A year ago when my then-boyfriend asked me if I would marry him, I readily accepted, naive of the floodgates we'd just let open. Ever since this little diamond solitaire has taken up residence on my left-hand ring finger, I've been thrown into a foreign world that I'm now struggling to assimilate into.
Evidently, I don't really look the part of a bride-to-be. It can take a while for someone to notice the sparkly little gem, but the inevitable "Are you engaged?" soon follows. I resist the urge to spit out a sarcastic response, and simply smile and nod.
I guess they can't be blamed for being surprised. I don't parade around in a tiara 24/7 like the girls on Bridezillas or carry around a huge wedding binder, eager show complete strangers pictures of the table centerpieces I've chosen.
On a scale of one to 10, with 10 being "princess" and one being "elope," I am probably a four. I've never worn a fancy satin dress, gotten a French manicure or had my hair done.
Even when I played with dolls as a little girl and Barbie and Ken got married, it was a simple process. Barbie liked Ken, and Ken liked Barbie. I would dress them up in wedding attire and make them smooch - which is tricky with plastic dolls, but they always managed well enough - and voila! Happily ever after, right?
I never thought I would get married fresh out of college at 22, but life works in mysterious ways and people make unexpected decisions. I don't have the picture-perfect day already planned out in my head. All you need is a dress, a preacher, and a cake, right?
Much to my pleasant surprise, I discovered my engagement ring doubled as a special little key, unlocking the secrets of the wedding planning world. Suddenly friends, family and even complete strangers are firing advice at me and saying that if I need their help, "Just let me know."
So where was this "help" when my sister and I moved into our apartment over two years ago? Or when my tire blew out on the thruway late at night?
I think it's ironic that up until this point in my life, everyone has stepped back and let me fumble along on my own. But somehow, when there is a wedding involved, everyone wants to share in the festivities.
"When is it? Where are you having it? How many bridesmaids? Are you going to write your own vows? Did you buy your dress yet? Where are you going on your honeymoon? I know a guy who knows a guy..."
Sometimes I feel like a victim of the Inquisition, but being able to accept advice from others is just one thing that I've learned to deal with since being engaged. Family members who can't even remember your boyfriend's name are more than willing to recommend a florist.
A second thing I've learned is if you want to have attendants other than siblings, you need to make sure to stay in touch with your old friends, and if you've already promised them the position, make sure you follow through. And because of my own pitiful long-distance friendship skills, I am still accepting applications for my third bridesmaid slot. .
My third bit of acquired wisdom - beware of married women who are more than willing to share the intimate details of married life. Ignorance is bliss, especially when it's family.
Number four is a big one - the bridal registry. It's tempting to load up the list when someone else is buying, but I guarantee you when the honeymoon is over the monogrammed towels will feel itchy, and you'll be having second thoughts about the $200 Kitchen Aid stand mixer.
The fifth thing I've learned is how to delegate, and who better to be your co-captain than your mother? I don't know if it's because I am the first daughter to take the matrimonial plunge, or because my mother didn't have a fancy dress, but she has graciously offered to do whatever she can to make my day special.
The most crucial bit of advice - make sure you feel comfortable with your future in-laws. Conflict can provide comedic material for "Meet the Parents," but holidays will be enjoyable if you get along well with your new family.
It's easy to lose focus amid a whirlwind of trendy color schemes, flowers, hors d'oeuvres and other fancy French words. But at the end of the day, it's all about starting a new life with that special someone.
A year ago when my then-boyfriend asked me if I would marry him, I readily accepted, naive of the floodgates we'd just let open. Ever since this little diamond solitaire has taken up residence on my left-hand ring finger, I've been thrown into a foreign world that I'm now struggling to assimilate into.
Evidently, I don't really look the part of a bride-to-be. It can take a while for someone to notice the sparkly little gem, but the inevitable "Are you engaged?" soon follows. I resist the urge to spit out a sarcastic response, and simply smile and nod.
I guess they can't be blamed for being surprised. I don't parade around in a tiara 24/7 like the girls on Bridezillas or carry around a huge wedding binder, eager show complete strangers pictures of the table centerpieces I've chosen.
On a scale of one to 10, with 10 being "princess" and one being "elope," I am probably a four. I've never worn a fancy satin dress, gotten a French manicure or had my hair done.
Even when I played with dolls as a little girl and Barbie and Ken got married, it was a simple process. Barbie liked Ken, and Ken liked Barbie. I would dress them up in wedding attire and make them smooch - which is tricky with plastic dolls, but they always managed well enough - and voila! Happily ever after, right?
I never thought I would get married fresh out of college at 22, but life works in mysterious ways and people make unexpected decisions. I don't have the picture-perfect day already planned out in my head. All you need is a dress, a preacher, and a cake, right?
Much to my pleasant surprise, I discovered my engagement ring doubled as a special little key, unlocking the secrets of the wedding planning world. Suddenly friends, family and even complete strangers are firing advice at me and saying that if I need their help, "Just let me know."
So where was this "help" when my sister and I moved into our apartment over two years ago? Or when my tire blew out on the thruway late at night?
I think it's ironic that up until this point in my life, everyone has stepped back and let me fumble along on my own. But somehow, when there is a wedding involved, everyone wants to share in the festivities.
"When is it? Where are you having it? How many bridesmaids? Are you going to write your own vows? Did you buy your dress yet? Where are you going on your honeymoon? I know a guy who knows a guy..."
Sometimes I feel like a victim of the Inquisition, but being able to accept advice from others is just one thing that I've learned to deal with since being engaged. Family members who can't even remember your boyfriend's name are more than willing to recommend a florist.
A second thing I've learned is if you want to have attendants other than siblings, you need to make sure to stay in touch with your old friends, and if you've already promised them the position, make sure you follow through. And because of my own pitiful long-distance friendship skills, I am still accepting applications for my third bridesmaid slot. .
My third bit of acquired wisdom - beware of married women who are more than willing to share the intimate details of married life. Ignorance is bliss, especially when it's family.
Number four is a big one - the bridal registry. It's tempting to load up the list when someone else is buying, but I guarantee you when the honeymoon is over the monogrammed towels will feel itchy, and you'll be having second thoughts about the $200 Kitchen Aid stand mixer.
The fifth thing I've learned is how to delegate, and who better to be your co-captain than your mother? I don't know if it's because I am the first daughter to take the matrimonial plunge, or because my mother didn't have a fancy dress, but she has graciously offered to do whatever she can to make my day special.
The most crucial bit of advice - make sure you feel comfortable with your future in-laws. Conflict can provide comedic material for "Meet the Parents," but holidays will be enjoyable if you get along well with your new family.
It's easy to lose focus amid a whirlwind of trendy color schemes, flowers, hors d'oeuvres and other fancy French words. But at the end of the day, it's all about starting a new life with that special someone.
(Insert "awwwwwww")
People call us crazy, and I can understand why. We're young, broke, and still making those important career-path decisions. On May 25 we're tying the knot, and if you think we're making a terrible mistake, too bad. It's our life.
People call us crazy, and I can understand why. We're young, broke, and still making those important career-path decisions. On May 25 we're tying the knot, and if you think we're making a terrible mistake, too bad. It's our life.
