I won’t waste time here. Sanity has prevailed. My beautiful daughter has decided to get married in the mountains on Memorial Day weekend, instead of in April as she originally wanted. She’s such a clever girl.
I’d explained to her that an outdoor wedding in the mountains was fraught with a million dangers, including spiders, dust storms and lost hikers accidentally wandering through and helping themselves to a free beer. The biggest danger, though, is freezing to death, because you just can’t predict mountain weather in April.
Yes, in case you missed last week’s column (a tragic occurrence for sure), Curly Girl is getting married at the way-too-young age of 22. At least I like her fiance, unlike her previous longtime boyfriend whose only interest in life was monster trucks. My highly intelligent daughter knew way too little about Jane Austen, and way too much about the Instagram postings of monster truck drivers, during those long four years.
In any event, she’s now in love with a guy who’s adored her since 8th grade and is unlikely to change that view any time soon. That’s what I want. My daughter to be adored like the princess she is, for her beautiful heart and her brains as well as that she’s not bad looking.
They wanted to marry in April because they became engaged in April, but my attitude is that then they’re depriving themselves of two anniversaries to celebrate instead of one. Aside from this whole idea of being outdoors for five hours at sunset and later, up at 6,000 feet where the air is thin and chilly.
During our rather heated debate on this topic, I pointed out that none of those debating in favor of April had ever even been in the mountains in that month, whereas I have lived in that altitude, and I’m acquainted with cold nights and even surprise snowstorms. There is a ski resort right up the hill. I don’t want to strap on skis to get to the ceremony.
As some of you know, I was too crabby to ever get married, so this will be the only wedding I ever put on. And I don’t want to spend it shivering in a parka, especially since it’s costing me three times as much as I originally wanted to spend. And I’m pretty sure Curly Girl doesn’t want her wedding dress covered up by a coat when she walks down the aisle. She wants to look like a fairy tale princess, so I’m sure she’ll find a ballgown that will cost a king’s ransom, which I cannot afford.
She did inherit my frugal Deals Diva genes (yes, she’s adopted but, relax, it’s a metaphor), so I’m hoping we can find a used wedding dress that she’ll love. Brides spend literally thousands of dollars on dresses these days, but I refuse to buy her a dress that costs more than my 2001 Toyota Corolla is worth.
And, for those kind souls who’ll read this and offer up your dresses, note that she’s incredibly picky and always hates everything, especially if I like it.
I told my friend at a restaurant last night how much I’m spending on this wedding and she nearly spit her food across the table at me. But what can you do? That’s what things cost.
I know we could have a picnic in the park for cheap, but she’s my only daughter and I’m just glad to be alive to see her walk down the aisle, so, yes, I will take the money out of my retirement fund to do it. Even though I get stomach cramps every time I think about it. What if I live long enough to actually need that money? Let’s just hope I have that problem.
At least the place we picked is basically all-inclusive, which means that Marla Jo has to do … nothing. They provide the food, bartender, ceremony venue, DJ, flowers, tables and chairs, happy hour, even the wedding cake.
All we have to do is show up with a photographer and officiant, and they’ll even provide the officiant if we want, for an extra fee. We do have to bring our own beer and wine, which I like, because it means I won’t be paying $26 a bottle for banquet wine that I can buy at Grocery Outlet for $3. Seriously. True. And my friend Ana Venegas, who’s an amazing photographer, has volunteered to take the pictures for free.
The hardest thing I’ll have to do is diet, because I want to lose enough weight to get into this gorgeous black satin party gown that someone gave me years ago. (The wedding colors are black and white. I know. It’s a thing now.) It’s just stunning, but I’m too fat for it right now. You know you’re officially old when you’re the mother of the bride and thinking, “Gee, I don’t have to buy a new dress. I have something in the closet already.”
Anyway, the happy couple finally decided on their own to marry on Memorial Day weekend, when the weather should be a lot warmer. And, no, I’m not going to tell you exactly when and where. I know you. You people would crash and drink all the champagne.
