Archive for April, 2009

Here we go again

Posted on April 30, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |

Ladies, I need help.  Once again I’m confronted by the need to make decisions on something for which I have no opinions (my friends would be STUNNED to hear this, I’m sure): the whole bridal party-ceremony-processional-seating-etc situation.  Please share your brilliant, creative, and fabulous plans to save a poor Cheese. Mr. Cheese will even make the pouty face for you.


We have three bridesmaids and groomsmen and a MOH/ BM… so 8 people, plus a flower girl and junior bridesmaid.  My brother and sister — one of the groomsmen and bridesmaids — will likely be our musical team.  Mr. Cheese thinks he wants the groomsmen to stand with him rather than be a part of the processional.  I want it all to be simple and easy, which doesn’t seem to be an option.

  • Can we skip the bridal party processional entirely and just have the flowergirl and jr. bridesmaid precede me?
  • Do I have to have someone with me until the moment before I glide elegantly down the aisle (riiiight) for some reason?  I assume this is for emotional support or to deal with dress issues, but I’m thinking I might want to be alone.
  • If we have a processional, I think I’d like each person to proceed, give J a hug, then go to her seat.  Since the men will be standing with him, the proper time for them to sit seems to be after the last girl finishes and the music changes, right?  Or the woman can hug J, then the groomsman can shake his hand or slap his shoulder or whatever, and they can both go to their seats then… but is that awkward?

Crap, I don’t know… which is why I’m asking you.  What are your processional plans and do you have any recommendations for me?  Smoochies!

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Everything I do…

Posted on April 30, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |

… I do it for you.

You’re welcome for getting a cheesy Bryan Adams song stuck in your head for the rest of the day.  Now we’re in the same boat.  The Cheese Boat!

So, it’s 1am and I’m sitting in a hot, musty, fluorescent-lighted man-building (you know, the kind where only men work and the smells of metal and yucky hand soap mix with sweat and grease?) on the world’s worst office chair.


Because J’s been working all night on a side gig — with proceeds going to our honeymoon — and I’m the support crew.  I’ve made two caffeine runs, picked up crappy (yummy) fast food, and smiled each time he walked by for the sake of morale.

If that’s not love….

Really, he’s worth it.  He’s working incredibly hard with a really great attitude both to further the possibility of a bigger contract and to pull in some extra cash.  I hate that he does this, that he goes from his normal job directly to this extra work without a break often until morning, that he doesn’t get the time to rest and recharge during a very stressful time.

So if sitting in this shitty chair and smiling periodically makes him feel better about working nonstop for the last 17 hours, I will do it.  Boy, laying on a beach for a week is going to be SWEET.

It seems to have fallen out of vogue to talk about standing by your man, and in an if-it-was-at-my-own-expense way, I get that.  But isn’t the point of all of this to have someone who supports you?  Even if it’s only because they have no choice? 🙂

I feel like I owe y’all some follow-up after my last post, and I will get there, but right now this girl’s gotta head home and take a shower to get the metal smell outta my hair (“I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair”… anybody? Anybody?).

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Posted on April 29, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |

As you approach your wedding day, everyone asks you if you’re getting nervous.  I wonder how they’d react if I said, “Yes, frankly, I’m scared shitless of the huge commitment I’m about to make.  Not because of him — I love him and admire him — but because it’s me, and to be the kind of partner I want to be is something I’m not sure I can achieve.  And sometimes I just don’t want to be a good partner.  I want to stomp my feet and throw a tantrum and have someone save me.”

What if I don’t succeed this time?  What if I can’t?  What if I don’t want to? Bending myself to accommodate him/  us is tiring.  Watching my words so that he doesn’t get hurt is tiring. Can I really do this?  Do I really want to?

I often feel like I’m in this all alone… and by “this” I guess I mean life.  I know that I don’t often feel relaxed or at peace or any of those other things that people seem to feel with their beloveds.  I’m not at my most comfortable with him since I’m working so hard on improving behaviors that don’t work for us.  I long to see him, to be with him, but I don’t always feel a big rush of relief when I do.  Nothing seems to come naturally.

Will I ever get “the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe/ having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words”, or have I traded that for the proud stability of personal growth?  I’m succeeding in becoming a better partner, but will I ever get there?  Is there even a “there” where I can stop having to think and just be?  I don’t really get to be 100% me, but 100% me includes selfish and stubborn and confrontational.  I guess I can be 100% me, but I don’t want to.  I want to be a better me.

I’ve been working on our ceremony, and this comes to mind:

Through the sacred vows of marriage
you are saying that who you are
and who you want to be
can best be achieved through this union.

Gulp. Sometimes I don’t know if I want to.  I can imagine having kids with him, and this life is real — very real, too real.  Before, I often longed for a different life, a fairytale life.  Now, I see what’s in front of me, clearly, but I think it’s too much.  This place is magical, but nothing about this relationship feels magical (if magical means easy).  I swallow my instincts each day, choosing what I think I’m supposed to, choosing the option that works for him, and by extension us.  When do I get to relax?  When can I feel the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe? Choosing what is best for him or us is costly.  I’m succeeding, but I’m tired.  Is this how parents feel?  It must be.

Sometimes I just want a knight.  I want to be saved.  I want to be needed and wanted and adored.  I want someone to think of me first.  I want someone else to figure things out.  I want to be cherished.  I want someone to come to my rescue.  Unfortunately, those times seem to be when my beloved wants all those things too.

I don’t want to be a grown-up anymore.  I have doubts… I always have doubts.

While you are two separate individuals,
you walk along one path together.
Your every gesture, word, expression and action,
and those you withhold or omit,
will determine the quality of your experience together.

A good marriage takes patience,
dedication, humor, and forgiveness.

You keep your love alive
through the choices you make moment by moment,
day after day, and year after year.
Through practice,
you learn how to love yourselves and each other
with devotion and freedom.

“Moment by moment, day after day, and year” after year overwhelm me, but “through practice” gives me comfort.  “You learn” tells me that I’m right and it’s not easy.  “Freedom” gives me hope.

Yes, I’m getting nervous, more and more as our big day approaches.  I can tell myself that it’s about the tent and the street and the food, but it’s not, and the closer we get the greater my doubts. That’s my way.  I finally know myself well enough to accept that this is my process.  Before a big milestone, job interview, performance, presentation, I wonder if I can do it, if I even want to anymore.  I accept it, but it still sucks.

If you have doubts, know that you’re not alone.  If you don’t, then you and I are different; I always have doubts.

(Our ceremony wording started with this great book and was reworked until I felt the style was more like ours — direct, straightforward, honest.)

No question to end this post.  I’ve promised to share my pre-wedding experience, and as much as I have qualms about putting it all out there, this is part of it.  If even one person is comforted by the thought that someone else is nervous and overwhelmed and in doubt — and still going through with it — it’s worth it.

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All by my very own self

Posted on April 28, 2009. Filed under: deciding |

Miss Crab Cake’s post got me thinking (as it did many of you) about how I want to deal with being escorted down the aisle (or in our case, “the trail”).  This is where sentimentality meets reality and I’m conflicted.

I very much wanted to walk alone, a la Mrs. Lovebug (on whom I will admit I have a huge crush).  The symbolism of my presenting myself to my beloved is clearest to me and I know he’d like to see me for the first time “on the aisle.”

But reality rears its messy, woody and unevenly graded self: the trail leading to our ceremony site plus my somewhat snug dress plus heels (stability meets fashion) make this a slightly risky plan.  I could trip, I could fall, or I could spend the whole time watching my feet instead of my loveys.  And if I have to lean on someone, I’d like to lean on my guy.  So, I thought we could do a “first look.”

Then we started “Wedding Wednesdays” (love them) and one of the items on the agenda was for him to give me his opinion on “first looks.”  Of course, Mr. Traditionalist (except, evidently, for living in sin) wanted to see me for the first time on the aisle.  Who am I to keep a guy from his romantic wedding wish?

So crap.  Back to the beginning.  I could ask my dad to escort me and it would be sweet.  We have a much better relationship now that I have a much greater appreciation for him and the gifts I’ve inherited from him.  Or I could ask both of my parents as I did for my first wedding.  It took both of them to create my fabulous self, right? (*snicker*)  Either option would be fine and I’d have someone to lean on.

But is it bad that I really, really, really want to escort myself?  Traditions and potential hurt feelings aside — not to mention possible face-plants — I feel like a grown-up for the very first time in my almost 30 years and I’m making a fully-aware decision to join someone in a life I see clearly and honestly.  I see what a marriage really is and I’m choosing it anyway.  While I mean no disrespect to my fabulous parents or their awesome impact on my life, it’s been a lot of darned hard work to be able to stand proud and pledge myself to a man… and I really want to do it all by my very own self!  {No, I didn’t stomp my foot when I said that, though I thought about it.  Ha.}

Will I regret it?  I don’t know.  I’ve scoffed at traditions in the past only to realize too late why they matter.  But my gut’s telling me that the way for me is by myself.  Evidently it doesn’t care about gravel trails and steep declines.

What about you?  How will you make it down the aisle?  Is anyone choosing their escort out of some inexplicable gut feeling?

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So much discomfort in one little post

Posted on April 24, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |

{Honey Sweetie Pie?  Don’t read this one.  It’s not about you at all, just about my dress drama.  Yes, you’re off the hook.}

This week I had my long-awaited alterations appointment.  Okay, I made it two weeks ago so it’s not really long-awaited, but it felt like it while I was waiting on the mailman to deliver my correctly-sized bra (I’m the friendliest customer he has, I’d bet, given how excited I am when he drives up).

Because my dress originally came from David’s Bridal, I figured I’d get it altered there… but I had a sneaking suspicion they’d be weird about my buying it second-hand, and I was right.  See my happy face?  Totally not related to this paragraph, but a good opportunity to use an unflattering picture.  Oh, yea, and I’m wearing too much makeup.


First, though, let me just tell you that the whole wedding-dress-fitting experience is not for the modest, no, sirree.  The curtains barely close and if you turn your head quickly enough, you’ll see the watchful eyes of the seamstress checking to see if you’re ready.  Not, “Are you almost ready, dear?” checking, but peering in to get a sense of how close you are to needing them checking.  Like a really good server at a restaurant, except you’re in your undies with your patooty hanging out and boobs looking larger than life.  Which I suppose could be your restaurant experience depending on the type of establishments you frequent, but without judging I will just say it doesn’t work that way in my world.


Back to the story.  All along I figured I’d get the sides taken in a bit, the hem lifted a tad, and the simplest bustle ever put in.  I budgeted $150 figuring it would cost a bit more.  I was so wrong.


I’m often struck by how the wedding-planning experience magnifies personality quirks.  I am easily swayed by the smiles of other people and uncomfortable speaking up in the midst of that kind of gentle groupthink.  Standing in my quickly purchased flats (for practicality) in a 12 point bustle (for wow factor), I knew that my bill was going to exceed what I paid for the entire dress and that the bustle was too complicated for my tastes.  And yet, I handed over the plastic and walked out with an appointment to pick up my dress.


And then felt that uncomfortable sinking feeling my belly for the next hour.

I felt unsettled.  Wearing flats isn’t my style (practicality be damned, I lived in New York City and spent four years of my life running through airports in heels and skirts… for work, not for fun) and I was unexplainably pissed that I paid for more the alterations than for the dress.  Pissed.  Not unhappy, but angry.  I’d let myself down, and even more inexplicably, I’d let you all down.  If there’s been one theme to my posts, it’s that you have to know yourself and be yourself and not get caught up in all of the Wedding Industrial Complex crap, right?  And here I was, at the chainiest of bridal stores, paying up the wazoo for something I wasn’t sure was right for me.  {See, blogs can be good!}


So I called my mom, who has a knack for figuring out which of my feelings are crap and which are worthy of action, took a walk down to our ceremony site in heels (without a single stumble, wobble, or trip, thankyouverymuch), then called DB back to tell them I wasn’t so happy with my decisions.  And even though I did it in the most pathetic little voice, they understood and gave me a new appointment to come back with my shoes and concerns.


Don’t ignore the uncomfortable feelings, because whether you or anyone else thinks they’re worthy or justifiable or logical, they’ll dim your happiness just a tiny bit.  There are worse and more frivolous things than being happy because your shoes are hot pink.

On the bright side, the sides of my dress had to be taken in a whole bunch.  Makes a girl happy.

Tell me I’m not the only one who’s had to rewind and redo something because it just wasn’t right.  Did you feel Bridezilla-ish while you insisted on your way?  I sure did, but who cares… I get to decide whether I want to risk my neck for the right shoes, right?

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What’s next?

Posted on April 22, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |


We (okay, let’s be honest, I) babysat our neighbors’ six month old son this Saturday while they attended a wedding and it got me thinking about us and our future.  The conversation went something like this:

Me: “Honey, let’s wait like a decade until we have kids.  I need a nap.”

Him: “Okay.  Whatever.  Wait, but you’re really good with kids.  I had no idea.  You don’t even need me.  It’s like you know magic to get him to stop crying.”

Me: “Thanks.  It’s called bouncing around.  WAIT.  This is babysitting.  Don’t get your hopes up.  Come hang out with him.”

Him: “Wow, at six months, he’s like a real human who can play with me!”

Me: “Yup. Wanna hold him?”

Him: “Oh, gawd, ohgawdohgawd.  Like this?” {holding him like a very wriggly armful of laundry}

Me: “Good enough.  So, a decade?”

Him: “At least until we get the house under control.”

Me: “Right.  A decade.”

Him: “Not funny.  I’m going to move dirt.” {the never-ending drainage control project}

The older I get, the less I seem to know about kids.  See, I grew up with a huge extended family.  There was always at least one baby around and I was always the one wanting to hold him and keep him and never give him back.  I have baby-handling skills acquired at a young age, thank goodness, and they serve me well.

And yet, the older I get, the more I’m struck by how relentless the needs of babies are, how everything takes forever and makes a mess, how the only thing that keeps our species alive is the incredible cuteness of a baby’s laugh (seriously, why else would you happily wipe stinky poop off everything within a foot’s radius?).  I love that kid but I was very happy to give him back.

So for now, we have agreed on a series of goals before we start talking about having kids: finish the major work on the house, sell the bonus house, finish school, get our finances in order.  Oh, yea, and get married. 🙂

I wonder, though, at what point do you admit that the goals are, at least in part, delaying tactics?  Neither of our parents were stable in their careers, financially well-off, or living in their dream house when they had us, and we turned out okay.  And yet, it still feels like we have a long way to go before we’re ready.  We almost need a whole engagement period’s worth of talking just to be ready for the cutie pie.   Oh, wait, that’s called pregnancy, right?

Where are you in the whole when-to-have-kids* discussion?

*If you are having kids.  If you’re not, you get no judgment from me.  Swear.

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Ring pillow shmring pillow….

Posted on April 21, 2009. Filed under: crafty-crafty |

We won’t have a ringbearer, lacking boys of the appopriate age in our circle of friends and family.  We will, however, have the world’s best Junior Bridesmaid in my 12 year old niece, L.  She’s too grown up to be a flower girl, and too young to be a bridesmaid, so we decided that Junior Bridesmaid was the perfect role.

But what responsibilities to give her?  My stepsister, as flowergirl, will be charged with scattering rose petals along the path, but since L isn’t a flowergirl (an important distinction when you’re 12), what will she be doing?  Why, carrying the rings!  Yes, the real rings… but not on a pillow, no sirree.  She’ll be sporting a finger posy.  Behold.


(Again, excuse the quality of the cell phone picture… we’re working on a deadline here.}

That little bit of happiness is the latest creation of my fabulous Mama and is both pretty and pretty darned functional.  The rings, as you can see, are tied on with ribbons to avoid any last minute fumbles.  The fluffy posy hides an elastic band that will fit over her finger, again avoiding any accidental fumbles while leaving her hands free for any of those necessities that you can’t think of until you’re stuck holding something that you can’t put down.  Or to help keep a flowergirl upright while navigating a trail down a hill.

Is anyone else foregoing a traditional ring pillow for something more unique?

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When real life and blogland collide…

Posted on April 20, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |

My first comment on a bridal blog was about the Red Cross so I’m compelled to highlight a special blog post by a fellow blogger (and Tennesseean).  For those who don’t follow, her neighborhood was hit by a tornado about a week ago….


You can help people affected by this disaster, by donating to the American Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund. On those rare occasions when donations exceed Red Cross expenses for a specific disaster, contributions are used to prepare for and serve victims of other disasters. Your gift enables the Red Cross to provide shelter, food, counseling and other assistance to victims of all disasters. You can visit or call 1-800-REDCROSS or 1-800-257-7575 (Spanish) or mail your donation, to the American Red Cross, P.O. Box 37243, Washington, DC 20013.

You can also donate to help the victims of the Murfreesboro tornadoes at any Middle Tennessee Kroger store at the register as you check out. Just tell the cashier you would like to make a donation to the Red Cross for the Central Tennessee tornadoes.

The Red Cross is NOT accepting any donations of clothing, furniture or any other material items.

If you would like to volunteer, the CITY OF MURFREESBORO is asking you to call (615) 890-1934.

I was a Red Cross volunteer when my city hosted evacuees from the New Orleans area last year, and it was one of the most rewarding and humbling experiences of my life… and also super duper fun.  Really.  As volunteers, our “job” was to go around and talk to people.  Really!  Rather than avoid the topics at hand (evacuating, hurricanes, fear), we were allowed (nudged, even) to ask people how they were doing, talk to them about their fears and concerns, and share stories.

While the Red Cross won’t accept individual donations (they strive for fairness), supporting organizations will.  Our residents were housed in a church that provided bags of clothing for each family.  The most requested item that we didn’t have?  A bag to keep clothes in.  When you’re living in a shelter, it’s important to be able to keep your stuff together and easily mobile.

That struck me as the perfect suggestion to make here in the wedding-planning world.  How many of us have sourced inexpensive but sturdy OOT bags?  If you have any left over, donate to a church or other local organization that supports evacuees.  Perhaps make the same suggestion to your guests, offering a place for them to anonymously drop any bags that they know they won’t use again (and then ask a friend to drop them off for you after your wedding).

Of course, in lieu of favors, you can always make a donation to the Red Cross, or an organization of your guest’s choosing (Mrs. Lovebug’s charity tokens are my favorite way to do this).

Really, though, if you’ve ever briefly considered volunteering with the Red Cross but been just a little chicken (I was, and had to be given a literal push out of the car when the mister dropped me off for my shift), do it.  Do. It.  You’ll feel so freaking good afterward, and when people comment on what a selfless thing you’ve done, you’ll feel like that’s the craziest thing you’ve ever heard, because you got so much out of the experience.

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Our cheesy playlist

Posted on April 20, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |

I gotta tell you, I am getting really excited about our wedding, and the big reason behind that is our playlist.  It’s pretty freaking cool.  And by cool I mean totally cheesy and goofy – you know, just like us.  Our hope is that the night will be filled with, “Oh, my gawd I LOVE this song!”


Really, how can you NOT have a great time at a wedding when Wham and Toto are on the playlist?  Most of the credit goes to the mister, who was born about a decade too late.  Ready?  Here goes….

{They’re not organized in any way, just listed in the order they occurred to us.}

Song Title Artist
Rainbow Connection Kermit the Frog
Anything Johnny Cash
Take on Me Aha
Wake me up before you go-go Wham
Here in your arms hellogoodbye
On the road again Willie Nelson
You are so beautiful Joe Cocker
With a little help from my friends Joe Cocker
Up where we belong Joe Cocker
Sweet Caroline Neil Diamond
You’ve got a friend James Taylor
Walking on sunshine Katrina and the Waves
Walk like an egyptian The Bangles
Heaven is a place on earth Belinda Carlisle
Blister in the sun Violent Femmes
Sweet Home Alabama Lynyrd Skynyrd
Islands in the Stream Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton
Faithfully Journey
Sweet Child O Mine Guns N Roses
Welcome to the jungle Guns N Roses
Rocking the suburbs Ben Folds
Everlong Foo Fighters
Would you go with me Josh Turner
Your kiss is on my list Hall & Oates
Private eyes Hall & Oates
Maneater Hall & Oates
Uptown Girl Billy Joel
Piano Man Billy Joel
The Longest Time Billy Joel
It’s Still Rock and Roll To Me Billy Joel
Tiny Dancer Elton John
Africa Toto
Get out of my dreams (and into my car) Billy Ocean
At last Etta James
My Maria Brooks & Dunn
Neon Moon Brooks & Dunn
Living off the wall MJ
Billie Jean MJ
Country Road James Taylor
How Sweet It is James Taylor
You Save Me Kenny Chesney
Black Horse and the Cherry Tree KT Tunstall
Boondocks Little Big Town
Bring it on home Little Big Town
Sunday Morning Maroon 5
Long Day Matchbox 20
Can’t help falling in love Elvis
For Once in My Life NOT Michael Buble (Stevie Wonder)
Moondance Michael Buble
I’m Yours Jason Mraz
Here Comes the Sun Beatles
Obladi, oblada, life goes on Beatles
What a wonderful world Michael Buble (not Louie)
Bye Bye Phil Vassar
My Next Thirty Years Phil Vassar or Tim McGraw
Feels Like Today Rascal Flatts
God Bless the Broken Road Rascal Flatts
Mrs. Robinson Simon & Garfunkel
Settlin’ Sugarland
Come On Get Higher Matt Nathansen
Down in the west texas town of el paso… no idea
Fishing in the dark Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Maria (Shut up and kiss me) Willie Nelson
Time after time Willie Nelson
2 something Spin Doctors
I’m a scatman Scatman
Angel Eyes Jeff Healy
Life is a Highway Not Rascal Flatts
I wish Skee Lo
Love Fool The Cardigans
Rubberband Man TI
Crazy on You Heart
You spin me right round Adam Sandler
Owner of a lonely heart Yes
Sweet Dreams Eurhythmics
Karma Chameleon Culture Club
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Cindy Lauper
Mr. Jones Counting Crows
Spoonman Sound Garden
Slide Goo Goo Dolls
Brown Eyed Girl Van Morrison
Smooth Rob Thomas Santana
All Night Long Lionel Richie
Baby Girl Sugarland
Lady Styx
Who Do You Love George Thorogood
Making Memories of Us Keith Urban
Keep On Loving You REO Speedwagon
Somewhere over the rainbow/ what a wonderful world Israel Kamakawiwo’ole
Just the Way You Are Diana Krall (or Billy Joel if that’s easier)
To the Beat of the Rhythm of the Night DeBarge
Take Me Home Tonight Eddie Money
Summer Breeze Seals & Crofts
Don’t Stop Believing Journey
Fooled Around and Fell in Love Mickey Thomas
Now That We Found Love Heavy D and the Boyz
Under the Bridge Red Hot Chili Peppers
Brown Eyed Girl Van Morrison
Bye Bye Blackbird Joe Cocker
A Kiss to Build a Dream On Louis Armstrong
Paint It Black The Rolling Stones
Back in Time Huey Lewis and the News
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Cindy Lauper

After that bit of goodness, what more can I possibly say? I’ll write more about our music plan in another post. Are you channeling your inner cheese for your playlist?

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If I could do it all over again…

Posted on April 17, 2009. Filed under: Uncategorized |

Remember when I said that I wasn’t going to spend one. more. minute thinking about invites?  I lied.  What can I say?

The most frustrating part of my whole invitation experience was that, had I planned a little better, I would have been much, much happier — all while spending about the same amount of money.

Learn from my mistakes, ye who follow.

I spent $52 for 60 invitations.  Not bad, right?  But I wasn’t happy at all with the quality of the paper.   I even debated buying new stationery, or at the very least envelopes, because I was so unhappy with them.

Paper Source

Stardream Quartz Pointed Flap Enclosure Flat Card: on sale at $3.25 for 25 = $9.75

Stardream Opal Half-Moon / Pocket Folder Enclosure Flat Card: on sale at $2.88 for 25 = $8.64

Sage A2 Rounded Card: on sale at $3.25 for 25 = $9.75

Pointed Flap – Butter Envelopes: on sale at $4.13 for 10 = $24.78

Total: $52.92.  With the same cost for stamps – $12 – the total would have been about $64… just $12 more than what I went with.  The trick with Paper Source, by the way, is to go straight to the Sale link and pick your options.

This wedding-planning thing sure makes you face who you are and what matters to you.  And if I have any advice to offer you, even those of you trying to stick to extreme budgets for whatever reason, it’s this: make sure you’re happy.  Now, I’m not saying that you need to be thrilled, or that every detail needs to be everything you’d always hoped, but you do need to be happy and willing to defend your decisions and details.

My invites didn’t meet that standard.  I hand carried one to a neighbor and found myself giving myself a pep talk on the way over.  “Don’t apologize for them; don’t mention that you bought them for less than twenty bucks; don’t apologize for them….”  This is no way to feel.

I like the invitation itself; if you know us, you’ll understand.  I like the inserts directing folks to RSVP online or by phone.  The design is simple and clean with a little bit of quirkiness.  I hate the envelopes.  Hate.  They’re cheap and flimsy and they make me sad.

In the end, having already spent the money on invites that were not reusable in any way, I kept them.  And I’m over it.  But if I had it to do all over again… well, now you know.

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    I’ve been there, done that, got the t-shirt (and divorce papers) to prove it. Here I am again, pledging my life to my (new) love with eyes wide open (and heart racing) knowing full well how emotionally traumatic this can end… and doing it anyway.


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