Tuesday, August 21, 2012

just call me bridezilla

Yesterday evening, the boy and I frequented one of our favorite spots for a little dinner date night.  Favorite as in there's a waiter that recognizes me and is able to put-in my complicated menu order from memory.  And truth be told, it's a mexican restaurant.

Now, we can put my love for chips, salsa, & ranchero sauce aside...because it has truly nothing to do with the moral of this story.  I just really needed to get that off my chest.  My name is Jen & I'm a mexican food-aholic.

The point is that before we headed off to dinner, we had a little conversation.  And that little conversation went a little like this... {boy to me} "I don't think I ever realized how controlling you are until right now..."

Now, let's get some things straight.  I'm not really controlling.  I don't tell him what to wear or how to act. I don't care about any of that.  Because at the end of the day, he's  is who he is.  And I can't make him into someone else.

But, I've got to be honest with you. We've got a wedding coming up.  And I think I've been a bit of a monster about it.   All the decisions, all the stress, all the to-do lists, just the overall craziness of it all...has just done made me into a crazy lady.

Case in Point #1:  I had to confirm my address with my wedding coordinators, so that they could assemble & mail my invitations.  (Side note: If you ever get married, hire coordinators for that sole reason.)   In my controlling state of multi-tasking bridezilla overload, I sent them the wrong address.  I live at 608 and I emailed them 609.  Flash forward about a week.  The boy's dad gets an invite and sends me an odd message about how he's had our address wrong since we moved in.   At first, I was just confused.  I mean, seriously.  Doesn't the man know where we live?  But the doubt kept creeping into my mind and I knew the only way to sleep soundly at night would be to find the email I sent the girls with out address. Which was wrong.  And all my fault.  And all of this lead to even more crazy lady behavior: texts to bridesmaids, calls to the post office, a letter (Jeez Louise...I wrote it in red sharpie, okay?!) to the postman, harassing the boy about where he could place said letter in the mailbox, oh it goes on and on.

Now stories like these truly make me feel bad about myself.  I certainly don't want to be causing the boy all kinds of pain & misery....at least, not while he still has time to escape before this is really official.

All jokes aside, I'm ready for two things: the first look & the honeymoon.  Why those two things?  Because those two times in all this wedding mania will just involve the two of us.  There'll be no guests, no to-do lists, and no hooplah.  And  isn't that really what a wedding needs to be all about...two people, celebrating their love?

I'm just so ready to be with just him.  And probably a little ready to quit being a bridezilla.


No comments:

Post a Comment