Wedding part 2 – one week countdown – overnight celebrity…

“The lead up to your wedding is like becoming an overnight celebrity, and all of a sudden, everyone wants you to do an appearance at their dinner table.”

The fame…

I’m not an attention seeker. Despite the plethora of in-home ballet recitals, plays, and karaoke shows that I subjected my parents to in my early days, I avoid the spotlight. Unless, that is, I am fuelled by a few too many alcoholic beverages and momentarily decide it is a stroke of genius to leap onto the nearest table and belt out ‘the summer of 69’ or the like.

And so, it follows, that I met someone else that is as understated as me. We both wrote on a piece of paper what we wanted in a wedding. The main priorities were that it had to be at a beach and it had to be simple. Every time I had a decision to make, I checked against our original goals and we have kept to them.

We touched down in our home country, New Zealand and madness ensued. We zigzagged across the city from appointment to last minute shopping to the dry cleaning shop. Errands all day long. The lead up to your wedding is like becoming an overnight celebrity, and all of a sudden, everyone wants you to do an appearance at their dinner table, to be their guest, they encircle you, and sometimes it can be hard to cut yourselves into enough pieces to go around.

Our game plan…

So, you want to know the details of our wedding? You and everyone on the guest list. If you have a small guest list then your options of the unconventional are limited only by your imagination. We will marry on a public reserve by the sea and then have a reception at a rented holiday home.  Mum is bringing flowers from her garden; my father in law to be is supplying the old preserving jars which we will put candles in. My mother in law is bringing a bunch of fairy lights. The cake is one simple tier and one simple cake stand; with no royal icing in sight. Dinner is a kiwi roast coming from the local club.

I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been asked whether we have organised the grooms outfit. I am pleased to inform you that we went out precisely one week before the big day and purchased everything head to toe. I did have a bit of fun playing it up and explaining time after time that it was fine, because he had a tie and it was going to look great with just underwear, much to their horror.

Reality TV potential…

I could probably fill a tv show with wedding drama. The night before my wedding, I had to pop out to the car for something I’d forgotten. Unable to find it, I began the laborious climb up the winding stairs to our apartment. After the long day I had had, half way up the stairs felt like the full length and I trudged into the apartment exhausted and full of a list of things to do before tomorrow. That’s odd, I thought I left the lights on. I flicked the switch and ferreted into my bag and find a pen. What’s that?  I wondered. The TV is on? My fiancee was watching something on the computer a few minutes ago. God, it’s loud. “Why is the TV so loud? Turn it down, it’s late and you’ll wake the neighbours”. No reply. “For god’s sake, why aren’t you listening to me?” I stormed over, angry by this stage, to give him a piece of my frazzled mind.

Two bemused faces were staring back at me from under the covers. Realisation hit me and I wasn’t in our penthouse apartment at all, I was in fact at – the neighbours! I had just turned the lights on, yelled at them and then stood, stuck, staring at them in their bed. No one spoke. Then I realised I had to get out, and quickly. With a trail of words behind me; namely “sorry” and “Oh my God”; my legs took me out the door. Before exiting, I kindly turned the lights off for them again and let them have the TV as loud as they liked. It was the least I could do.

The shame…

Up to the top floor and into my own apartment I stood in the doorway in shock. Upon hearing about my stupidity, my FH (Future Husband if you didn’t read part 1 wedding blog) pissed himself with laughter and was pleased to have such a good story to tell the next day. Never mind his FW (Future Wife) sitting on the floor traumatised by her own actions. A note was duly slipped under the neighbour’s door profusely apologising (I actually got one back saying it was their fault for not locking the door). I was going to explain that I was a strung out bride-to-be but there really is no excuse for what I had just done. Also, the less they knew about me, the better. I signed anonymous. Better I didn’t drag my new last name through the mud before I got it.

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