Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Up Where the Air is Clear

OK, I have dilly dallied long enough. It's time for everyone to learn the truth: I'm having TWO receptions.

You did not read wrong. Indeed, I said I AM HAVING TWO WEDDING RECEPTIONS.

A little confession - as I write that - I get a little psychotically giddy - sort of maniacally laughing and simultaneously feeling like I might cry. But overall, the complete and utter ridiculousness of the situation has overtaken me and I think it's more funny than anything. This whole situation is so completely and totally outside of the realm of anything I ever imagined for my wedding, my life or anything outside of a Drew Barrymore movie, that I can't help but giggle. (And the phrase "wacky hijinks" keeps coming to mind.)

I'm sure you might be wondering how this came to be (after all, I still sort of find myself wondering how this came to be). I'm also assuming that you're questioning exactly what I mean by two receptions. (You are probably thinking something like: "Oh, I guess she means that they're having a little party at someone's house for people who can't make it or something, right?") Wrong. [The hysterical giggle is caught in my stomach again by the way. And yes, it must be my stomach because it's gurgling and I don't want to even think of what else it could possibly be.]

To explain further: Reception #1 will be in Baltimore with 125-135 people in attendance, catered and complete with photographer (if I ever book one), florist (ditto), DJ (ditterino), and white dress (ditty ditty bang bang).

Reception #2 will be in New Jersey (Sprung From Cages on Hwy 9) with 100-125 people in attendance, complete with catering, DJ, and such nuptially fabulous effects as projected images of me and Mr. F as children flickering on the wall (yes, this is a very specific detail but it's a long story and I can't even begin to explain it here).

I'm tired just thinking about explaining how this all happened. And I wasn't kidding; I'm really not quite sure how this came about. Essentially, Mr. F and I decided that we wanted to keep our wedding relatively small. This meant that both my parents and Mr. F's parents would not have the opportunity to invite every single person that they would like to have at the wedding. And I knew that Mr. F's parents might be the most social people over age 55 I've ever seen (he's a dentist, they play tennis, and do ballroom dancing in their spare time - they're very popular). And I got a little flack from my parents and his parents about this (i.e., neither was able to invite friend's children), but to me, this wasn't really major. In the scheme of other wedding issues, it seemed as though no one was feeling that they were dealing with large-scale friends and/or family omissions. Until the other night. (Which was reviewed in great detail in my post from a few days ago.)

During which discussion it became overwhelmingly apparent that Future-Mother-in-Law and Future-Father-in-Law felt strongly that they had...[calculating on abacus]...about A HUNDRED people that they really HAD TO INVITE and who they were seriously offending by failing to invite them to the wedding. (As an aside, one of the groups of people that they had to invite is now generally referred to in shorthand between me, Mr. F and his parents as "The Romanians" - which is seriously hilarious to me (Mr F's dad is Romanian and apparently every Romanian in the NY/NJ area has a strong friendship that cannot be crossed or else you are "out" of the Romanian circle. It all seems very "Godfather-esque" which is super cool to me and I'm envisioning requests for periodontristry procedures to be made during the wedding reception and my God-Father-in-Law saying to a cowering Romanian acquaintance: "But you don't ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me Godfather. Instead, you come into my home on the day my daughter-in-law's to be married and you ask me to do dentistry for dollars." Oh god, that's so terrible, I'm groaning. But still - I love the whole Romanian thing. I'm also hoping they drink lots of vodka like the Russians and/or like blintzes. Although Mr F and I have been dating more than three years and the closest I've seen him come to that is tequila and crepes.)).

After the discussion, as you may recall, the issue was tabled. I reiterated that we'd been hoping to keep the wedding small but we would talk about it later. Two nights later, with the issue still on my mind, I turned to Mr F while in bed and said "Screw it - let's just see how many people your parents are thinking they need to invite and we'll do that. Forget a small wedding - what's the point anyway?" We agreed Mr. F would talk to his parents the following day.

The next night Mr F and I opened a bottle of wine, poured it into two giant blue plastic cups and went for a walk. (Don't judge us. Pre-marital planning of this level would push anyone to dump half a bottle of Trader Joe's white wine into a Dixie Cup. I'm just proud of myself that I'm not carrying a flask in my pocketbook engraved with the words "The wedding is off.") We (as might be expected) returned an hour later, having purchased a bunch of nonsensical organic-y items from Whole Foods (a bad place to go when under the influence) and more than a little tipsy. At which point Mr. F decides he should address the guest list issue with his parents. (Note: "More than a little tipsy" = drunk as a skunk). Twenty minutes later, he comes in from the other room looked slightly bewildered (but let's face it - still pretty happy - that white wine is MAGIC) and says: "My parents are throwing us a second reception at a wedding hall. I think this might be a good solution. [E&E: to what? I don't know] My mom wants to talk to you." He thrusts the phone in my face.

My mind was trying to work a hundred miles an hour to figure out if this was good news or bad news and to calculate a response. But addled with cheap white wine and sheer exhaustion, it simply failed on me. Blank. Next thing I know, I've agreed to a second reception. Honestly I really don't know why or how. I think somehow I was convinced that it would be more convenient and make everyone happy and some other stuff. I'm still a little fuzzy on the details. One detail I'm not fuzzy on - I now need to call my Mom and tell her that the wedding she and Dad are throwing isn't sufficient for Future-Parents-in-Law and that they are throwing a second party of all their friends only and my Parents are requested to attend. Mom should love this one.

[Note: my head is beating over my left eye like a metronome...actually for some reason I keep thinking of the Little Drummer Boy - it's very "rum tum tum tum." Except it's not Christmas. No presents to be had, no eggnog to sip, no tree to decorate. Just the minefields of wedding planning; something ready to detonate around every corner. Merry Frickin Christmas.]

2 comments:

Beth said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Beth said...

Hey! I've been catching up on your blog, and, um, just... wow. Your writing is so funny, though, that I feel guilty over the enjoyment I'm getting out of reading your disaster story.
Keep the cheap white wine flowing into your big blue plastic cup!