|Tip #1: Stare Deeply Into The Eyes of Your Fiance At All Times|
Getting engaged is by far one of the most exciting things that's ever happened to me, and I once tap danced with Savion Glover on the set of Sesame Street alongside Phylicia Rashad's son.
But being engaged is by far one of the weirdest experienced of my life - to date. I can only assume growing a human inside my stomach will be weirder, but I feel like I somehow have more experience with that on account of how many times I've been so stuffed with food I feel like I'm carrying a full term child.
Here are the top ten things among the dozens of things that are incredibly weird about being engaged:
1. The ring
I don't really know how to handle this incredibly precious thing that I now wear on my hand - the body part that does the most slamming into things (aside from the foot, but walking can't really be counted, so the hand takes it). Can it go in the shower? Can it go in the pool? Should it wash dishes? Do I put sunscreen on it (j/k - I know I don't. I Googled it)? It could be that my awkwardness about the ring is related to the fact that I'm left-handed, so my dominant hand is not my ring hand. Think of allll the things you do with your dominant hand. Now think of doing them all while wearing the most important item you've ever owned. See my issue?
2. This discussion of the wedding with people you may or may not be able to invite
I don't think I need to explain how awkward this is, I'm just hoping my face doesn't do the explaining for me whenever I'm in conversation with someone who may or may not be on the A list...
3. Creating the A List versus the B List
It's like Survivor: Everyone In Your Life Edition. Remember the last time you had to rank your all of your family and friends by their importance in your life while taking into consideration their perceived importance in your life and the fact that you can only afford to invite 1/3 of them? Right.
4. That moment when someone asks you and your fiance a question that you haven't yet discussed
It's not just that you have to awkwardly stare at each other waiting for one to make a decision-move first; it's that you have to acknowledge before whomever is asking that you have not in any way discussed this likely huge issue. Examples include: are you going to do a first look or wait until the aisle? Are you going to write your own vows? Are you going to have a religious wedding? Where are you going to sleep before the wedding?
5. That moment when someone asks you and your fiance a question you haven't discussed and that you have completely opposite answers to...
See above. Replace the awkward staring at each other with instant, opposing responses. Add in the embarrassment of not having discussed this issue with the embarrassment of having completely different views on the topic. No need to stir.
6. Deciding if it's J + R or R + J
This is minor but still worth mentioning. We're going R + J on materials but I go J + R when signing joint thank you notes for engagement gifts. Frankly, if I'm coming up with a dozenth way to say, "thank you for this gift," I'm signing my name first.
7. Discussing every element of your wedding planning with friends without ever mentioning your budget
I cannot tell you how many times I've said, "you know...we're on a budget, so..." The so is intended to explain why I'm discussing making all of my own centerpieces and potentially stealing flowers from a farm close to our venue - as just two of one thousand examples.
8. How confusing the gravity of this whole thing is
Every - oh - 25 minutes - I lose complete and utter sight of the fact that this is just a big party to celebrate the union of our two lives. See, I just did it. I called it, "the union of our two lives," instead of, "getting married." Even I'm conflicted about it! Is this the most important six hours of my entire life or is this a really fun party to celebrate our love?! Also, who exactly gets to decide this? Me? R? Me + R? Our parents?
9. Using the term FIANCE
This is stranger than it seems. So strange, in fact, that R has taken to using the term, "guy you're going to marry," when discussing his new role in my life. Example: "You're welcome. I'm just trying to be a future husband." I'd correct him, but I keep introducing him as my boyfriend, so I think that makes us even.
10. The waiting to get married part
We're getting married about a year from the day we got engaged. I now know that is about a year too long. Yes, the planning and prep takes time, but if I could do it all over again I'd have a six month engagement. Sustaining extreme excitement and anticipation for one whole year cannot be good for the pre-ulcerous stomach...
What did I miss, wedding planning survivors?