This getting married thing seemed like such a good idea when I was young and naive – three weeks ago. Now I am feeling a bit jaded, a little very frustrated, and sadly a bit over the planning.
But I must plan, I must have a list, but I have few things that I can tick off that list right now.
On the upside, I seem to have a dress. But start questioning myself that maybe I found the dress too early. Maybe my REAL dress is waiting out there calling me. I really need to get over my mental illness and pay the people for my dress, else my dress actually won’t be my dress and then I will be back to square one.
Wedding venues or the location of them, appears to be something that separates the resourceful from the clinically insane. I appear to be in the second category, as I pop yet another Zoloft to ease the pain.
It has become apparent that if I booked an establishment and brought along 60 – 80 of my closest friends, an overhead projector and a laser pointer I would be charged one price.
The minute I use the word “wedding” in any of my discussions, suddenly I am hit with a venue fee that makes me weep, the food cost quadruples in value, and it seems the fine print at the bottom of all these offers gets finer and more detailed. People keep using the phrase “your perfect wedding.”
Listen, my perfect wedding would be handing a wedding planning +R200 000.00, some basic ideas and then ask her to call me the day before the wedding to just tell myself and Kennith where to go.
I really do not want to get involved in where, how much it costs, whether there is a duck in a pond and whether my guests can drink in the chapel.
I am too pretty to be weighed down by this sort of detail.
We initially had the rather misguided idea that we were going to get married in the Hermanus or Stanford area.
At this stage the rather over-priced, not efficient and really not friendly people of that area have seriously put me off using the area as a location – only because they won’t have me, not for lack of trying. I have easily contacted a dozen places and have met with heart ache every time.
I am feeling a need to make a call to a help line that deals with abused and disheartened women, maybe ones that offer wine as a self-medicating route.
Right now – I have one outstanding query and it is sort of the place that appears the most workable. The reason I say appears is because madam proprietor appears unable to email or call me and confirm anything. I have emailed her twice and called her three times.
My best was yesterday. I called – feeling really annoyed because I was still waiting. Let’s call her Jenny – because that is her name -was out at Bridge could not deal with my query. What she has been doing for the last week also escapes me a little, but I need to practice my “be patient” mantra as Jenny is out playing Bridge.
When I am old and less annoyed, I would like to go off and play Bridge, and not worry about the little things in life.
I have since realized that clearly the Overberg does not want to be party to our nuptials and it is time to put on my big girl panties and start looking in the Cape Town area. I am still dealing with the venue fee +cost per head + ludicrous wine costs + and any other extras they decide to throw in.
My head hurts, my humour is failing me, and I am waking up at 3am lying in bed thinking about all this crap.
At this rate I am turning into a very angry, very frustrated nearly bride.