Here’s something I found out recently–planning a wedding is obnoxious–almost as obnoxious as Gwyneth Paltrow! Before I start bitching, I will say that things have been good, and we’re lucky that my wonderful parents are graciously paying for it, and Mike’s wonderful parents are picking up the booze and rehearsal dinner. We are INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL.
But here’s my wedding rant.
Invitations. The place where I got my invitations sent me a wonderful box of goodies with my name and Mike’s name all over the contents. I took everything over to my grandparents house with the goal to do a marathon invitation stuffing session and get that shit in the email. Only once I was ready did I realize that they failed to send me the right RSVP envelopes.
So all my RSVP cards would go to a woman named Jenny in New Jersey. Invitations are on hold. I haven’t forgotten about you.
Can I also just say that the price of invitations is RIDICULOUS?! It’s a piece of paper that people will stick on their refrigerator or bulletin board for two months prior to your wedding. On the day of your wedding, they’ll peel it down, stick it in the cup holder of their car where it will get stained by last week’s coffee, and reference it only to find out how to get to the church and then to the reception. And then, in the morning, they’ll throw it away.
So if my invitations are not incredibly fancy and you are disappointed, I apologize. But really, what do you care? On October 27, it’ll be in the trash.
Where do I believe that the money should be spent on a wedding?
BOOZE, Photographer, DJ, Food, Cake. Because really? I don’t remember what one invitation looked like, what one bridesmaid bouquet looked like (except for those weddings I was in), what the flower girl wore, what the wedding favors were (although mine are going to rock), or whether or not the chairs had bows on the back.