Saturday, May 9, 2009

Love Under the Stairs


I have to confess that living on the cheap has become a matter of pride with me. I’ve always been thrilled to not be a slave to the Frappuccino’d machinations of Starbuck’s. I re-use plastic grocery bags as garbage can liners, and while I use disposable diapers, I don’t pony up the money for the Huggies or Pampers, but instead clad my children’s dimpled little butt cheeks in the store brands of Target and ShopKo. The “How to Live Frugally” articles are read through carefully, and their suggestions are often met with a “...but I’m already doing that!”

Sadly, this mindset is not blending too well with the planning of the upcoming nuptials.
I’m less-than-thrilled that it’s 75 bucks for the local government to grant me a marriage license. It took the clerk two minutes to type the papers up; considering what she typed, that license ran about 50 cents per keystroke. Of course, she did give Killian two squirts of the antibacterial hand sanitizer that The Small Thing finds so interesting. (It’s cold! It’s wet! It’s neat!) With the way the bidding process for government supplies works, that hand sanitizer very well could have cost $37.50 per squirt.

I’m not having to pay for a church or a reception hall, thanks to my best friend’s parents willingness to have their house invaded, their backyard turned into a wedding chapel, and their game room used for a reception hall. Shawn and I could have been married at the county clerk’s office, but I saw a wedding take place there while we were picking up the license, and even my non-sentimental heart cringed at getting married under a stairwell with the utility closet door as a backdrop.

The wedding dress acquisition proved for some entertainment. Craigslist was a gigantic fail, as that website seems to be overrun with people who missed the day in school when “cheap” was defined. $450? Yes, ma’am, I recognize that you paid $750 for the dress, but that was ten years ago, and no, that enormous stain from the cake smash your ex performed against your wishes is probably not going to come out no matter how good the dry cleaner is. I hit up the secondhand stores, but apparently the only people who donate wedding dresses are either a size 2 or they got married in 1973. My bacon was saved by a local dress shop owner, who chose to have her moving sale the week I shopped for dresses. I even found two I liked, but the one left hanging on the rack made me look like a Coke ad, where the lady is dressed like it’s 1902 and she’s dangerously close to spilling not her soda, but her breasts. It’s hard to pull off bride-like innocence when your cleavage is erupting like Mt. Vesuvius. The victor cost a whopping 40 dollars, and I WILL bring that up in 30 years when I’m trying to foist the dress off to Killian or Adria for their wedding.

We originally had a grand total of 13 people for this wedding, but caved to the pressure of parents and invited siblings as well. We’ve now got around 30 people (where did all of them COME FROM!?), and ohcrap they should all be fed. Double up the tri-tip and chicken boob plans, and pray we don’t run out of propane. ...-pane, -pane, -pagne, CHAMPAGNE! Awww, dangit! Even if we go with Andre for all, and four glasses per bottle, that’s still eight bottles of bubbly to buy. Bubbly, bubbly, bubbles, BUBBLES! Really should buy some bubbles to keep the kids occupied, but don’t get the little bottles they sell as wedding party favors because those suck. Party favors, party favors, party favors, PARTY FAVORS!? Awww, hell. I should give some sort of memento to the guests. Let’s see, no Jordan almonds as those are a dentist’s wet dream. Too little time to splurge for M&Ms with our name on ‘em. Uhhhh, howzabout a little tea candle in a glass with some sand and seashells? We’ll use the sister-in-law’s Cricut to do some fancy-dancy tags and tie ‘em up with ribbon. Ribbons? Yeah, we should get some to dangle oh-so-fetchingly from the arch. Arch? Shitfire, I need an arch. I wonder what I ever did with the one that was in the front yard by the roses?

Oh, yeah.

The dogs knocked it over and dismantled it during a particularly high-spirited game of what-can-we-wreck-today. Stupid ass dogs, and now I should find an arch. At least flowers aren’t a monetary concern, as I’ve got roses up the hoo-hah around my house, and I’m more than willing to strip my bushes bare. I’ll take it as a sign that even Mother Nature approves of this wedding, as my Sterling Silver rose bush bloomed this year for the first time in three years. Won’t those petals look pretty scattered over the top of the wedding cake? Cake, cake, cake, OH CRAP! I need to buy a wedding cake!

Y’know, a wedding under the stairs may be all I’ve ever hoped for...

4 comments:

ErikaRobin said...

Hilarious! I remember the planning days and the craziness that went with them. It's all going to be fine. If he shows up, you show up and the ordained shows up, it's all good.

javamama said...

It's not called cheap. It's called spend-resistant. And you're welcome, because I invented the concept. One of these days I'll blog about my wedding.

Fistandantalus said...

There's still time to whomp up 30 "I Survived Bren And Shawn's Wedding And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt" shirts

Rebeccalynn_dj said...

I think you are to be admired for your your frugalness.