Melvin, the Security Guard: The Joys and Perils of Reception Hall Shopping

There comes a point while looking at reception halls when you wonder how and at what moment did someone hear or think they heard the call to join the wedding industry. For most I’m sure it really is something they enjoy doing. I imagine they often find beauty and joy personified in the giddy, wide-eyed, batting-eyelashes brides. I have met such people along our wedding-planning journey and I’d be lying if I said they didn’t make me feel special, beautiful and mildly idolized. I mean if a stranger is just beaming at you, their face aglow with iconoclastic admiration, something good just has to be going on right? But then there are those people who come right out of some cliché jail scene; the ones where the large, balding guard sits behind a wobbly, coffee-stained desk, his eyes closed and crossed arms resting on his stomach. Sometimes there’s a cigar butt hanging from his mouth and others there’s only a string of drool. We had just such a close encounter recently, when a man we’ll call Melvin introduced us to the anti-joys of reception hall shopping. To be fair, he wasn’t employed solely to work in the wedding industry but just occasionally asked to step in when no one else is around. He was a man of few words, who told us which door to go through and watched as we struggled to enter an obviously locked room. The oddity is that I expected a smile from him, something to show a personal, slightly sadistic enjoyment at another’s silly attempt at the impossible; he kept his mouth closed and revealed nothing to us but a blank stare. Later, a woman who was too busy to help, asked Melvin to open the door for us – which oddly wasn’t the door he initially told us to go to. He walked over, various chains, coins and keys clinking in his pockets, and unlocked the door. Like St. Nick in that poem – the one whose length is no longer suitable for today’s ADHD world – he said not a word and wiping a finger under his nose, returned to his desk.

Again to be fair, he wasn’t hired to be a people person. He seemed to be something of a night watchman filling in for daytime security. We were able to walk around ourselves just fine – the space really was beautiful – and the wedding coordinator who oddly doesn’t work Saturday mornings or afternoons had already emailed us all of the necessary business information. Melvin wasn’t hired to help us but he did, in his own way, and although I liked the place, I’m now hesitant to drop several grand on it. I have to wonder if I’m being unfair. Do I take this moment into consideration? Maybe I should give the wedding coordinator a chance to strut her stuff? I feel as if I need to define quality vs. boo-boos, or what my boss likes to call, “isolated incidents.” What do you think – did Melvin foreshadow a crash and burn wedding or was it inconsequential?

~ Bride

Deadlines: Crush or Be Crushed

Deadlines. Booo!

Talk to any wedded couple, and they’ll tell you that it’s important to make progress on wedding planning decisions. Time is of the essence, of course, and the last thing anyone wants is a bride scrambling to tie up loose ends on her big day.

Unfortunately, after what I would consider a pretty great start in hunting down the perfect reception location, we’ve lost some steam. I can’t tell you the cause, only because I don’t know it. So far we’ve found two reception halls we really like, but since then, it seems we’ve been a bit lax. It’s surprising, too. In May, picking a reception hall by the end of July seemed like an easy task.

Today is August 7. Apparently, not so easy.

Of course, I’m speaking in generalities, as a guy is wont to do. Specifically, I don’t have the slightest game plan figured out for what it is we need to do, and when we need to do it by. I’m sure there are a few glossy wedding magazines that share such juicy tidbits, but I’ve been of the disposition that once the big domino (the reception hall) falls, we’ll be able to knock over the others (invitations, flowers, music) in quick succession. Call it wishful thinking, but I honestly believe we’ll catch a second wind once the stress of locking in a great reception locale has passed.

And believe me – I’m game for hitting the deadlines. Conventional “best-bro” advice says to take a back seat in planning and let the little lady handle it just the way she wants. I won’t be hijacking the search for a dress or anything, but I’m definitely happy – and excited – to help (in other areas, of course) with planning and keeping on track.

Wow, did I just say that?

~ Groom

I consider myself a well-seasoned meet-that-deadline veteran. I’ve taken on the brunt of them with minimal groans and eyelid spasms. But now I have one that I’ve set, one that is not for a job, a class, a long-dreamed-of goal, or freelance work, and I tell you, it’s a whole different ballgame. First of all, this deadline feels soft and pliable. I can push it off to the side and it still looks as pretty and simple as the flowers I have to order to meet it. I’ve started wondering if I should be reading more into my lackluster drive to pummel this deadline into the ground. It’s not that I don’t want to plan a wedding, I do. It’s not that I don’t want to marry the man I live with – I want that more than anything. It’s just, at the end of the day, when I’ve met work deadlines, studied for the GRE and stuck to my daily commitment to write fiction, I find that I’m tired and that couch just looks so wonderful! Planning a wedding is something I can only seem to be excited about on the weekend, usually Sunday morning, when I can be in frame of mind to flip have-to’s to want-to’s. I recently discovered a term called the anti-bride; they want to get married but don’t want to have a wedding. I thought I might be falling into that but after I thought about it, I realized I really do want to have a wedding and a marriage. I just want to sleep and write too. What do you think? Is it possible to have a life and plan a wedding? If so, how? If you know, tell me!!! I could use the help.

~ Bride

Top Ten Songs Not to Play At Your Wedding

The Top Ten Worst Wedding Songs

Not playing songs like Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and Pink Floyd’s…well… anything at your wedding are common sense, folks. It’s not that they’re not great tunes, but you can’t dance to The Wall and you don’t want to have paramedics on stand-by when your parents try to slam dance. (Ah, those were the days. 90’s, you are missed!) With that in mind, either because they’re currently popular or are just plain fun, there are some songs that fall into the maybe-we-could-play-this category. The list below is comprised of such songs and although some may be so much fun to sing in your car or provide great insight at 3 a.m., ask yourself how would you feel watching your grandmother on the dance floor and getting her groove on?

1. Butterfly Kisses – Bob Carlise

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, lots of people play this song for the Father-Daughter dance. Yes, that’s true and also one of the reasons not to use it.*

2. I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For – U2

Hi, newlywed, my love-of-this-minute. Hear this song? Yeah, it’s actually my reality-television-worthy way of saying you should have fought for that prenup.

3. You Can’t Always Get What You Want – Rolling Stones

Hi there again, newlywed. Hear this song? I had them play it for me, to convince me to stay with you. Let’s just hope the lyrics stick around after the champagne runs out.

4. Creep – Radiohead

Yeah, leave this one on your “Me, Blue” playlist.

5. Every Breath You Take – The Police

Scene: Groom and Bride dancing together at their wedding

Groom: I have a surprise for you!

Bride: What?

Groom: I know about your Scooby Doo obsession.

Bride: What?!

Groom: Well… (Reaches behind head and pulls off mask) Jinkies, it’s me your stalker!

Bride screams, faints. Zoom in on maniacally laughing groom.

Fade to black.

6. Smack My Bitch Up – Prodigy

Bet you thought all that cookware on our registry was going into the kitchen, didn’t you?

7.  Baby Got Back – Sir Mix-A-lot

We really want our wedding to have that karaoke/high-school dance/drunken early-90’s’s themed party feel. Enjoy! Next up, Ice Ice Ice Baby and No Scrubs. RIP Left Eye!

8. You Shook Me All Night Long – AC/DC

Umm…we thought permanent emotional and mental scarring would be the perfect favor to give our parents, family and friends.

9. Let’s Get It On – Marvin Gaye

No, we really think it’s the perfect favor. Seriously.

10. Whistle – Flo Rida

Yeah, this song’s on iTunes best-sellers list. I’ll play it at my wedding and show I’m all up on what’s in. I’ll just bust my awesome moves and my Grandma will never notice the chorus starts with “can you blow my whistle baby?” Even if she hears it, she’ll never know. The double entendre is so complex.

~ Bride

BAD WEDDING SONGS

We’ve all heard our share at wedding receptions. Everything seems to be going well until the DJ makes a dreaded introduction and the speakers start churning out a funk that sends the guests to the bathroom and the bar. Nothing smokes out the party atmosphere faster than tuneage that’s the equivalent of an Alabama roadkill buffet. Here’s my list of songs that are on the landmine list when it comes to our reception; and yes, I’ve heard each of these songs at a wedding:

1. Escape (The Pina Colada Song) – Rupert Holmes
   One word – “ouch.” This crap-tastic hit(?) from 1980 tells the shallow, cliché story of a couple coincidentally reuniting over their mutual search for extra-marital romance in the Personals section of the newspaper. “If you like Pina Coladas…” don’t come to our wedding, because they won’t be there.
2. My Heart Will Go On – Celine Dion
   This song goes on… and on… and on. Titanic hit the theatres when I was in high school, and I saw enough misty-eyed teenage-girl longing for DiCaprio-style romance to last a slow voyage across the Atlantic.
3. The Safety Dance – Men Without Hats
   This song isn’t funny or quirky. It’s just stupid. So don’t play it.
4. Anything by Styx
   Yes, I know Styx is popular with some people, and that Dennis DeYoung is from Chicago. I’d still rather be mauled by rabid bears than hear “Come Sail Away.” If you ask me, the only “grand illusion” was the quality of this band’s music. I’m officially sending Mr. Roboto away for reprogramming. Blech.
5. I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That) – Meatloaf
   Something I won’t be doing? Playing this song.
6. Achy Breaky Heart – Billy Ray Cyrus
   No comment.
7. Rock ‘N Roll Part II – Gary Glitter
   This isn’t Madison Square Garden or Rupp Arena. Gary Glitter will be sitting a few plays out at our wedding.
8. Piano Man – Billy Joel
   I respect Billy Joel as an artist, I just don’t care for his music that much. Besides, this song is vastly overplayed. Again, I’m fine with Mr. Joel:  just not this tune.
9. You Give Love A Bad Name – Bon Jovi
   At a wedding? Ummm… no.
10. Living On A Prayer – Bon Jovi
    Okay, so I’m a jerk for rounding out this list with two songs from the same artist. And yes, Bon Jovi was HUGE when I was a little kid. I just feel like we could all leave the stonewashed jeans and Ocean Pacific gear in the closet where we put them 25 years ago.

~ Groom

Is the Lady to Blame when His Fashion is Crashin’?

I once had the unfortunate experience of being blamed for my then-boyfriend’s mismatched apparel and commonly exhibited male behavior. My judge, a female friend, passed off the critique as a joke followed by a lengthy revelation into how his appearance reflects more on me, than him. She laughed while walking away, leaving me to wonder just how much, if any, my partner’s appearance and behavior should be considered my fault. He was an individual before I met him, dressing the same way now as he did then (meaning ten-year old T-shirts and beer-logo hats) but before me, his dress and manners were simply and adorably, guyish, but now, as I have taken him into my life and he, me, it seems to be more my womanly duty to throw shirts out and replace them, comment on his clothes before leaving the house, and ensure that he doesn’t embarrass himself, me or our unborn children who may have political aspirations. Honestly, this whole practice seems like some trap set-up to make women feel inadequate and stay focused on her man’s success rather than her own. (Don’t worry, clarification on this bit ‘o’ feminism rawr comes later) I understand wanting your partner to look good because you love him and don’t want him to be embarrassed in front of his boss or coworkers but come on, if a guy wants to wear the shirt he wore in his high-school yearbook photo to a barbeque or poker night, why can’t he? If he’s going out with the guys, I have a hard time believing that any of them would be able to remember his clothes beyond that he wasn’t naked – unless he was wearing a rival team’s apparel.

I’m not naïve. I know that the unknown but powerful, collective “we” unfairly scrutinizes people on the fact they are associated or related to someone who can’t seem to figure out that you shouldn’t wear polka-dot socks and a striped shirt. I know people look at him and wonder why his woman didn’t save him from himself as they are the only ones who can. I’m going to be honest and say I don’t have the time to even address my own lacking wardrobe and needed-to-get-cut-two-months-ago hair. Sometimes I just don’t have the energy to say, “that doesn’t match.” Can’t we women just assume that the reason a husband/boyfriend/fiance’s clothes don’t match, is because his woman got promoted, spent 50 hours at work that week, made it to two dance recitals, cooked dinner and managed to scrounge up cupcakes for something that she can’t even remember what it’s for other than they’re supposed to be gluten-free? Even though that might not be true, can’t we just admit that it might be true and lay off the woman? A man’s clothes are his own.

P.S. Brett, this doesn’t mean I like your accumulating collection of beer apparel.

~ Bride

Talk to pretty much any guy, and you’ll realize that they have a few items of “clutch” clothing – those, safe, old, reliable shirts or pants (or boxers) that comprise the staple of the male wardrobe. In the male world of fashion (let’s call it “mashion”), these are the solid performers, the clutch hitters that help you look good and feel good. I have a few of these myself:  my old drumline shirt from high school, my Editorial Staff shirt from my college newspaper days (Go Elmhurst Bluejays!), and a pair of khaki cargo pants from Old Navy that just won’t give in. They’re relaxed and comfortable, and they make me feel like me. So what’s wrong with that?

Well, some of these mashion staples have (unfortunately) seen better days, a fact your significant other will share with you. And, as any girlfriend will confirm, a fraying collar here, some grease stains there, and color that’s more gray than black are the tell-tale signs you need to retire your favorite grizzled wardrobe veteran.

Believe me, it’s no fun. You’ll get a sick feeling in your stomach when you know the news is coming. Here’s a sample play-by-play:

Guy enters room.

“Oh, are you wearing that out tonight?” girlfriend asks.

“Well, yeah!” dude replies indignantly, eyes shifting between girlfriend and clothing artifact in question.

Girlfriend takes breath, pauses, and bites lower lip, thinking of how to break the news delicately: “It’s pretty faded, and it’s got a big stain right there… and there… and over here there’s a hole in the armpit.”

In short, it’s the beginning of the end – but perhaps with good reason. My lovely lady recently spilled the beans that in the inner female sanctum, a boyfriend’s/husband’s appearance can sometimes speak volumes about her actual significance in the role of “significant other.”

Translation:  ladies who let their gentlemen strut about in swiss-cheese jeans and a “Clash of the Titans ’91 Tour” t-shirt can be perceived as lazy, uncommitted, and lacking an equal voice in the relationship. It sends the message that she doesn’t care or have a say in what they look like.

Fair or unfair? I say unfair, but probably not uncommon. A dude is a dude, and sometimes we make less-than-stellar decisions about our appearance in the name of comfort (or reverence). That might be stubborn and a bit ignorant regarding the perceptions of others, but it shouldn’t be seen as a reflection on the lady ,or the dynamics of the relationship in which she’s involved. Frankly, I give the whole notion a hearty “Boo-urns!”

~ Groom

Okay, we need help settling this argument. What do you think? Should women be held accountable for their man’s appearance? Post your thoughts or take the poll.

Busting Guts & Building Guns

It’s official:  yours truly has started on a pre-wedding exercise regimen. And not just any regimen, mind you. This is one that needs to work. One with a timeline. One that I’ll actually have to stick to.

Ouch.

Yes, I’m trading in my couple of Hamm’s or PBRs with dinner each night for a pair of gym shoes and an early-morning trip six days a week to the fitness center at Moraine Valley Community College. So far, the results are mixed. I like the folks at the fitness center (shout-out to Ewan, Scottish expat and personal trainer extraordinaire) and I’ve noticed a difference in muscle mass, but it seems the spare tire and accompanying gut just won’t budge. I’ve plateaued after losing about 10 pounds, and any way you cut it, cardio work just plain sucks.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not gullible or desperate enough to jump on the latest diet fad or ingest the newest ancient Chinese herbal concoction aimed at shedding the extra weight. But I’ve got to admit, those grueling sessions on the cross-trainer every morning definitely give me time to wonder:  isn’t there an easier way? Dear reader, your thoughts, tips, and responses encouraged.

As for now, let’s all raise a glass to poor souls valiantly sticking it out on the quest to get in better shape.

Just make sure it’s filled with water.

~ Groom

One of the greatest truths about my body that I’ve discovered is that you can be a vegan and a marathoner for over ten years and still have cellulite. From this I’ve inferred two things; 1) there is absolutely nothing except surgery that will get rid of it and 2) my cellulite really is just as much a part of my body as an arm or leg and it’s time I accepted it.

For anyone who’s about to get married or thinks it’s a possibility at some point, I want to let you know that I’ve come across a few hidden glitches mixed in among all the exciting-preparations-for-the happiest-day-of-your-life. Yes, it’s a time to prepare for a life partnership but it’s also when you start checking in on yourself, noting all those things (physical, mental and emotional) that are okay but not where you’d like them. So now you have to make time for enough appointments to address them before the most expensive deadline you’ve ever had arrives. First, I want to be clear that I don’t think I’m going to walk down that aisle a shining beacon of perfection. All I want is to feel happy and healthy and yes, call me vain if you must, but on my wedding day I want to look, well, good. So, tell me; how do I convince my arms, shoulders and stomach that even though they didn’t really change much over the course of training for five marathons that now, as I’m engaged, it’s time to pick up the slack and grow or shrink as fast as when Alice ate those little cakes after falling down one heck of a rabbit hole? I don’t know the answer but I’ve started looking for it; I make it to LA Fitness a few times a week, unroll the yoga mat twice a week and manage to fit in a couple P90X sessions. I’ve kept up the chocolate-eating but switched in a few more salads. There’s supposedly food out there that when eaten for X amount of time will turn you into a radiant ball of light but I don’t know what it is and all I really want anyway is to have the equivalent glow of a night-lite. I don’t believe in diets; I believe in habits. I know that if I work out four to five times a week and repeat, then I can walk down that aisle one happy, healthy bride.

~ Bride

Engaged & Clueless

We’re getting married. On the whole, not an unusual affair but one that is for us and remains indisputably worthy of some formality, heartfelt sentiments, and many, many moments of indecision that all seem to be related to answering the question of what defines us? Which flavor of cake best showcases our taste? Are we trying to showcase an “us” or rather separating things into the categories of you pick this and I’ll pick that; all done in the hope of displaying an equality of sorts so to appear as solid and stable of a couple as possible. But here’s the thing – we don’t have the slightest clue what we’re doing, what to expect, or what we want this day that feels more mythical than real to be. So we’re writing about it. Separately. There’s the groom’s views and the bride’s views. Both will pop-up here of course, and maybe along the way to this fantastical day that, seeing how its in the summer of 2013 may not happen at all if those pesky Mayans got their calendar right, we’ll figure out what’s important to us, what’s not and what really is the point of it all. Some posts will elaborate on favors and flowers while others will fall into exploring love and marriage and the importance and meaning of forever. We’ll be here until the big day comes and then some. No doubt posting some after-the-big-day pics and thoughts. Who knows what this crazy ride will bring us but if you’re reading this and you’re a bride or groom or just a bride or groom-in-training, know that when we get good wedding tips we’ll be sharing them aplenty.

Take care and stay calm,

Bride & Groom