Since we got engaged just over a month ago we haven't done much besides bulk buy the wedding mags and tell a succession of excited people our news over champagne. The one thing we've thought about, and, as everyone keeps telling us, need to think about immediately, is the venue.
But I'm starting to wonder if I've gone a little loopy. I've already fixed up appointments with eight different venues, and all for just two January weekends. Am I going to turn into one of those brides who can only think about the wedding and can't possibly see anyone at the weekend because they're looking at venues/flowers/dresses/favours? And am I setting myself up for a fall looking at so many venues when I can only choose one?
When it comes to checking out possible places to get married, how many venues is too many?
Wednesday, 30 December 2009
Monday, 28 December 2009
The announcement
In this day and age is there anything more final that the Facebook announcement? Having told everyone who is really important to us face to face and been in touch with as many people as possible by phone and email, today it was finally time to unveil our news to the world - it was time to change our Facebook relationship statuses.
Ever since the dawn of Facebook I've been "in a relationship" so this was big news - something my wall confirms with its multitude of congratulations posts from a wide range of people I know, sort of know or merely went to school with. But now I'm faced with some weird and oh-so-21st-century issues. Since it's fallen off the newsfeed do I repost something similar so those who haven't checked Facebook since yesterday will still see our news? Do I need to respond to the people who've sent messages, or only the ones which are genuinely heartfelt and say more than just "congrats"? And, most importantly, why do I care if people I haven't seen for ten years know I'm getting married?
Have I gone completely mad?!
Ever since the dawn of Facebook I've been "in a relationship" so this was big news - something my wall confirms with its multitude of congratulations posts from a wide range of people I know, sort of know or merely went to school with. But now I'm faced with some weird and oh-so-21st-century issues. Since it's fallen off the newsfeed do I repost something similar so those who haven't checked Facebook since yesterday will still see our news? Do I need to respond to the people who've sent messages, or only the ones which are genuinely heartfelt and say more than just "congrats"? And, most importantly, why do I care if people I haven't seen for ten years know I'm getting married?
Have I gone completely mad?!
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Just in time for Christmas
For the past three days I've been waiting with bated breath for the phone to ring and Diana to say my engagement ring is ready to collect. But nothing has happened, besides me nagging Doug about whether he's heard anything.
But this morning I started one of those conversations only long-term, bed-sharing couples have, the ones which begin with "I had the weirdest dream...", and began to regale Doug with all the details of how I dreamed the ring was wrong, so wrong in fact that it was actually a plastic bracelet! Having heard enough of my deranged ramblings he then leaned over, rustled around for a while in the pile of mess he calls a bedside table and produced the most perfect ring in the world.
Doug loves a joke and as it turns out he had known for days that it would be ready for Christmas and had picked it up last night while I was out drinking Islington dry in festive spirit with one of my bridesmaids. It's going to be a very merry Christmas...!
But this morning I started one of those conversations only long-term, bed-sharing couples have, the ones which begin with "I had the weirdest dream...", and began to regale Doug with all the details of how I dreamed the ring was wrong, so wrong in fact that it was actually a plastic bracelet! Having heard enough of my deranged ramblings he then leaned over, rustled around for a while in the pile of mess he calls a bedside table and produced the most perfect ring in the world.
Doug loves a joke and as it turns out he had known for days that it would be ready for Christmas and had picked it up last night while I was out drinking Islington dry in festive spirit with one of my bridesmaids. It's going to be a very merry Christmas...!
Sunday, 20 December 2009
The ring
Since my fiance popped the big question almost a month ago I've had a succession of not-quite-right rings adorning my left hand, one of which actually broke, leaving me panicing about "signs" and bad luck. But yesterday we finally got around to heading out to chose the final, big-budget version, an upgrade to my current Accessorise rock, THE ring itself.
My fiance's mum is a bastion of useful local knowledge and she didn't let us down on this one, sending us to a friend of hers who deals in diamonds as a "hobby". Diana was exactly what we expected, loud, ebullient and keen to show off a succession of the too-big and too-bling. I've had a clear as carat picture of my ideal ring in my head for some time now and it wasn't any of these. I explained what I wanted to Diana and despite the word "plain" appearing to pain her, she thankfully caught on that what I had in mind was basically one big hunk of diamond with nothing to detract or distract from it.
Fortunately Diana knew the perfect diamond and was immediately on the phone getting hold of it; unfortunately said diamond is currently set as a pendant in a bezel setting. This means that it has a thick band of white gold around it and I can only really guess at what it will look like as a ring. With my limited diamond knowledge I examined it, pretending to know what I was looking at through the magnifying eye-glass and declared that I think it's going to be perfect. Here's hoping...
My fiance's mum is a bastion of useful local knowledge and she didn't let us down on this one, sending us to a friend of hers who deals in diamonds as a "hobby". Diana was exactly what we expected, loud, ebullient and keen to show off a succession of the too-big and too-bling. I've had a clear as carat picture of my ideal ring in my head for some time now and it wasn't any of these. I explained what I wanted to Diana and despite the word "plain" appearing to pain her, she thankfully caught on that what I had in mind was basically one big hunk of diamond with nothing to detract or distract from it.
Fortunately Diana knew the perfect diamond and was immediately on the phone getting hold of it; unfortunately said diamond is currently set as a pendant in a bezel setting. This means that it has a thick band of white gold around it and I can only really guess at what it will look like as a ring. With my limited diamond knowledge I examined it, pretending to know what I was looking at through the magnifying eye-glass and declared that I think it's going to be perfect. Here's hoping...
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Who cares about Christmas?
Christmas is now officially "next week" and consequently everyone I know is currently bulk buying the mince pies and wrapping paper in a heady festive glow and trying to get me to make New Years Eve plans. But this year I'm afraid it's all just leaving me a bit cold.
I've never been a big fan of Christmas. Too much being trapped in the house with the family is generally involved and I'd rather be basking on a beach than wrapped up in a cosy scarf watching the snow fall.
Don't get me wrong though, I'm no Scrooge. Every year all our friends come round for a roast, mulled wine and games around the tree and I get swept up in party season with the best of them (my facebook photos can attest to that). The family come to me more or less every year for the entire festive season and I always but always buy far more food and presents than are strictly necessary.
But this year I just can't find that festive spirit. I think it must be hiding behind that pile of wedding magazines or possibly has been blinded by the glow of my soon-to-be-bought engagement ring. Because getting married really is more exciting than Christmas isn't it? Is it?
I've never been a big fan of Christmas. Too much being trapped in the house with the family is generally involved and I'd rather be basking on a beach than wrapped up in a cosy scarf watching the snow fall.
Don't get me wrong though, I'm no Scrooge. Every year all our friends come round for a roast, mulled wine and games around the tree and I get swept up in party season with the best of them (my facebook photos can attest to that). The family come to me more or less every year for the entire festive season and I always but always buy far more food and presents than are strictly necessary.
But this year I just can't find that festive spirit. I think it must be hiding behind that pile of wedding magazines or possibly has been blinded by the glow of my soon-to-be-bought engagement ring. Because getting married really is more exciting than Christmas isn't it? Is it?
Monday, 14 December 2009
The comedown
Since the proposal two weeks ago I've been floating along in a bubble, grinning like an idiot and popping champagne corks with excited family and friends. But this weekend that lovely, shiny bubble was suddenly burst, and rather violently too.
Nothing to worry about - just a nasty fight in our local curry house which we were nothing to do with and yet ended with Doug (that's my husband-to-be) getting a shard of glass to the arm - but nonetheless an episode which included blood-stained clothing, an ambulance ride and a four-hour wait in our local A&E. And all on a night when we were supposed to be celebrating our newly-unveiled engagement with one of the bridesmaids and an usher.
All ended happily but I can't shake the feeling of doom this all caused. For just a few moments a chink opened onto a world without Doug, a world of newspaper headlines and unutterable despair. There's nothing like a small drama to wake up your deepest feelings and until faced squarely with the possibility of Doug being seriously injured or worse, I'm not sure I truly realised how much I love him.
In a weird way this Casualty-worthy episode has cemented our engagement and now more than ever I can't wait to be a Mrs. Let's just hope we can complete the rest of our engagement announcements without those flashing blue lights!
Nothing to worry about - just a nasty fight in our local curry house which we were nothing to do with and yet ended with Doug (that's my husband-to-be) getting a shard of glass to the arm - but nonetheless an episode which included blood-stained clothing, an ambulance ride and a four-hour wait in our local A&E. And all on a night when we were supposed to be celebrating our newly-unveiled engagement with one of the bridesmaids and an usher.
All ended happily but I can't shake the feeling of doom this all caused. For just a few moments a chink opened onto a world without Doug, a world of newspaper headlines and unutterable despair. There's nothing like a small drama to wake up your deepest feelings and until faced squarely with the possibility of Doug being seriously injured or worse, I'm not sure I truly realised how much I love him.
In a weird way this Casualty-worthy episode has cemented our engagement and now more than ever I can't wait to be a Mrs. Let's just hope we can complete the rest of our engagement announcements without those flashing blue lights!
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Sharing the big news
So the time has come to tell our nearest and dearest that we're engaged. In my head this has always been the most exciting part, replete with squeals of joy, teary hugs and the popping corks of numerous champagne bottles.
But what if the response you get is more deflated and nonplussed than you expected? What if my mum says "That's nice dear. Ooh, did I tell you about auntie Marge's latest doctor's appointment?" or my best friend can only muster "Great news. I almost forgot, did I show you my new shoes?"
Fortunately, nobody has reacted in such a nonplussed way (so far!) but still, it's difficult to accept that to noone is this news more exciting than me. My friends are thrilled for us but they don't want to hear about our church v civil ceremony dilemma, our tooing and frooing about possible colour schemes or whether we should have the chicken or the fish. I'm scared that after the initial buzz (and champagne hangover) has worn off that I will be cast as a wedding bore, someone who can speak of nothing else but the big day and can't hold a conversation about anything without dropping the phrase "it's like with the wedding..." into it.
Am I right to be nervous? Do I need to befriend some other brides-to-be so I can chinwag away about centrepieces, veils and seatcovers to my heart's content? Do I need to confine wedding chat to my husband-to-be only? Or should I let it all hang out with my friends and hope they don't disown me before the big day?
But what if the response you get is more deflated and nonplussed than you expected? What if my mum says "That's nice dear. Ooh, did I tell you about auntie Marge's latest doctor's appointment?" or my best friend can only muster "Great news. I almost forgot, did I show you my new shoes?"
Fortunately, nobody has reacted in such a nonplussed way (so far!) but still, it's difficult to accept that to noone is this news more exciting than me. My friends are thrilled for us but they don't want to hear about our church v civil ceremony dilemma, our tooing and frooing about possible colour schemes or whether we should have the chicken or the fish. I'm scared that after the initial buzz (and champagne hangover) has worn off that I will be cast as a wedding bore, someone who can speak of nothing else but the big day and can't hold a conversation about anything without dropping the phrase "it's like with the wedding..." into it.
Am I right to be nervous? Do I need to befriend some other brides-to-be so I can chinwag away about centrepieces, veils and seatcovers to my heart's content? Do I need to confine wedding chat to my husband-to-be only? Or should I let it all hang out with my friends and hope they don't disown me before the big day?
Friday, 11 December 2009
The proposal
I just got engaged. Cue party poppers, cheesy grins and oh-so-many bottles of champagne. Yes, I'm loving it, but I'm also nervous, distracted and just a little bit terrified.
My boyfriend of eight years proposed on holiday in Cuba. We were on the rooftop terrace of the Ambos Mundos hotel in Havana when he made me turn around "for a photo" before dropping down on one knee and asking me the question I've imagined hearing for, oh, almost every single one of those eight long years.
I was totally taken aback. Yes, I've been waiting for this since university ended and real life began but I wasn't expecting it - and I certainly wasn't prepared for it. My unfortunate natural response was a tearily confused "are you serious?" and a disconcerting feeling that this was somehow an anticlimax.
Then the joy set in. I said yes (of course), put on the diamonds and let my shaking boyfriend sit down and relax for what I imagine was the first time in months. I danced through the streets of Havana, drank far too many mojitos and woke up the next morning wondering if it had all been a dream.
Don't get me wrong, I'm excitedly, deliriously, unbelievably happy to be engaged. But once it's happened, that's it isn't it? No more wondering when and how it might happen, spending days at your desk dreaming up perfect chickflick-worthy scenarios... reality bites. My boyfriend genuinely could not have found a better time, place or way to propose, it was perfect. But I'm itching for it to happen again, which means the fact that it already has is just that tiniest, faintest bit depressing. Is that terrible?
My boyfriend of eight years proposed on holiday in Cuba. We were on the rooftop terrace of the Ambos Mundos hotel in Havana when he made me turn around "for a photo" before dropping down on one knee and asking me the question I've imagined hearing for, oh, almost every single one of those eight long years.
I was totally taken aback. Yes, I've been waiting for this since university ended and real life began but I wasn't expecting it - and I certainly wasn't prepared for it. My unfortunate natural response was a tearily confused "are you serious?" and a disconcerting feeling that this was somehow an anticlimax.
Then the joy set in. I said yes (of course), put on the diamonds and let my shaking boyfriend sit down and relax for what I imagine was the first time in months. I danced through the streets of Havana, drank far too many mojitos and woke up the next morning wondering if it had all been a dream.
Don't get me wrong, I'm excitedly, deliriously, unbelievably happy to be engaged. But once it's happened, that's it isn't it? No more wondering when and how it might happen, spending days at your desk dreaming up perfect chickflick-worthy scenarios... reality bites. My boyfriend genuinely could not have found a better time, place or way to propose, it was perfect. But I'm itching for it to happen again, which means the fact that it already has is just that tiniest, faintest bit depressing. Is that terrible?
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