Limits

I learned something new about myself recently: I don't have the mental capacity to attend a bridal show with an open mind. I vowed never to attend one, because I had an inking that this might be the case. However, upon getting a D.J. recommendation from my wedding coordinator, I was told I could get a sizable discount if I went to meet him at a bridal show and signed with him there. And so, this is how I found myself at a bridal show on a Sunday morning.

With mimosa in hand (God bless 'em), we walked around the different booths. I was soon conscious of the fact that I was wrinkling up my nose in judgment quite a bit, a realization I pointed out to Mark (I'd dragged him along for moral support). I felt bad, but every time I approached a new booth, I was greeted with yet more...tacky. SUV limo? Check. Doves in a white cage? Double check. Sparkles and tafetta and feathers? Check. Check. CHECK.

While passing the chair cover lady, we were dragged in to look at her brochure. When I told her where we were holding our reception, she informed us she had two options that fit the chairs available at our location. Pointing out the cheap-looking white option, I asked, "Is that satin?" Excitedly, she nodded her head and said, "Yes!" Without missing a beat, I said, "I don't like satin." Poor lady. Later, when we got into the car, Mark shared with me his version of this exchange:

Me: Is that satin?
Her: Why, yes, IT IS!...
Me: I HATE motherfuckin' satin!!!!

Tee hee...

By the time we found the DJ, I'd had enough. Approaching him and introducing myself, he cheerfully asked us if we were having a good time. Proving - once again - that I have no filter on my brain whatsoever, I responded by miming a twitch (with the head to the side and all) and saying, "Um, not really...these things make me twitch!" Yeah. I fucking rock.

After asking the very nice DJ some information, I was ready to sign on the dotted line. Before doing so, though, I inquired about the equipment set-up. He explained that they had quite the light show, which included roughly eight lights. I must have been blankly staring at him as I thought to myself how excessive that sounded, because he waited a few seconds and then said, "...but...we could always talk about narrowing that down a little?" to which I replied with a hearty, "OK! That'd be great!" It was at that point I finished off the white wine I'd just been handed, looked at Mark and said, "We've got to get out of here...I'm being a bitch."

Everyone? I swear I'm a nice person. And I love pretty things. Dressing up is always fun for me, and I even look forward to putting little bows on presents, etc. Yet, somehow I still can't let myself go "all out" with this wedding planning. I got goosebumps while attending our chapel recently, but I still can't get excited about linens and invitations. I guess I am who I am, but this process has certainly exposed some limitations I didn't know I had.

Pass me another piece of wedding cake, though, and we'll talk.