The Planning Committee

If you follow this blog, by now you are aware that Josh and I decided to plan our wedding without professional help. At various points along the way, I have cursed myself for this decision and wondered if there are wedding planners available for last-minute emergencies (in case you are wondering, they do exist). But in the end, we had to be true to us and trust our inner circle-cum-planning committee to get everything done in time, and in style.

This weekend, my main team (comprised of my dutiful mother and sister-in-law, AKA Our Angels) spent 48 hours together tying up the loose ends… and over 100 pairs of flip flops. The duo raced all over Long Island doing our final bidding for us, getting the paper goods finished, the favors assembled, and myriad other thorns in my side released. They sent a few texts asking for our opinion but mostly just told us to trust them and stay out of it, which we did.

this image and the above were taken exactly a year ago in the wake of our engagement party. i am pleased to announce that Mom and Allie both still have their smiles intact.

The photos of our little details are so pretty I am tempted to show them to you now, but we will wait for a proper reveal. In the meantime, the planning committee (or the two heads of it, anyway) are desperately seeking stunt doubles who would be willing to stand in their places on the big day. I can be a nightmare in a crisis, and should anything go awry, Mom and Allie would much rather be throwing back a glass of bubbly than calming me down. I’m joking. Sort of.

Suffice it to say, I’m a lucky girl. And these two don’t even charge for their services! But if thank-you’s were payment, they’d be quite wealthy indeed.

What a Lovely List… and Something Blue!

I know, I know. You’re sick of hearing about me and my lists! But I must take a moment to ruminate on the magnificence of my husband-to-be. This man felt my pain. He heard my roar. He channel-surfed as I wept. I was too stressed! Too disorganized! He poured me a glass of wine. The next day, I made my list.

And um, as he pointed out, it was kind of a mess.

So, on Saturday, he set up his laptop and got to work. Josh turned my manic document into a glimmering, brilliant, beyond fabulous spreadsheet that is color-coded and can be sorted based upon deadline, responsible party, theme and more. Where does one procure a guy like this?, you ask. Well, I found mine in a bar. But I make no promises.

With nothing major to tweak out about today, I called my mom for a relaxed chat and we got into Big Day must-haves. I’ll wear my great-grandmother’s diamond pendant (old), my wedding dress (new), my mom’s diamond drop earrings (borrowed)… oh sh*t!

“MOM! What am I going to do about the BLUE?!”

“Jen. I have it covered. And the wedding is four months away. You need to chill.”

I drove home, opened my spreadsheet and just gazed at it; and now I am officially chill.

Banded By Drama

Oh, silly Jenny, you thought you were on top of your game! You gloated that your dress, the bridesmaids’ dresses, the venue, cake and flowers were lined up! You sent out your save-the-dates with cute little custom stamps featuring yourself and your betrothed! You sketched the wedding invites and even booked a date for your shower, which is not something you are supposed to do. You confirmed your officiant and even dreamed up a lovely wreath for your flower girl’s hair! You checked-check-checked right down your list and then… you got the email.

We had snagged our band at Josh’s company Christmas party. A local cover band that does everything from hip hop to pop to the occasional oldie-but-goodie, and does it all really well, we were impressed. Josh hopped up on stage and confirmed them that night. We emailed back and forth, got the PayPal info last week, and set about putting the $$ aside for the deposit.

And then Thursday night my little bridal world shattered. I came home from work and played with my pup for a while. Then I went into the bedroom to play with kittie. I took a few business calls and a few more sips of wine, massaged my feet, and counted down the minutes till Josh would call from downstairs to pick me up for dinner with my soon-to-be mommy-in-law (visiting) in tow.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Josh, asking me to call him. I love this guy, and I love talking to him, but anytime he asks me to call him, it’s always bad news.

“Hi. What’s going on?”
“Um. Did you see the email?”
“No. What email?”
“It’s from the band…”

And there it was. Apparently, we had miscommunicated about the due date for the deposit and some other bitchy bride-to-be had stolen my amazing band right out from under my freshly powdered nose. A generally sweet person who tries her very best to treat everyone with kindness and respect, I was shocked, saddened and thoroughly pissed. I set about to write my first-ever Bridezilla-esque email, complete with that dreaded phrase, “I’m not mad, just very disappointed.”

It turns out, I found, that when you state your thought process cohesively and respectfully, make it clear that you are hurt and not angry (even if you are really FREAKING angry!), you might just get your way. Twenty-four hours later the band decided to honor our verbal agreement and refer the other bride to their sister band, pending an immediate deposit. Deposit was made and we are back in the chips.

Even though I cried (a lot) on the night of the email, in retrospect I realize this was only a mere blip. As my lash girl told me months ago, there will be things that happen when you’re planning a wedding and you just have to keep moving past them. This one worked out the way we wanted it to, but even if it hadn’t, I’m sure a solution would have surfaced.

Fellow brides, know this: everything can be solved with a few deep breaths, a stern yet sensitive email, and a fiance who always has your back.