It is now five weeks until I get married. Those who have already been married will know that it’s an odd feeling of excitement, panic and “please don’t let me fuck it up” based apprehension.
I have been told that the day itself will fly by, like Christmas Day when you’re a child, but it is the waiting that’s the killer. The “this time in X weeks we’ll be doing so and so” makes it seem both real and forever distant.
We had the tasting menu (free food – always welcome) and that went well enough; food great, service slow. But that was because it was a Sunday and they were understaffed. I have heard from others who got married in the same venue that service is excellent on the actual day.
We just have to go round Dublin now and give people money. People involved in the wedding and not just any random wanker. That would be a silly thing to do again.
A few of my female friends are amazed at how involved with the whole thing I am. Granted I haven’t specifically chosen anything but my opinion is listened to. A lot of it is confusing for a “basic model male” such as myself. Things like table plans, ribbons for chairs, the colour of the bridesmaids dresses, how many tiers a cake has, whether or not one person gets a flower or not, who gets a suit, who should get a suit but isn’t, where people will stay if not the hotel, how people get to the hotel and so forth
Having said all of this I do have the feeling that everything is falling into place gradually.