Squealing is for Pigs

By now it should no longer need stating that I am not a traditional bride.  I am not so much a fan of wedding planning.  I'm finding the whole continuity of decor thing to be a bit dull and overwhelming.   It took me two years to decorate my home.  Ya know, that thing I sit in EVERY DAY.  And I'm still not done with it.  The expectation that a lay person can craft a cohesively designed evening in a matter of months is complete horse hooey.  And yes, I do realize there are folks who do this for a living.  Do you know how much those bitches cost?  It's not like I'm not skilled in making things pretty.  It just takes TIME.  Ya know, that thing I don't have.

Wow.  Sorry about that.  Griping about the intricacies of planning is not even why I'm here today.  I'm here today to discuss the squeals women get when anyone mentions a wedding. "Ohhhh!  You're engaged!  EeeEEEeeee!!!  Let me see that rock!"  I never know what to say to these folks so I just grin and thrust my left hand in their face...when I remember to wear my engagement ring.  What?!  I'm not a ring person.  Get off me.

Gay men also get this squeal.  Just this evening, I passed some friends on my way back from the corner grocer.  "Oooo!  You haven't seen Angie in a while!  She's engaged and in the midst of planning her fabulous wedding!" said one to the other.  The other looked at me like any good bear would - with that "I really don't want to pretend to care" look.  Never one to disappoint, I immediately started out with, "Yes.  I hate planning.  Why can't I just show up in a pretty dress, say some vows, and have someone pour me a cocktail already?"  The bear perked up and then did what EVERY LIVING BREATHING SOUL has done to me since I got engaged....he told me how to do my wedding.  Because his sister did it that way and she was sooooo happy.  "So you should totally do that."  Right.  I'll get right on that.  Can you repeat?  Oh yes, I think I missed that last part.  

What. The. Hell.  Why does everyone think they should just jump right on in and give me ideas and advice on an event they know nothing about that I've already been planning for four months?  Now I totally know how pregnant women feel when complete strangers walk up and start rubbing their bellies.  When I get pregnant (not that I'm trying so slow your roll there), I'm getting a shirt made that says, "Touch me and die, bitches."  I can't wait to go to Safeway in that shirt.  Oooo.  Or maybe a knitting store.  Oh yeah.  Grandmas all over the Bay Area will be scarred.  It will be The Awesome(TM).  Until then, I'll just grin, thrust, and move on.