Throwback Part 1 (edited)

I’m backing up selected posts I put on another blog to here…just so you can see what I think in real time. I’m real, son! But no dress pics here, because Sweet Intended can’t see it yet…and neither should you. Shoo, trying to look at my dress!


So… FH decided to chime in today. No worries- I’ve been trying to get him involved since Day Once, but he either claims male privilege (as if I dreamed at age 6 of planning a wedding alone, neither living near my parents nor his); or he sighs heavily and says a version of, “We can’t do what Iiiiiiii want, anyway,” which means in real words, “I know the idea of an actual FUNHOUSE is probably outside the $5000 budget for a destination wedding in San Francisco, but I want to make this your fault.”

Anyhoo, FH tells me he wants a 40s Film Noir theme. He knows I love the 40s (my ring is vintage), and I’m cool with it. So here’s my version of an inspiration board based on his input…

I also tried on fit and flare’s at DB today. I LOVE them- pretty sure anything other than a close fitting A-line or a fit-and-flare will tick me off now. Also, they’ll switch Dress #1 (not shown here) to White from Ivory, no problem!!!

Progress continues, and once I get FH’s guest list, we can rock and roll to the finish!

Note to other brides, we think about eloping every day. Every day. And we (I) work the budget every day. And I usually cry. Not a characteristic from Before, but apparently, from NOW. And CNN just profiled a couple who got married and broadcast it on the Internet for $300. No family present. I wish I were these people.

But this is fun, right?


Plump (not pimp) My Wedding

* In an attempt to post and not wait for permission or validation, from now on, you get the post- straight, no chaser. Maybe it cuts off in the middle- but that’s my life.

OK crew… (well, no one since I haven’t publicized this blog yet)…

I’m planning a wedding, and in some ways I want to do this all myself, and not ask anyone for anything. On the other hand, I desperately want help, and can’t see how I’ll be able to make the most mundane decisions by the time this is all over. I am soooo not a fashion person, or a decor person, and as you’ll figure out, even thinking about these things generates crazy-making self-doubt shite that (say that last part in a “Dr. Cox from Scrubs” voice). So I’ll be posting things here and you, dear reader, can help me wade through this.

The Date:

December 29, 2010. It’s actually the anniversary of a friend, and I picked it because it was a comfortable date in December (the man picked December).

Here are pics from that (other, pre-Sweet Intended) wedding.

What occurs to me from these pictures (which I took most of, BTW- whatever that means) is that I do not care about all the decor stuff I am currently obsessed about. I want pictures of the people; candids that show what we were doing and how much fun we had doing it. Helpful, as I continue to plan my own shit. Nice.


So…this is me:

Sean's party

Regular me

No muss, no fuss. Just regular me. I’m 35, I’m a grad student, I live in Colorado. So this is what I usually look like, when I’m not paying attention- and I hardly ever am.

This is me, when I choose to dress up:

Night Out Me

Me dressed to go out

Now this happens less frequently, but all the same, I clean up pretty good. And I like getting dressed up. I do. Love it, in fact. I love hair and makeup and pretty things. But that takes me a lot of time to do, and one thing I tend not to have a ton of, is time. I’m a grad student- and here’s my life:


My life according to a cartoonist

So I don’t have a lot of what people call “free” time. I teach, I have¬† another job, I volunteer, and oh yeah, I’m in classes as well. I also live here:

November snow

Boulder-mountains, snow, oh my

and there are very few people who look like me (specifically, mid-30s, “plus-sized,” and African American). This means, I usually exist in some state of anomie, whether low-grade and resigned, or, as of late, fluctuating between mid-range depression and full-scale rage (yeah, it really is like that).

Now, I volunteered for this assignment, so don’t cry too much for me, Argentina. It’s a little rough, but I’m almost done being chained to this place, and then maybe I can move somewhere else. Plus, I met my Sweet Intended here:

the day it happened

our first engagement pics

So all in all, not completely terribles, you know? Actually pretty good, all told. But-

Sweet Intended is not a planner-type person, and despite a political feminist stance, the living the values thing has a small gap (tiny, almost. Really, hardly noticeable- right).¬† So I am planning this thing, all by myself. My mom is not Martha (look up not Martha, she may be there). Most of my friends are either feminists who think I’m crazy for planning a wedding at all, especially to a boy; or crazy bridesmaid-zilla types who are living vicariously through me (I am probably being unkind and hyperbolic here, dear reader, so that just shows you how unreliable a narrator I am). I clearly have unresolved issues, but we’ll get to that. So then, uninvolved family, weird friends, all alone in the world…

Oh yeah, so the last thing before I go, is that I want to plan a wedding. For me. To this man. And I wouldn’t normally mind my circumstances. I am a control freak, and often deny people the opportunity to help me. But right now, because of all my other pressures, I feel like I’m drowning. And when I feel that way, I turn to work. And since my work involves all three categories we’ve briefly discussed (race, gender, sexuality), I am noting my stories, my triumphs, from now until the wedding, in the hopes that it will provide a toolkit for future brides, and some sort of analysis that will make all this work, and all these tears, and all this bitching, worth it.

We’ll see.

Hello world!

Oh yeah…an autoethnography about me…(I guess that’s suggested by auto-) getting married. Look for a lot of stuff, because almost three months in to a 12-month engagement, I am reflecting like the sociologist I am. So get ready for this ride…

I am sassy, bitter, tired, and have moments of wicked intelligence. That equals stop by, because the hilarity will ensue.

I mean it.

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