Please stop inviting people I don't know to the wedding
15.07.15, 10:28 am
The royal blue tie doesn't match the tartan on James's kilt. We brought them both up to Dumfries as James wants to get a new kilt jacket and waistcoat, and as soon as we laid it all out on the bed it was obvious. Felt like I did at Christmas when we suddenly realised we were 20 invites short and had used up all the ribbon and card, and I had to curb the impulse to rampage through the house bellowing at the walls. In a normal, sane world, having bridesmaid dresses and boys' ties that aren't the same colour would be no big deal. But this is Wedding Land, so it's the equivalent of telling the Queen to piss off or something. Anyway, the boys will now have silver ties and it'll just have to not match.
Had lots of fun in the kilt shop, looking at all the little daggers that are INCREDIBLY expensive to say they just sit in your sock. There was also a whole wall full of sporrans, the most phallic thing in existence. A big furry bag with dangly bits that just has to hang exactly over where your genitals are. Scots are so unsubtle.
Another bit of nonsensical angst with Dad, where he and Amanda originally decided that they weren't coming to the pre-wedding evening meal with the two families and gave no reason why, probably because 'Amanda hates people and fun and I am a spineless shell of the person I used to be' sounds terrible even to him. However, they've just RSVPed by email to James's parents and said they ARE coming, but they haven't told me this. So Dad is probably back to resenting me and thinking I owe him an apology, which I'll deal with by not ringing him for 3 weeks.
The rest of the Dumfries trip was fun, and we bought our wedding rings. Dealing with insane wedding prices has definitely allowed me to master my Impassive Face, as I barely flinched when the ring woman told us that James's plain palladium ring would cost £460. I'm tempted to weld it to James's skin when the time comes, just for safe-keeping. Finally, the seating plan was chewed over. I'd had two beers but it wasn't enough, and a bit of stress might have leaked out, but I think I got away with it. It's just, it was all going OK until James's parents told us that they wanted to invite four more people, two of which James hasn't even met before. Like, you already have 900 of your friends coming already, and the fact that you were last-minute invited to these people's children's weddings doesn't really sway me. And no, I'm not knocking up two more official invites because an email isn't 'the best way of doing it'. Because if I see that box of cream card and purple love hearts again, I think I might genuinely develop an axe-murder-rampage problem.
Back at work, or the Place Where Fun Goes To Die. I honestly try my best to be a diligent worker, but these days I do spend quite a lot of time Googling 'cheap table placeholders' and worrying about whether James will go all faint during the ceremony because he has low blood pressure and a reputation for passing out in stressful situations. Who will catch him? Does it have to be me, in my dress with its insanely long train? My other current favourite worry is whether my period will arrive on the big day. This is an excellent worry to have, as there's literally NOTHING I can do about it , so can spend many pointless minutes agonizing about something completely out of my control. And then two days ago my body gave me a period that was 8 days early, and suddenly the stakes have changed, and my period may come early. But maybe then the next period will be 10 days late! And there's only 2 periods left to go! It's so exciting. And in no way makes me resent James for being a man and therefore not having to worry about any of this shit.
Oh, and we bought 150 cellophane bags for £5 to put the shortbread favours in. But that doesn't warrant an entire paragraph because even I have standards.
last - next