10 Days ‘Til 10 Years: I Don’t Want to Get Married

On July 27, Max and I will celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. I’ve decided to post something new everyday about us. Because it’s my blog, and I can. 

You may recall that, when he proposed, I asked Max if he wanted to get married. He replied that he didn’t want to get married, but he wanted to be married.

Why the difference?

Because we had seen many friends and family members get married and go through the special stress that is wedding planning.

For us, it started with the guest list. Our original list had 302 people on it. We had to pare that down. I think we got it down to 194. Even so, that was more than almost any venue in New Hampshire could hold. We started looking in Rhode Island. (We couldn’t get married in Massachusetts because they required a blood test, and I just wasn’t having that.)

Good fortune arrived when we met with Melanie Bibbo of Blissful Beginnings. Melanie was (and still is) a wedding planner. She was amazing! She found us our ceremony site, the Shaker Inn on Lake Mascoma in New Hampshire. We found it the weekend after September 11, 2001. My dad was with us.

Choosing the wedding party was difficult too. I don’t make friends easily, but when I do, I keep them. I had about 10 people on the list, and Max and I decided we could each only have 5. Even after we decided, there was drama. One of the groomsmen fell off the planet. The bridesmaids had a kind of rift between the haves and have nots (money). Chadwick’s ran out of the dresses I had chosen ($99) and I spent 45 minutes on hold while I told someone to check the warehouse because “there is always one more dress.” Lo and behold, there was. It was only one size off, so I had it sent to the appropriate bridesmaid.

I got my first migraine since high school when discussing the menu with the Shaker Inn staff. Somehow, they had decided we were having turkey and roast beef sandwiches. For dinner. For 194 people. Basically, they had turned my “simple, but elegant” buffet dinner into a picnic. It was all bad. Fortunately, we cleared things up. I remember going into work on Monday and seeking out one of my co-workers who suffered from chronic migraines. I told her that I hadn’t had a migraine since high school until that weekend, and now that I remembered what they were like, I was truly sorry for what she had to go through. (Some people were dismissive of her health concerns. I never was, but it’s different to tell someone that you know what they’re going through.) She was very appreciative.

The funniest stressful part was the wedding dreams. I had wedding dreams almost every night. My favorite was this:

I was wandering around the Shaker Inn in my dress but without my hair and makeup done. The servers were serving pork at the buffet when they were supposed to be serving turkey. I had to go to the kitchen, where my friend Kellie was cooking. I went out to the tent. My grandfather was walking through the reception in a tuxedo jacket with tails, without pants. Then I looked around, and all of the men were in jackets and ties, but no pants.

Yeah… I was a little nuts.

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