Here comes the bride(zilla)

“Who wants to say something? Anyone?”
It was open mike at a wedding reception.
I didn’t know the bride or groom but joked to Learner Dad about going up to make a little speech.
“Yes I can see it now,” he said sarcastically, mimicking: “Hi, my name is Alison. It’s 343 days until my wedding…”
I looked at him.
And realised he was right.
I’d chatted about our wedding non-stop all night.
Actually that’s not true.
I’d been chatting about our wedding non-stop for weeks!
But never more than at this wedding.
“The food is fantastic. Maybe we should have considered this place, although I’m not sure I want cocktail style. What do you think about the cash bar? Surely it’ll run out soon. Do you like their registry idea? What about the song they played as she came in? I love the bridesmaid’s dresses. What do you think? Look at the bridesmaids honey. Look at them.”
Forced to perve on the bridesmaids, Learner Dad clearly thought I was going nuts.
Weeks later, I’d got worse.
At this wedding, I didn’t even save my questions for the reception, grilling Learner Dad during the ceremony: “Do you think our celebrant will say that stuff?” “Should we kiss like that?” “Will you cry too?”
It had started out slowly, our own wedding planning I mean.
We picked a venue for the ceremony and a venue for the reception and locked them in.
We started visiting photographers and we booked a celebrant.
I surprised myself by finding ‘The Dress’ at one of the first bridal shops I visited.
All was cool, easy, hunky dory… man.
Then the one year countdown began.
A full year never looked so short.
Table settings, candles, flowers, food, drink, invites, cars, suits, gifts, veils and shoes began swirling around in my mind, accompanied by an array of potential songs and against a backdrop of potential colours.
I began reading and re-reading my wedding planning book, adding things I’d already added and crossing them out again.
I could see this was going to be a consuming year.
Now, with fewer than 300 days to go, the momentum continues to build.
I can see myself mumbling vows in my sleep, designing cakes with my dinner, and googling table decorations while trying to blog.
All for another 292 days.
Forget the year of the snake.
Forget the federal election.
Forget the bloody Duchess’ baby.
2013, my friends, is the year of my wedding.
(Sorry, our wedding).
Anne Hathaway’s run as Fantine will pale in comparison to mine as Bridezilla.
I just hope, if Learner Dad does cry on the day, that they’re not merely tears of relief.


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