On the phone with my mother:
“Andrew and I were thinking about having pie instead of wedding cake.”
(I am pretty sure there was a gasp in here somewhere.)
“What?! You have to have cake!”
“But I’ve read a lot of articles that say most of the cake gets wasted. And Andrew and I don’t really like cake that much.”
“But what if people there don’t like pie?”
“But not everyone likes cake.”
“You have to have a cake. I’ll buy the cake.”
These are the kinds of conversations I am having now.
It has a month since I became engaged to the ginger in my life, but I have been in the “pre-engaged” state for over a year. Andrew and I always knew we would get married; we just weren’t as specific about the when. In that limbo, I have made several secret boards on Pinterest dedicated to wedding centerpieces, themes, invites, and the whole lot. I have hunted down venues in my area through Google searches, Facebook stalking, and general luck. Add on top of everything that I am one of those women who has dreamed of my wedding day since I could play dress up, and you would think I have nothing to sweat about, right? The truth is I am as overwhelmed and daunted by the task of planning as other brides.
I hate to make decisions. You should see me stress over a menu. (And I am vegetarian, so there usually are not that many.) Don’t get me wrong. Pinterest dreams are wonderful, but when the wedding becomes a reality, those hundreds of pins suddenly need to be whittled down. I have to choose. And those picture perfect marquee lights or those sparkly tablecloths suddenly come with conditions. Like a (barely there) budget. An ever-changing guest list. The question of whether we should get married near our hometowns or near Knoxville where we moved to less than a year ago. My own sanity, etc.
Before the clamor of congratulations has even died down, Andrew and I already feel ourselves struggling. We struggle with our individual ideas about what our wedding should be, what our families think, and how we are ever going to pull this thing off. With a modest budget and living off of one income for the time being, DIY seems our best bet. But our skills and our friends’ skills are limited. We are in a new town across the state from our families. My best friends are scattered across the country. We don’t know someone with an idyllic backyard to let us borrow. I didn’t inherit a crafty gene so that I can sew my own sheath dress and veil. I don’t have a make-up artist friend or a fiancé with a troop of groomsmen who can build an intricate altar from tree limbs found in the woods. I also suck at baking. Even my brownies burn. What we do have, however, is a handful of people who love us and the love we have for each other. I think that is a good place to start.
So here I am, between a rock and a white cake, meaning two different things. The first is that I want to start this blog to record and invite you on my journey from newly engaged to newlywed. Step by step, I want you to see my mistakes, my breakdowns, my triumphs, and my joy. The second foreshadows the decisions Andrew and I are about to make, from the intimidating question of hometown bash or intimate affair to the great debate of pie versus cake.
So thanks for reading, and remember…
Keep the love first,