This is a wedding rant. I’m feeling hurt and nasty and snotty and sarcastic. You have been warned.

Ever since Alan gave me a ring and we started telling people that it was official, everyone asks (in the same breath with congratulations), “When’s the big day?” This took me aback a little; I know people mean well and are only asking out of friendliness, but truly, I didn’t realize it was expected that we’d have a lot of those details decided when we announced. I thought the date to some extent would be determined by the venue, which would be determined by the size of the guest list and the formality of the event. I figured we’d need to get the what and where sorted first and sort of back into a date. To that end, we’ve talked a bit about the wedding and know what we don’t want, but arriving at a workable compromise based on what we do want is taking some time.

First off, I didn’t want a big huge monster production; I don’t like being the center of attention, I don’t like crowds, I don’t respond well to pressure - so I wanted to elope to Vegas and get married by an Elvis. That bright light back there and the extreme heat would be from the leaping flames with which THAT idea got shot down. Oh, well, it’s not like a girl’s wedding is important to her or anything, so letting go of that dream was no big deal.

Alan agreed that it need not be a huge, overwhelming event but wants a more traditional thing, surrounded by friends and family. Fine. In all seriousness, I realize that I’m going to have to be the one to give in on this because eloping to Vegas makes nobody happy, not even me because I’ll know that’s not what Alan wants. Something held here, more traditional but not so huge as to be the proverbial three-ring circus, makes the most people the happiest, so that’s what’s happening.

The question remains: what is to be done instead? Because we live in Georgia, which is sweltering hot and humid seven months out of the year, freezing for two and prone to sudden, drenching thunderstorms almost all of it, and because I suffer from horrendous allergies, I think an outdoor ceremony is out of the running.

One popular suggestion is the courthouse wedding and “a party later”. I don’t like that idea either. My brother and his wife got married at the courthouse and I don’t mean to imply that there’s anything wrong with that - there isn’t - I think it’s just not right for us. From my perspective, it’s a very momentous occasion and my aversion to the three-ring circus notwithstanding, it doesn’t feel right to me to simply get up like any other Tuesday, put on clothes you’d wear any other day to any other place, and have that be all. Nor does it satisfy Alan’s wish to have his entire family there, which we can hardly do without my entire family there, which means a swarm of twenty-plus persons descending upon the courthouse. Call me crazy, but I don’t see that as ideal, even workable. As far as having the party later, it still leaves all the same concerns I have about the wedding in the first place: finding a suitable venue, being able to construct a guest list that doesn’t offend anyone, that doesn’t violate Southern Laws of Etiquette (I would never want to do anything that could be perceived as ill-mannered), that doesn’t bankrupt anyone and doesn’t evolve into an absolute circus.

I keep thinking there has to be some compromise that we can both live with, something between punch and cookies in a wood-panelled church fellowship hall and a four-hundred guest country club blowout - right? RIGHT? Hmpf. So far, the attempts I’ve made at having a serious discussion to determine what will make the most people the most satisfied have not gone well.

I was hoping that this past weekend, the moms could give some input, the types of things they wanted and expected, maybe suggest something that hadn’t occurred to us. Instead the conversation descended into the ridiculous. I’m not sure why, I guess she called herself teasing me, but my mom started throwing out the most facetious suggestions, things she knows full well are farcical. It hurt my feelings but I crossed over into pissed when she said, “I know! Academy Springs Park!” Yes, an outdoor, public children’s playground with cinderblock outbuildings and a row of garbage dumpsters visible from every red-dirt inch of it is the PERFECT venue for my wedding! This, from a woman who considered Vegas and an Elvis officiant too tacky. Then again, it’s so ME! I mean, if I can’t do it stark naked on the steps of the Vatican with a live feed on CNN, well obviously that would be my second choice! Thanks so much. Alan’s mom could see that I was getting upset (although she didn’t know why) so she changed the subject, which was probably best but still nothing got decided.

Last night I made another attempt, which ended with me in tears after Alan’s “helpful” input culminated in suggesting that I go to Target to purchase white thick-soled flip-flops to go with my wedding shorts. Lovely. Maybe he’ll do that again on the actual day, because I look so wonderful with a red nose and puffy eyes from sobbing. It really, really hurts me that with something this important to me, upon which I’m trying to compromise and accommodate everyone’s wishes, the people to whom it’s also supposed to be important and to whom I’m supposed to be important find more interest and satisfaction in mocking me, making fun of me and trivializing the event than offering any sort of support or realistic suggestions.

Okay, I guess my rant is over because I’m crying again and need to go next door for some tissues. Just don't ask me how the wedding plans are going, okay?