Every Task You Undertake

I think forlorn is the right word. But if it's not, then it's a word I like. Maybe defeated and tired are better or more accurate, or whatever. That's how I felt after the collapse of Plans A, B, Bb, C, and D. And I resolved that I was done. Done with "Plans" or attempts or full-scale reconnaissance. I was just going to find a hotel and make my parents happy and try to repair my worsening ulcer by just choosing something.

And you know what? I did. I looked at about 20 more places, all in Baltimore. And then I went to the first one on the list. And it was really nice. Beautiful, in fact. Was it my personality? No. Was it where I envisioned getting married? No. Was it lovely? Absolutely. And so I told Mr. F. He looked. And agreed. Lovely. Done. And I told Mom and Dad. ["Yes Mom, it's a hotel. No Mom, it's not a Marriott."]

And lo and behold, they said ok.

And we actually signed a contract. And pried a deposit out of my Mom's tightly wound fist.

And I have a date. And a location.

Yes, I'm excited. But also, a little...forlorn.

Just a Spoonful of Sugar Makes the Medicine Go Down

Officially six months since the engagement. And not a venue in sight.

I decided to bite the bullet and look at hotels for wedding venues (i.e., what my parents want; not what I want).*

Spoonful of sugar = shutting my parents up.

Medicine = hotel wedding.

Apparently, in every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. If I just FIND THE FUN, then *snap*, the job's a game. I'm going to find the fun. Be back soon.

*As an aside, I feel inclined to note that my parents are OBSESSED with the Marriott. I have no idea why. Not to say Marriott isn't nice. But it's odd. And all types of Marriott - Marriott Courtyard, Marriott Renaissance, you name it. Odd. And annoying when trying to plan a wedding. (e.g., "Mom, I found this hotel for our guests to stay in!" [pause] "Is it a Marriott?")

Plan D - In the Words of Pres Bush: "Mission Accomplished"

All done! I rescued Zelda. Got the brass ring. Been there, done that, nailed her shut. Option three was perfect. It was a beautiful historic inn dating back from the 18th century, but refurbished with modern day amenities and perfectly manicured grounds. The 15-room inn looked out over the Bay and had a charming old covered dock where we could have cocktails, before we all adjourned to the ballroom, the latter of which framed the outside grounds with its floor to ceiling windows and lit the room with a fresh clean feel.

Unfortunately, our budget only allowed us a Sunday wedding, which wasn't ideal in this location, given that it meant that we couldn't check in until Sunday at 3:00 for a 4:00 wedding. But I loved the place enough that I was willing to stay at a different hotel the night before and loved the idea that the night of the event, our closest friends and family would all be in one place AND not a single outsider would be there for the wedding!

Here's the funny thing. As we're leaving, Mr. F (who's apparently not as oblivious as I usually think) says to me: "Your parents are going to HATE this place." And I turned to him, AGHAST at his blasphemy and said "You are totally wrong."

On the way home, I called my parents, and told them we'd found the place! And a date! (May 3rd.)

My parents told me that they were thrilled and would plan a trip down to the Inn to visit it next weekend. I would meet them there and we would sign the contract, put down the deposit and send out the Save The Dates! As the week passed by, my mind grew dizzy with spring wedding ideas. I would be able to carry a thick bouquet of yellow tulips, my favorite, and the colors would be a beautiful bright yellow and a grass green with tons of lovely whites and a vintage feel. Lemonade before the ceremony (such a thoughtful complimentary touch by the Inn) and mint juleps during cocktail hour (such an intoxicatingly thoughtful touch by yours truly).

In fact, the timing could not have been more perfect. Mom and Dad were throwing us an engagement party the weekend before their planned trip down to the bay to sign the contract and we began spreading the exciting news. Breaking news! - E&E and Mr. F have found a place! Yes, it's an adorable little inn on the Chesapeake; no, you should not wear shorts just because it's not a fancy hotel; no, an "inn" does not infer that this is like a "Days Inn"; yes, my parents are ok with the wedding not being in a hotel. I think.

OK, OK. Clearly we see where this is going, right?? I'll skip the part where I left work early to drive two hours to the Chesapeake Bay, imagining myself walking over the little white bridge that would lead to the ceremony site, and envisioned crab cake entrees delicately paired with a petit filet (since May would actually be in-season!). And we'll just jump right along to my arrival at the sweet little inn with the beautiful grounds and the moment I saw my parents sitting in the living room of the Inn looking over their notes.

And this is the first thing my father said: "Your mother got grease all over her pants. She must have gotten something on her from the walls here or something. She's in the bathroom trying to clean it off."

Hmm. Let's ponder that, shall we?

E&E's translation: "This place is rustic, which we think is dirty. It's not like the places where our friends' children get married. That makes us uncomfortable. We don't want you to get married here. And I have not said 'hello' or 'how are you' or 'we love it here' because you will soon realize we don't like this place."

And then he went on: "So, we want to discuss some things with you. Do you realize that they don't pour wine for you at dinner? You need to get up and get a drink if you want it. And do you realize that the breakfast buffet is only pancakes and pre-made eggs? There's no bagels. [E&E: The horror! No bagels? What shall we f---ing do? Sorry. Still angry.] Also, you can't check in until 3:00. And if you're not a guest of the Inn you have to leave after the wedding. [E: You mean non-paying guests can't just loiter around? Shocking! ...sorry...still angry...] And also, the rooms are different sizes and we have to determine who should stay where. And also, we thought the girl showing us around was a little weird. Did you notice that? And we have other things we didn't like. Let me look at page 3 of our list of things we didn't like. Hold on."

And so we didn't sign the contract. And then a couple days later my parents told me that they thought that if I chose the Inn Location (which I thought I already had, but apparently, I had not), that they were planning to stay somewhere else.

Hmmm.

So I told them that Mr. F and I would find another location more suitable to their wedding vision. Yes, their vision. Because I had just realized that in no way, shape or form was this my wedding. Or anything remotely having to do with my happiness, my personality and/or the future that Mr. F and I were solemnly vowing to enter into together. Good times.

Which Brings us Back To D'oh!

Plan A = FAILED
Plan B = FAILED
Plan Bb = REJECTED BY PARENTS
Plan C(ape May) = REJECTED BY E&E

That brings us to Plan D. After realizing that any type of destination wasn't really an option, I decided to move forward with Plan D(IMBY). [Plan Definitely in my Backyard.] While Mr. F and I dreamed of a warm destination wedding on the water, we realized it wasn't going to happen in the tropics of BVI or Florida. But Maryland has one of the most lovely natural bodies of water in the States - the Chesapeake Bay. And while a one year engagement was ideal (destination wedding was to be in January), there was no reason we couldn't just get married in the warm May weather in the U-S-of-A. So we decided to look right in our own backyard and scope out options right over the Bay Bridge (which by the way, is one of the prettiest drives over a bridge there is...that is, if you can get over the fact that it's really high and there are very small little bumpers on the side instead of those really high strong steel ones that make you feel safe...and if your driver - Mr. F - doesn't look out at the water instead of the road) on Maryland's Eastern Shore.

Mr. F and I decided to make a weekend of it. We would stay at one of the potential hotel options and have Maryland crabs (potential rehearsal dinner - so fun, right?) and walk around the towns of Easton and St. Michael's during the day in between taking a look at the venues. We had 6 different options. Options galore in fact.

The first option was an Inn right on the water (we could actually say our "I Do's" right on a boat off the dock while our guests sat on the dock - how cool is THAT?), and the people were sweet, but definitely a bit run-down for our taste. (And the carpet and walls were a little too Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat for my taste - I was overpowered by the desire to break in to song and use excessive amounts of jazz hands - but that song was NOT Canon in D and I'm not sure if Fosse has a place in my processional). The second option was a gorgeous old restored hotel. The reception room had gorgeous high ceilings and soft light coming through floor to ceiling windows. But it didn't have a back up plan for the outdoor ceremony. (And E&E is fully expecting it to rain on her wedding day. Sorry, but I'm more of a half empty kinda gal. Actually, I take it back - I'm more of a "The waiter hasn't brought my glass yet, but I'm going to guess it will be half empty, because if I expect it to be half full, then I will surely be disappointed; whereas if I expect it to be empty but it's full (hopefully of a nice Zinfandel), then I am wonderfully and happily surprised!!).

Where was I? Yes, Option 3. Was Perfect.

(Sugar Honey Iced) Tea, A Drink with Jam & Bread

[Enraged & Engaged and her mother are driving in a car (a Volvo, to be exact) through New Jersey. E&E is home for Mother's Day weekend (in her family it's not a day, it's a weekend). They are discussing the desintegration of Plan B.]

Mom: So honey, where are you thinking of having the wedding now? You really ought to get a date set. There's no reason it should take so long. And so many people are...asking.

E&E: [Mumbling under her breath.] You mean now that you told me to stop looking in Florida?

Mom: What, dear?

E&E: Nothing, I said 'I don't know.' We're thinking of some place by the water in Maryland. You know, since we met in California and spent so much time on the water and all.

Mom: Have you considered New Jersey?

E&E: You mean since the last time that you asked me if I considered New Jersey?

Mom: Oh, sweetie. You're so funny. Really, it's so close though. You really should think about it.

E&E: But none of my friends live in New Jersey.

Mom: Oh, honey.

E&E: And I don't live in New Jersey.

Mom: But you grew up here! And we're here!

E&E: And Mr. F doesn't live in New Jersey.

Mom: And there are so many options!

E&E: But I left New Jersey. I left the moment I graduated. And besides, I want to get married on the water.

Mom: Well, you know the Jersey Shore is just lovely.

E&E: But I had my PROM there! I don't want to get married the same place I associate with Zima and the overwhelming amounts of flannel I wore in 1994.

Mom: I'm not sure why you're being so stubborn. And you have no reason to hate New Jersey.

E&E: I didn't say I 'hated' New Jersey. Besides, I'm looking for something more...historic.

Mom: What about Cape May? Cape May is lovely. Your father and I really enjoy it there.

E&E: I don't want to get married in Cape May.

Mom: Well, it's really nice and if you would go and visit, I think you would see that.

E&E: I've been there. It's nice. But I don't want to get married in Cape May.

Mom: Well then, why?

E&E: I. don't. want. to.

Mom: Why?

E&E: Because I don't want to! Leave me alone!

Mom: You're being really unreasonable dear. I don't see any reason you won't consider a beautiful place on the water in New Jersey. Cape May is perfect. [Pauses.] This is why you still don't have a wedding location set.

E&E: I WENT TO CAPE MAY IN COLLEGE WITH MY BOYFRIEND AND I ASSOCIATE CAPE MAY WITH CHEAP CHAMPAGNE, CRAPPY SALT WATER TAFFY AND SEX WITH A PERSON THAT IS NOT MR. F.!!! WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO PUT THAT IN THE GODAMN VOWS?

[The Volvo is silent.]