- 10 years ago
- Wedding: January 2012
bees — we have a SITUATION.
one of the many critical pieces of the wedding experience is the invitation suite – i mean, it even has a fancy name – so clearly this is critical. soooo.. months and months ago, the boy and i embarked upon the great save the date / invitation search. the boy took it like a champ (he actually thinks this component is as important as i do), i devolved into a catatonic, monosyllabic zombie that began shaking and heading towards the nearest bar after hours of fonts, inks, papers, packages, liners, evelopments, blah blah blah….
one thing that came out of this experience was realizing that the boy and i have completely different design sense.
me: clean, sophistcated, almost architectural
that boy: ornate, intricate, scroll-y
and sooooo — the first compromise in ON. luckily – we are pretty good compromisers, and each willing to step to the middle a bit in this process. i am not one of these girls that has dreamt of their wedding day their entire life or put pillow cases on her head and played bride…. i was the child that thought a husband should live in the house next door to yours so you could see him whenever you wanted and then go home. while there is nothing fundamentally wrong with dreaming of your big day — i could never imagine it, without having actually met the person that i might, in fact, do this with. and so, here we are.
anyhoozle — the shock of our divergent design sensibilities aside, we actually landed fairly easily upon a save the date design that made us both happy… and, we thought, told the beginning of our ‘wedding story’ (the boy is in marketing, you know…). ivory cardstock, charcoal thermography printed (these are things you learn when sucked into wedding world), subtle design nod towards our island location, a little humor…. i, of course, can’t leave anything ‘stock’ — and so, i lovingly cut vellum overlays and hand tied every mother-effing one with silver ribbon…. perfect. done. we got this.
well, we had such luck with our save the dates (courtesy of wedding paper divas and william arthur)…. that upon invitation time, we went back to the source. how could they steer us wrong? the save the dates exceeded our every expectation! we began narrowing down the prospects and pricing packages… i selected some that were more ‘me’ and some that were more ‘devin’.. and some in the middle. hey! i am getting good at this “compromising” stuff!
we make our selection!
thank yous. done.
inner envelopes. check.
annnnd we pay (gulp).
as a stress-prone, over-thinking, over-analyzing, probably borderline OCD blushing bride – i cannot tell you the weight that was lifted off my shoulders after that final CLICK. major piece of the puzzle in place… on to the next decision.
i obsessively track the shipment all week, like charting santa clause’s sleigh on christmas eve.
my item is ready for shipment! fantastic!
my item is in memphis! yeeeHAW!
my item has landed in NJ! YO jes bring me dah box alreddddy.
my item is in the local fedex center. wooot woooot!!
MY ITEM IS ON THE TRUCK FOR DELIVERRRRYYYYYY! get me a xanax!!!!!
after trying to convince devin that i should *really* just go ahead and open these at the office to “proof them” – – i realize i should, in fact, bring them home… so we can OOOH AAAHHH together. these are his invitations too, and he spent just as much time going through the details as i did.
and so, i LUG the box. the SIXTEEN POUND box, DOWN four flights of stairs at my hotel… DOWN two flights of stairs in the subway… the crowded, rush hour subway… UP two flights of stairs out of the subway…. UP four flights of stairs to the apartment (top floor, naturally).
DO – DOOO -DO – DOOOOOOOO <those are the trumpets, see>
we open the box.
we take out the inside boxes.
we open them up.
THUD. <that is the sound of panic when we realize that these are NOT what we wanted>
my heart begins racing. i can literally HEAR the blood pulsing in my head, as it starts throbbing and i try not to go into a full on panic attack. the boy (also disappointed, but not about to lose consciousness like i am) quietly removes himself from the immediate area (he’s smart, this one)… and i go into full on damage control mode.
i contact the purveyor to express our, um, extreme under-whelm-ed-ness?? with the product.. and am immediately told, that no detailed explanation is even required…. to send them back and they will credit me the entire amount of my purchase. this = good.
and THEN the tears come. i am exhausted, and have just had my little bridal tootsies knocked right out from under me… this major… critical…. ginormous weight had only been temporarily lifted from my shoulders… and now, was right back on.. and somehow even heavier the second time around.
to add insult to injury? you guessed it.
i LUG the box. the SIXTEEN POUND box, DOWN four flights of stairs at my house… DOWN two flights of stairs in the subway… the crowded, rush hour subway… UP two flights of stairs out of the subway…. UP four flights of stairs to the the hotel….
and the invitation hunt… is back on. having now lost 10 days from my schedule and another teensy piece of my sanity.
. . . to be continued (unfortunately)