and men by providing cancer screenings, contraception, and safe abortion care. Anything you can give to Planned Parenthood of the Capital Region, of North Texas, of the Gulf Coast, of South Texas and of West Texas will help keep Texans healthy and in control of their reproductive choices.
Donations can be made in the name of Andrea Grimes and Patrick Michels. Thanks, all! (And don’t worry — Andrea will still be writing for us!)