The Wedding Chronicles: Setting Intentions

(A dispatch during one entrepreneur's voyage to the altar...)

Since the BlogHer conference my body hasn't known how to react; its worked too hard by instinct for months. My partners and I agreed to take a few days for ourselves; but instead of winding down I was shorting out.

I promised myself that I would now focus on the wedding, which is only two months away. I feel a sense of grief--not over the dying of my singlehood but of the visions of fabulousness that are no longer possible. I have friends who transformed their bodies for their weddings. I tried on a dress a few days ago, noticing a few fat pockets; unless I amputate something in the next six weeks I'm going to look not much different in October. I've resolved to not eat as much until the reception. I probably won't have much more fundage to work with either. it pretty much is what it is. 

We nailed down what we needed to in June--the venue and the caterer. I figured in August I would bother with everything else. I wasn't paying attention to the length of the list of things I jotted down in moments of project management pique: wedding cake; liquor, music. These things seemed small at the time, but now they loomed large. So many freaking details.

This process has taught me a lot about how B-friend and I work against deadlines. I suspected he didn't take well to pressure last year, when our landlord sold our house, and we had to move in five weeks. Apparently such inconveniences as finding a new place to live provided too much multi-tasking for his comfort. And since, well, I have more of a taste for shelter it seemed to make sense that I be the person to take time out of her workday to find us new places to live. When I asked B-friend for his help with planning, he seemed more confused than upset,

"Huh," he said. "I thought you liked this kind of stuff." No, not really. I'm just more prone to being victimized.

If we were officemates, and not life partners, I would be a project manager--I make schedules and think of all the details and when they need to get done to facilitate the other details. He would be the crackerjack producer--very talented, and pumped with attitude. We agreed that he would design our wedding invitations, since he's a designer and would complain about the quality of anyone else's work. He approved our caterer because she agreed to allow him creative input with our food. I'm glad he's not insisting on cooking at his own wedding.

Problem with B-friend is that he's a perfectionist with execution issues. If it can't be done perfectly, it ain't worth doing. B-friend's made it clear that he needs time to relax after work and can't work on wedding stuff; he needs his down time. I admire B-friend's ability to set boundaries. I wish I had the same ability. When I'm not admiring B-friend, however, I think of lobotomizing him.

Back when we first became engaged I imagined that we'd sit down and focus on every detail together, but it hasn't worked out that way. Both B-friend and I have fallen into our usual areas of competency--his, the day to day management of our household; mine, future planning--leaving us resentful of each other instead of appreciative of our yin-yanginess. When I've asked him to take on aspects of the wedding planning I've had to continually follow-up, hint and nag to get what I wanted. He's been pissed that I've forgone cooking meals, cleaning the house, and being present with him in order to input our registry data into our wedding website. I haven't been there for him, and he hasn't been there for me.

Earlier this week we blew up at each other. I asked him about the progress of our invitations, which I'd been hoping to send out days before. He was in the shower and getting ready for bed.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said. "I need to wind down." He'd opted not to work on the invitations the whole week because he was too drained from work.

"So how are you going to finish them?" I said.

"I'm not talking about it now."

"I don't get it. How are you going to get them done?"

"I told you I'm not going to talk about wedding stuff now before bed!"

"But I don't get it! These NEED to get done ..."

He still wouldn't engage, so I opened the shower curtain, exposing him to the air and continued to talk while he writhed like Linda Blair in holy water. Then he started throwing water on me; then I started crying; then I started screaming. Not cute screaming, more the kind that instigates calls to 911. The kind that takes so much out of you that you then flop over the sink sobbing and muttering threats under your breath in emotional post contractions:

" ... YOU don't want to talk about it ... so f*&^ing sick of this shit ... you make me sick .. can't even look at you ... why'd you ask me to marry you then, huh? ... crazy f*&^ing man ... "

For a moment I felt physically stronger than six-foot-tall B-friend, like I could kick his ass. He seemed genuinely in pain over my pain. Somehow I made it to bed. B-friend pulled me to him.

"I think we've got some stuff that has needed to come up around this wedding stuff," he said.

"I don't wanna do all of this," I said, tears coming down my cheeks.

"OK," he said. And left it at that.

The next morning I felt depleted. I didn't want to plan my day, let alone my life. B-friend has every other Friday off; he was in the office drawing tiny acorns.

"For the invitations," he said. "It fits our fall motif."

That feeling of emptiness lingered the next day as well, when we were on our way to a birthday party in Marin for our friends' two-year-old. Being the Taskmaster of the couple I'd arranged a meeting immediately after the party with one of my closest friends, Elisabeth, a minister who was going to officiate our wedding ceremony. She also lives in Marin, so despite B-friend's initial resistance to scheduling him on a Saturday, he agreed to start a conversation around our "I Do's".

We arrived at our friends' place in Marin County, but no one was there.

"What was the address on the invitation, Jory?" B-friend said.

Shit.

"I didn't bring the invitation. I just assumed the party would be at their place."

B-friend paused for a long time, then said quietly,

"I don't think it's here--nobody's home."

B-friend called our friends; no one picked up. We created a number of scenarios: Perhaps they were at their parents' house in Palo Alto--too far to drive on a hunch. Perhaps they were at a local park. We left the birthday gift at our friends' front door and wandered back to our car.

We stood there silently, not knowing what to do.

"Should we go back home?" B-friend said.

"We can't. We're meeting Elisabeth in a few hours."

"I don't think we should just sit around and do nothing," B-friend said. Would you call Elisabeth and let her know that we'll meet with her some other time?"

Shit squared.

"I can't. I left my cell phone at home."

"Use mine."

Shit cubed.

I swallowed: "I don't remember her mobile phone number ... it's in my cell phone."

B-friend was trying really hard at this point not to get angry. He looked more sad than anything.

I expected him to launch into me about screwing this up. After all, I was the one who opened the invitation and made sure we put it on our calendar. And I fully expected to defend myself by saying, "Hey at least I RESPONDED to the invite, bought a gift, reminded you about it and had the intention of getting us here." After all, I was always the one that made sure we planned our trips, made our friends' dinner parties, bought gifts and sent thank you notes... But he didn't blame me.

"I should have checked the invitation," he said.

We wandered into a nearby park.

"Where are we going? What are we doing?" I said.

"I don't know," B-friend said. "This sucks."

I was too tired to agree or disagree, "Yeah," was all that I could say in response.

"What a waste of a day," B-friend said.

"Yeah." He was right. I had left my list of things that still needed to be done at home too, thinking there was no point bringing it. I didn't have my computer or any phone numbers to start scheduling appointments. I felt like I was sixteen years old, when I spent significant amounts of time doing nothing, then I was 34 again. I was disoriented.

"All that we could have done instead of just sitting here," B-friend said.

"Yeah," I said, then added half-heartedly, "Maybe we could prepare for meeting with Elisabeth. She asked us to have some ideas ready for the ceremony."

It was hard enough planning the more tangible aspects of our wedding together; our vows seemed unapproachable. But the thought of sitting for two and a half hours doing nothing productive was more than I could bear.

"Whatever," B-friend said. "Sure."

"So what do we want in our ceremony?" I said, hoping he'd kick off the brainstorm.

"I don't know, Jory. What's that word you mentioned a while back when we first started planning? Not vows, what's the word?"

"Intentions."

"Right, intentions. What are our intentions?"

I didn't know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My mood did not lift immediately. I'm too practical of a person; I need to come away with a list of bulleted takeaways before I feel accomplished, and the discussion that ensued was stringy and frustrating like pulling out the pulp of a pumpkin. Yet by the time Elisabeth arrived the sides of our hearts had been scraped clean. We were ready to offer it up.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she said. She let us know about the numerous frustrations in her day that kept her from getting to us sooner. I shared with her our ridiculous predicament;  due to a grossly stupid oversight we had to sit in the park for a few hours, I told her.

I said, "It's just one of those days when everything goes wrong, I guess."

"I thought so, too," she said. "But maybe everything worked out the way it was supposed to."

I thought back to the messy conversation I'd had with B-friend that had started in frustration and that had ended with a vision. Our first vision in a long time. I thought of the time I'd wasted--not those hours in the park, but the months of planning before it.   

marriage wedding planning

Comments

[miffy]

Acorns and Intentions...no better words to offer up to keep a heart warm!

[Dan]

Jory

This is a sweet story at one level and at another has an edge of burn-out in it -- which might be defined as trying to keep going after the little bell in the body that says, "Too much" has gone off and been ignored a few (hundred)too many times. Sounds like both of you could use a big dose of that mutual medicine called "loved, trusted, and cared for." There's no particular glory in not attending to the bell, but most of us are conditioned not to do so to our detriment. Be good to you.

[Lady M]

Best wishes for the remaining wedding planning. And get some rest! Thanks so much for all your efforts in creating the BlogHer conference this year - I had a terrific time.

[Chris Owen]

As I read this post, I felt the hurts and pains and as I joined you in the park, I could feel the clouds lifting. Sensational writing Jory.
He's marrying you because of the "you" on the inside. I bet he's seemed perfectly content with the outside up till now so why would it change cos you've got a wedding dress on with or without perceived flabby bits?
You will look exquisitely beautiful on your wedding day because of the love shining out!
No-one in the future will remember the missing details of the perfectly planned wedding but they will remember joy and love that oozes from the pair of you and the committment you make to each other. You need to build that up and look after you two. You're the most important ones on the day.
Just don't forget the liquor order. If there's enough of that they won't notice what else is missing! Or that's the recipe at an Aussie party!
Keep chilling you wonderful things and you'll have a sensational day!!!

[prlinkbiz]

LOL The only "diet" I went on before my wedding was this: I replaced mochas and frappucinos with stright shots of espresso! I agree, don't forget the liquor, nothing else will matter! Try to enojoy it, it's going to come and go so fast!

[mothergoosemouse]

What a great story. I'm very much the project manager myself - by profession and by personality - and it has been hard to let go and roll with it. Wedding planning is a killer; I'm glad that you guys are enjoying those moments that CAN be enjoyed.

And "fat pockets"? Uh, HELLO?!

[Mike and Brenda]

Jory, you are beautiful! I can't decide which impresses me more -- the loving way you and Jesse work out your conflicts, or the openness with which you so poignantly share your lives with us J&J fans. Thank you!

Mike

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