Wedding Shmedding Bedding Begetting Heading Sledding

So I realized that I never came back and updated any details about the event. Chances are, if you are reading this, you were there and I know you had a good time, right? Right. (Good answer). I've had a terrible time getting the photos together, mostly because I have to sit down with my Dad and sort through all the raw photos so he can then work on them tirelessly in photoshop and print them and what have you. It will happen. Eventually. In the meantime, a lovely little Renbird printed an amazing sepia-toned pic of me and the hubs that I love and that adorns our mantle like an old-fashioned portrait of yore. I love it so much.

Incredibly, we're approaching one year - it's gone by SO FAST - and there's lots of activity around here - new businesses and race cars and traveling and keeping up with work. But I will get to the photos. Perhaps I'll even write a bit of a recap of the event, since god knows my memory is beginning to fade, and I'm already filling in unreliable details into the alcohol and stress-induced gaps in the evenings activities. Whatever. In short: It was hot, it was delicious, it was magical, it was full of my most favorite people, and while there were a lot of shoulder-shrugging-ooops-I-forgot-tos in retrospect, it was pretty perfect anyway. In fact, it was exactly what I hoped it would be. Except with too many dishes to do the next day. Note to self: Next time ditch the port-o-potty and hire cleaners!

Like a big ole backyard party...

... But fancy-like.

Like this party.

And this wedding.

And this one.

Or this one. Which happens to have taken place at one of my favorite/ideal venues, but is located too far from Ventura to be reasonable. So picture something akin to this one, but in a much smaller and enclosed yard next to a small orchard, without all the open space and sky and mountains and gorgeousness. (sigh)

And all of these (although lord knows who some of those so-called "backyards" belong to, whooooo boy. I suppose even Oprah could throw a backyard wedding, right? Dang.

Thematically speaking...

Thematically speaking, the wedding narrative will be delicately crafted by blending a modern contextualized old-timey Depression Era sensibility with something of a Scottish-backwoods-Ozarks-bluegrass-country-in-a-farmyard aesthetic. Oh wait, did I say delicately crafted? No no, scratch that. I meant extremely heavy-handedly tossed and spit stuck together with twigs and chewing gum. That's more realistic.

So old timey. Thirties. Dust bowl (no, not really) (well, maybe a little). And Scottish (cause of the kilts, maybe some thistles and bag pipes?) and Scottish settlers-ish (Bluegrass, babies, Bluegrass!). There will be some Jewish-y stuff in there too, and probably some nods to our new hometown, to vegetarianism, gardening and maybe travel? Or cars? Or technology and beer? No no, I jest. But who knows, it could all end up in there, I'm telling, cause I am essentially going kitchen-sink on this mofo. The groom, by the way, is not amused. But I say poppycock to his reservations - clearly he has no vision (if he's having trouble "seeing it in his mind's eye," I'm sure I could find him a photo somewhere on the porny porny wedding blog net - there is nothing you can conceive of for a wedding theme that hasn't already been cobbled together and graphically represented in a magazine-worthy photojournalism essay out there somewhere - it's dazzling).

Speaking of, since I have already stumbled upon photos of exactly what was beginning to take shape in my mixed-nuts brainpan, I will try to dig those up and post them for your imaginings happiness. Stay tuned.

Also? If you have any thoughts or additions to strange bits that could be thrown into the thematic mix, I totally welcome them. If you think I am a crazy person and my so-called themes are clashy clashy weird or retarded (mom!)? I don't want to hear it. YOU try mixing kilts into an otherwise casual wedding and see how far YOU get, mmmkay?*


*I'm actually kind of excited about the kilts, though they really do make everything else a crap pile more complicated to incorporate. And are tres spendy. And not so easy to come by. And seem to require the same conversation about whether or not he, or he, or that guy, or the other guy will wear undies. every. single. time. It occurs to me that I should start taking bets on that one - hell, I could probably get this whole shindig paid for with enough anticipatory flame fanning and basic gambling savvy.

So yeah, about that whole wedding thing...

The last of you lovely ladies to get hitched did so over three years ago. It was a fabulous, gorgeous, wonderful, pretty damn perfect good time. I loved it. I loved being the Maid of Honor, I loved all the hustle and bustle and flurry of activity ahead of time, I loved how totally and completely beautiful everyone looked, loved the details, the food, the dancing, the ambiance, the everything. It was like something out of a magazine. Or, rather, it was like something out of a wedding blog.

Which brings to me to my first point, both of this post and this entire new blog-e-lement: Oh. My. God. Have you visited the Wedding Porn blogosphere of late? It. Is. IN. SANE. Insane, girls, I'm not kidding. Like crackity crack crack crack crazy insane: make your eyes roll in pleasure and rot your teeth out of your head nutso.

Don't believe me? Let me introduce you to just one such needle in the arm of a jonesing bride: Once Wed. This ain't your mama's Martha Stewart Weddings, my friends. And it's not your older sibs' The Knot.com, fluffy poufta ballgown and a hundred giant centerpieces to return before hopping on the plane to the Bahamas either. This is all kinds of vintagey, DIY, homegrown, unique, unusual, interesting, and (most importantly) photojournalistically chronicled wedding shenanigans. And it's fucking crazy.

That's just one of about a hundred similar sites wildfire-speed spreading out in the net verse, by the way (don't worry, I'll link to a few more for your I-should-be-working-right-now-shit! time wasting pleasure). There are all kinds of angles being covered out there: Do-it-yourself, backyard weddings, weddings under "X" thousand bucks, Offbeat weddings for kookoo alternative types from Seattle with tattoos and dyed hair and a fondness for hula hoops (secretly love it, love it all). Intimate weddings, destination weddings, big glamorous Old Hollywood themed weddings, Circus-themed weddings (LOVE. IT.), loft weddings, art gallery weddings, Farm/Barn weddings (pay attention, loves), old-timey depression era weddings (ditto)... it's like someone fed the Wedding Gremlin after midnight and now the multiplying is beyond the control of mortal man.

Now, the one of you that got married the second most recently was all the way back in 2005, which is practically infant baby gaga time in the realm of wedding planning. That was like, notebooks and pencils and pages torn out of Brides magazine and Martha Stewart Weddings. And yet, you managed to have a totally beautiful, serene, intimate, sweet, gorgeous, touching, connected wedding all the same. Of course I do realize that it was practically a full time job to plan and execute the whole affair...

Which brings me to my next point, and thus the truest reason for this blog-a-rena: It is a fucking full time job to plan even a simple, homey, just-like-a-party-but-a-little-bigger-and-with-slightly-more-stuff-to-do-while-eating-and-drinking-and-shmoozing wedding. It appears to be a shit-ton of work, cost an unbelievable amount of money, and require WAY too many decisions be evaluated and considered and finalized along the way. Amby does not approve, I just want to go on record as having said that.

And that having been said, I need your help. Not, like, a ton of help, just a little bit of feedback, from you, my lovely crew of attendants and friends, as the planning begins in earnest. It's a new year (the one in which I will apparently be wed, or so I am told, if all goes according to plan, or plans as yet to come into conceptual being let alone be fruitionified) and June will be here before I know it, and, well, I guess I have some decisions to make. So unless we act on the recent fantasies about saying fuck it all to an actual wedding and running off to Scotland (where have you heard that before? and how many years ago? no matter, cause it still lives on mighty strong in the hearts and minds that reside in the Sanders/Mills household, I gotta tell you), it would appear that there are quite a few details to sort and settle on, some of which will directly involve you (dresses!) and some which will be peripheral (why can't the recessional song be Mena Mena, as done by the Muppets?) and others which will only matter to me, the crazed-eyed Bride (OH. MY. FUCKINGGODI'MABRIDEWHATTHEHELL?) and possibly the deer-in-headlights man who will playing the part of the Groom in this little orchestration.

Ready? Two-four-seven-13-24-HIKE! Er... Let's GO!