'Till Marriage Do Us Part...July 16, 1999

'Till Marriage Do Us Part...July 16, 1999

I thought, innocently enough, that we could stave it off for just a few more weeks. I was hoping amongst hope, praying to the spirits with every breath, pleading to any divine entity that was par chance tuned in...

"Please...let it not be so!"

It is so.

Oh, how it is so.

Now, just where did I put that acetaminophen and codeine?

"How I love the Goddess so...". If I say this affirmation repeatedly, perhaps I will be able to find the shreds of sanity that have been scattered hither and yon since the dress episode yesterday. I should have know this issue was the commencement. It was as clear a sign as a bolt of lightning impinging my chest. Clearly, denial is not just a river in Egypt. It is an ineffectual coping strategy that prevented me from recognizing the beginning of...

Bridal Wedding Anxiety

In anticipation of a forthcoming telephone conversation later this evening, the final in a series of telephone conversations I have had with my betrothed today (with every other sentence being to the effect of "It will be okay sweetie...I love you...You know how you get migraines when you are stressed"), this Prince Charming is donning his suit of armour, and trading in his trusty steed for something with 200 times the horse power. A speedy get away may be of necessity, even taking into consideration my 1000 mile head start. For as much as I dearly love my dearest dear, I cannot travel down Anxiety Avenue with her, where green always means stop, yellow means full speed ahead, and you get sent to jail for passing "Go". It gives me a migraine.

Alas, today's nuptual neuroses began first thing this morning, with an email from my sister, Quincey, informing me that the hotel where we have booked the ceremony and reception has gone into receivership. I called them immediately only to ascertain that they are only going through a corporate restructuring, and that things are to proceed as planned, no worries. Apparently, the woman on the other end of the phone has never witnessed a Goddess have an anxiety attack; crows flock in the hundreds, rivers run red, petals turn ebony, animals hibernate, and most important of all...

...it is always all my fault.

So, not wanting one single solitary scrap of information to be witheld from H.R.H., more as a form of self care than anything else, I expeditiously explained about the receivership, but that it was business as usual with recpect to our planning. I also had to divulge that this particular hotel had no more rooms available for us to book for potential out of town guests, something I was explicitly asked to look into poste haste. Who knew, back in those distant days of fall '98, when the sunsets were a plethora of hues, yellow, orange, bronze, red, violet, and upstaged only by the colours of the changing foliage, that The Goddess and I would plan our wedding the same weekend as the most important, largest, most anticipated annual music festival of the season. Not only did our particular hotel not have rooms available, few others did as well. To her dismay, I just had to chuckle at the idea of putting Aunt Ethyl up in a motel that sported red neon everywhere, and would want to know just how many hours she'd be taking up residence, and "would she need clean bedding on the hour?", which of course would cost extr-ee. Nevertheless, I was able to book ten rooms in one of the most posh hotels in town, and am glad that, at least on this occasion, her family's financial status will actually mean something to me: less stress.

Values be damned, Highlands is getting married.

So...let's tally things so far:
- the dress doesn't fit,
- there may not be any place to have our wedding,
- which is a good thing because there's no place for the guests to stay anyway.

Regardless of how many times I tried to reassure The Goddess that everything is going to work out, she'll be devine, the hotel will be a haven, the guests will be lodged, she has taken this and gone running full speed ahead down Anxiety Avenue. She is not being chased by anxieties while running, she is chasing after them. I know, I know, this is common, it happens to everyone...I have heard it all. However, how many grooms have actually have their brides having anxiety simply because they felt it was their right as "The Bride" to do so?

I love The Goddess...I love The Goddess...I love The Goddess...

In my frustration, earlier this evening, I became possessed by demons and just had to feed into her reverence. I figured, if she is going to drag me down this path kicking and screaming, if my attempts to soothe the savage bride-beast are futile, I may as well have a little fun. I told her that in going to order the tux rentals today, I was told it was too late to place an order in light of our wedding date.

I very, very quickly recanted. I enjoyed no retaliation whatsoever. If she were here, I would be nothing more than gristle. This is one of the very few times I am happy there are 1000 miles betwixt us. Least of all I am "not helping, not taking her situation seriously, and not taking into consideration her feelings". When, in the last two days, did she consider mine?

To top things off just right, The Goddess is hormonal. Yes, it is getting close to that time. So, I am submitting a new disorder to mental health practitioners worldwide:

PMS squared (I cannot find a superscript right now, so the text will just have to do.)

That's right, PMS squared. Pre Marital-Pre Menstural Syndrome. I am currently researching possible meds, for me that is.

Oh, how I do love you, my Goddess.

...Blessed Be