Thursday, February 23, 2012

Location, Location, Location

If making movies was as hard to do as finding a wedding venue, the last thing you would have seen on the big screen is some grainy footage Spielberg shot as a 7-year old.  Seriously.  It was absolutely easier to create the world of Middle-Earth in a cow pasture in New Zealand than it is to find a place to hold a party in Los Angeles that charges less than $4k to walk in the door.  This isn't Sparta.  THIS. IS. MADNESS!

I began the hunt for locations a few weeks ago.  Since my birthday's the 17th, I want to have my BFFW on Saturday, December 15th.  Which is not only a popular night but also smack dab in the middle of holiday season so I'm facing extra competition for spots.  But I figure I'm starting plenty early so how hard could it be?  So, so wrong.  It's honestly sad how delusional I was.  I'd weep for the loss of my innocence if I wasn't so busy weeping over the fact that I was told by one location that their $50 a person price for pasta, green salad and water was "really quite reasonable compared to other locations".  The last time I went to the grocery store, boxes of noodles were on sale for a buck a box.  I flunked algebra in high school but I do think I'm doing the math correctly here and there is no way on this green earth that tap water, a head of iceberg and 50 cents worth of noodles somehow adds up to FIFTY dollars a person.  Someone bust out a calculator and run the numbers to confirm.

I feel like Tommie Lee Jones in The Fugitive except instead of checking every farmhouse, henhouse, doghouse, etc. I'm checking every Mason lodge, VFW hall and structure vaguely resembling four walls and a roof in a 3 state radius.  If I find one that charges no rental fee it's because they have the magical $50 pasta.  If I find one with a low fee that lets me bring in my own catering / alcohol it's because they close at 9pm (I mean even in middle school I could stay up past 9pm! Yes that was only on Fridays, and only because Miami Vice was on, but you see my point).  If I find one with a reasonable per head price (and by "reasonable" I of course mean that unless the menu is composed entirely of ingredients not found on this planet there is no way to justify that price) they want $600 - 1000 AN HOUR for the pleasure of their company.  If I were really getting married that $59 special at the Elvis Chapel of Love would be looking super good right now.

So the hunt continues.  But everyone should be prepared to fly to Middle-Earth if I can't lock something down soon.


Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Perfect.


You know. Simple. Tasteful. Elegant. With a deeper (ahem) message.

Everything a BFFW should be.

It Takes A Village

You know what the best part about getting fake married is?  You find out who loves you.

I always knew I had great friends.  I've got a baby sister and a brother-in-law who would walk through fire for me (and I for them).  I've got a dozen nieces and nephews, biological and non, who make me the happiest Auntie in the world by just smiling at me.  I never thought I wasn't loved just because I didn't have a lover.

But nothing prepared me for the outpouring of support when I told everyone my plans for my BFFW.  I've got friends scouring the internet day and night for the perfect doilies, offering to make calls to vendors, brainstorming venues, pulling in favors to get me cut-rate alcohol.  Folks are so giddy with excitement for me I even had one friend say "I hated every second of planning my wedding.  But I can NOT wait to plan yours!".    Love comes in many forms.  For me it didn't come in the shape of a husband but as friends who are willing to help me dye dozens of roses in the team colors of the Seattle Seahawks.

So in that spirit I open the blog up to them.  You'll see posts from my bridesmaids (or Broad's Maids as we've taken to calling them) and other folks.  I don't need to marry in to someone else's family.  I already have a massive extended one of my own, made up of the people who love and support me day in and day out, regardless of genetic ties.  And let me tell you, that's a mighty fine thing.




It Costs How Much?!?!

It's not exactly breaking news that weddings are expensive.  But there's a huge difference between hearing a thing and sort of believing it's true, and living a thing and finding out people were actually down selling it a bit.

Holy crap I had no idea.

Here's the deal.  I'm throwing my own wedding but I'm not getting married.  The flaw in this plan is that there isn't another sucker who's just as invested as me in not looking stupid in front of their friends and family.  It's just me.  No future in-laws who want to kick in for the cake, no groom who will be paying for half the hors d'oeuvres and, weirdly, no parents who gush "Ohhhhh, our little girl is getting fake married.  I've ALWAYS dreamed of this day and can't wait to pay for half!".

So it'll be me footing the entire bill.  Which is a bit cuckoo for cocoa puffs considering how much these things cost.  And that it's basically just a big birthday party.  And I'm not actually getting married.  So basically now if I ever do get married I'll be going to Vegas and getting the $59 special at the Elvis Chapel of Love.

But I guess that's the upside of being single and childless - I can spend my money any damn way I please.  Hooray for First World Problems!

Before I go further let me issue the caveat that I fully recognize how silly it is to spend any money on a wedding, particularly a fake one, when there are people worrying about how to keep a roof over their heads and feed their kids.  There is a lot of awful in the world, more than any of us can even conceive.  And I try to do what I can to help, as many of us do.  But I also firmly believe that I have one life to live.  Yes I want the testament of my life to be that I left the world a better place than I found it, that I made a difference in people's lives.  But I also want people to say I lived a life of joy.  So sometimes you have to take a moment for yourself and do something you've always wanted to do.  And for me it's going to be this one day when the people I love and cherish most in this world come together to eat good food, drink champagne and spend a few hours laughing at my baby pictures.  I'm going to carve out this moment of happy for myself ... and then go right back to worrying about the genocide in Sudan (and Congo and half a dozen other places.  Seriously, our world is messed up.).

The Knot is Evil

With as many weddings as I've been to you better believe I've been taking notes.  I can't remember where I last saw my car keys, but the thread count of the napkins at a wedding I went to 3 years ago is locked in my brain as though it were the secret for turning lead to gold.

So it comes as no shock that the second I made the decision to embrace turning 40 and use it as an excuse to throw myself the wedding of my dreams (instead of plan "A": Curl In To A Ball and Cry) the ideas came flooding in.  Within an hour I had a two page document outlining the theme, colors, favors, table settings, food, photography and decorations I wanted.  Two hours later I had my sister and 4 closest friends roped in as "bridesmaids".  I have four years worth of receipts I haven't filed, but throw in the promise of cake and a champagne toast and all of a sudden I'm more organized than the White House Press Secretary.  It turns out I'm not lazy ... I just lack proper motivation.

But even though I've been a meeting and event planner, ran a medical trade show and currently coordinate feature films for a living, I don't know the first thing about planning a wedding.  So of course I reached out to friends who've gotten married.  They sent me their old budgets and research, catering recommendations, etc.  All good and helpful stuff.  And then I turned to the internet.  Do you know what the very first search result is when you Google "planning a wedding"?  The Knot.  Everyone who's ever planned a wedding knows it.  Hell I'd wager even Kate stopped by and checked it out before she let the royal wedding planners take over.  EVERYONE uses it.  But what everyone fails to mention is that it is a black hole from which light, hope and common sense can not escape.  I innocently clicked on a thread about wedding themes and the next thing I knew four hours had gone by and all I'd really learned is Bitches Be Crazy.  I don't know what it is about planning that "special day" but it apparently drives most perfectly normal women insane.  I mean I have to assume they weren't all insane to begin with.  After all these are literate individuals who have managed to convince someone to marry them.  Basic odds would dictate that not every single one of them was institutionalized before visiting this website.  Right?

Please let me not turn in to one of them.

In many instances the crazy is justified.  It IS hard to stay within a budget while still trying to have an event that's special and unique.  But there just have to be more important things in this world to worry about than what one's flower selection says about them.  Here's hoping planning my BFFW (Big Fat Fake Wedding) won't drive me to the brink of madness ... or lead me to ever having to visit the swirling vortex of time-drainage that is The Knot ever again.






My Big Fat Fake Wedding

I own 7 dresses that I'll never wear again.  I've caught bouquets, danced dozens of chicken dances and been a joyful attendant at more weddings than a priest.  From booking strippers to making diaper cakes, I've shepherded my closest girl friends through the greatest days of their lives as they've gotten married and started families.  And I was happy to do so.  But now it's my turn.

The only glitch is I haven't actually found someone to marry.

But why should a little thing like that stop me from having my dream wedding?  It shouldn't!  And it's not going to.  So in honor of my upcoming 40th birthday, I'm throwing My Big Fat Fake Wedding.  I don't know if I'll eventually meet my Prince Charming, but I do know he's gonna miss one hell of a party!