Another Horrible Date

B and I do not have a particularly romantic relationship. We don’t buy each other cards, we don’t go out on Valentine’s Day, there are no love letters, and I’ve only received flowers once. We are both completely fine with this type of relationship, so it works for us. Even when we were not married, “dates” were not something that we put a lot of effort into outside of the fact that they always involved travelling at least 400 miles because we never lived in the same city. Our last “date” or visit before we got married and moved in together (in the same city!) was our most memorable for all the wrong reasons.

Before our wedding, I was living in Atlanta finishing up my Master’s degree. B was living in Raleigh working full time. Our wedding was going to be in Florida where my family was and his family wanted to vacation. The plan was that when I graduated, I would bring the rest of my belongings up to Raleigh from Atlanta, spend a few days with B, drive down to Atlanta to pick up some wedding things, and finally drive down to Florida the day after to go to my bachelorette party and finalize wedding details. B and his family would then meet me in Florida for the wedding a week or so later.

Well, I presented my Master’s project, packed up the rest of my things, and stuffed them in my 16 year old sedan. As I got on the road, I started having issues with my car. Being the cautious driver that I am, I went to a mechanic on the outskirts of Atlanta – I had only driven about 20 miles at this point. The mechanic spent an hour or so poking around my car and basically determined that I was having an issue with a sensor and my car was safe to drive. So, I drove to Raleigh.

I spent about a week hanging out with B, unpacking my stuff, and organizing our apartment. B spent this week working on my vehicle with the input of his co-workers (all of whom are experienced mechanics). In the process, he burned the side of his face, which fortunately healed without a scar in time for our wedding. Other than the burn and the annoyance of fixing my ancient finicky vehicle which nobody ever has parts for, our time together was pretty uneventful.

Finally, I was ready to get back on the road. I was planning to drive to Atlanta, spend the night in my apartment there, and then make the rest of the trip to Florida the day after. After about three hours on the road, my car died. Completely.

It stopped working, I pulled over on the side of the road, and I couldn’t get it to start again. It smelled like burnt car. A helpful guy stopped and declared it dead for me (I already knew this). I called USAA to get the car towed to the closest mechanic shop. I freaked out.

It was about 7 pm at night. I was on the side of I-85 a few miles from Kings Mountain, NC. If you know anything about Kings Mountain – you probably don’t because there’s nothing there – it is a town with a small “mountain”, a McDonald’s, a Waffle House, three motels and one stoplight.

I called B. He, without even stopping to think, told me that he’d be there in three hours. He called his boss because he was working nights at that time and explained why he was leaving work. He also called the National Guard and asked if he could show up late for work the next day when he was scheduled to work for them. He drove home to get his military gear and drove to me.

In the meantime, I got picked up by a tow truck. I knew when I saw the “mechanic shop” that it was an oil change place and that we would have to move the car the next day, but I decided to not say anything at the time because USAA was only paying the guy to tow the car to the location we had determined on the phone. He was then kind enough to drop me off at McDonald’s.

I sat in McDonald’s with my suitcases surrounding me for almost three hours waiting for B to get there. I tried not to think about what was going to happen to my car. Eventually, the cashier started hovering and explained to me that they were closing at 11 pm. I told her that my ride should be there before then.

B pulled up around 10:40, right as I was wondering if I was going to have to sit in the parking lot waiting for him. We decided to find a place to stay. The only motel in the area that still had a non-smoking room available was the Motel 8. The next closest place to stay was Charlotte which was over an hour away.

The Motel 8 had already closed their lobby. You had to go in through a side door to a little room where you talked to the employee through a glass window. A drunk guy wandered in to buy candy from the machine while we were paying for our room.

We got the key to our non-smoking room and brought all of our belongings up. There was a cigarette butt burn on the side table. The  room smelled like smoke. The sheets were stained. We found a bug in the bed. We went to bed with our skin crawling.

We woke up the next morning and ate at Waffle House. We went to the oil and tire place and looked at the car. There was no starting it, and I was correct in my assessment that the guys there didn’t do that level of repairs. We called another tow truck and had it towed to the only mechanic shop in town. They looked at it and declared that it needed a new engine.

Now, my car was so old that you couldn’t buy a new engine because they didn’t make them anymore. We would have been paying for a junkyard engine for a 16 year old car plus all the labor required of putting in a new engine. There was a chance that the guys at the shop were lying  to us, but it definitely wouldn’t start and we were very far away from any of the other mechanics we would trust to look at it.

We called our parents for advice, and then we scrapped it. The mechanics were nice enough to give me some cash for it, I took the plate and the registration, and they said they would take it to the junkyard for us.

B and I then came up with a plan with the help of my parents. He delayed his National Guard service and drove me down to Atlanta. We spent the night there, and the next morning he dropped me off at the airport where I got on a plane with a ticket that my dad purchased for me through his rewards program.

B then drove back to Raleigh with the stuff that I had planned to bring to Florida to give to my parents, worked all weekend and then drove all the way down to Florida for our wedding with my stuff in tow.

I landed in Florida just in time for my bachelorette party without a car.

Advertisements

My Husband Forces Me to Buy Things

Part 3: The Bed

As I’ve written before, I am an irrational saver, and B is not. We have been married for a little over a year, and he has had to force me to make many purchases, big and small. I figured you might enjoy reading about these. You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

B and I received a lot of free, secondhand furniture when we got married. This was a huge blessing because it allowed me to not spend money on new furniture.

The bed we received was B’s bed which he had slept on for at least ten years although I think the bed might have been slightly older than that.

It was not a comfortable bed. It was full-sized and had a giant crater in the middle, so we always ended up on top of each other (and not in the fun way). Even worse, it was extremely squishy. I have back pain that is exacerbated by sleeping on squishy beds.

Before we ever got married, we agreed that we would get a new bed once we both had regular work and the money for it.

This past spring, we had the jobs and the money, but I didn’t want to buy the bed just yet. B came home one day and told me that he had seen signs for a a mattress store’s closeout sale. I grumbled about how even sale beds are expensive. (I had seen the signs too, but I had ignored them).

He finally convinced me that going to look wouldn’t hurt our savings. I was grumpy the entire car ride over. He called me out on it and threatened to go to the store without me like he did for my car. I started in on a rant about how “sale” doesn’t always mean that you actually save money. He mostly ignored me and told me to calm down because we weren’t even in the store yet and hadn’t committed to anything.

We walked into the store and a saleslady approached us. She asked us what we were looking for. We explained that B loved to sleep on marshmallows, and I loved to sleep on the floor. She told us she had the perfect queen-sized bed for us which had one firm side and one soft side. As she showed it to us, I noticed it was priced at over $5,000, and before I could protest, she told me she’d give us the bed and boxspring for $600. We had managed to go in on the very last weekend that the store was open, and they were practically giving away the mattresses that were left. B and I laid on it for about three seconds before we agreed to buy it.

We took it home. B slept peacefully on his mush, while I did not sleep. I did some research on the mattress we had bought and found all the horrible complaints about it and all the criticisms of boxspring mattresses in general. I eventually fell asleep. The next morning, I called my mom and asked her to reassure me that it wasn’t a horrible decision to buy a bed. She did just that, and I slept much better the next night.

Sometimes, I let him on the bed. He's staring outside, looking for dogs to bark at. #foxhound

A post shared by Rebekah Callari-Kaczmarczyk (@theadventuresofbeka) on Apr 25, 2017 at 1:34pm PDT

It’s not the best mattress in the world, but it is worlds better than the one we had before and it didn’t kill us to spend the money.

Besides, where else can you buy a new bed that is both firm and soft for only $600?

My Husband Forces Me to Buy Things

 

Part 2: The Car

As I’ve written before, I am an irrational saver, and B is not. We have been married for a little over a year, and he has had to force me to make many purchases, big and small. I figured you might enjoy reading about these. You can read Part 3 here and Part 1 here.

Last year, on my way to Florida for our wedding, my car exploded on the side of the road. B had to heroically rescue me, and we said goodbye to the car that my parents had bought me.

For almost six years this car got me to Florida, Georgia and North Carolina, but it no longer will. Goodbye little car. I'll miss your window that doesn't let the door close and your inability to go up hills.

A post shared by Rebekah Callari-Kaczmarczyk (@theadventuresofbeka) on May 5, 2016 at 4:17pm PDT

It was very poor timing, and B and I decided that we could live with just his truck until I was working full time.

Although this was our decision, B started looking at cars immediately. (He continued to look for almost 11 months). Last January, I got “full-time” work, which means I cobbled together four part time jobs, and I started driving over 500 miles a week.

I was filling up our truck twice a week, and I died a little inside every time I printed my gas receipt.

When I was looking over February’s expenses, I realized that we were spending so much money in gas that we would almost break even by taking on a car payment and increased car insurance. That night, I came home from work and before I could say anything to B, he said, “We need to buy a car.”

I said, “Ok.”

“Well, I’m glad you said yes because I was ready to fight with you about it.”

We sat down and figured out how much we wanted to spend. He asked me what I wanted. I told him I wanted something fuel efficient that would last and that I didn’t really care about anything else. I then left the rest to B.

He had the time of his life (he is a diesel mechanic and loves machines and vehicles). He scoured the internet for almost two weeks and sent me a constant stream of cars which all looked the same to me. I looked at most of them to be polite, but did not find the process nearly as thrilling as he did.

Then HE FOUND IT. The deal. The perfect car. He was so excited I was at work at the time and took one look at about ten of the twenty five photos he sent me, which looked almost exactly like all of the other photos he had sent me.

(I’m not car savvy, and pretty much all cars look like this clipart car to me).

Because of my crazy work schedule, he did everything. He called or texted me at each step to check in. He called the seller. He test drove the car. He set up the loan. He bought the car. We met up after I was done working, and I drove it home.

I had a panic attack that night and called my mom the next day to have her reassure me that we weren’t irresponsible with our money.

Yet again, he was right. I don’t love the car as much as I love my dog, but I do recognize that it was a well-timed purchase which was a great deal – he got the car for almost $2,000 less than its sale price because the dealer was trying to get rid of it and accidentally mislabeled it. When I calculated our expenses for April (when I had driven the car for a full month), I found that our net vehicle expenses had risen by less than $100/month and that doesn’t factor in all the money and time that we had previously lost because we were limited to only one vehicle.

My Worst Second Date

I don’t write about my dating life that often because, let’s face it, I never really had one. My first serious, long-term relationship was with B. Plus, I don’t like sharing personal information that is too close to the present because I like my privacy. This date happened a while back, so I feel that it’s time to share it.

Mandatory artsy hipster shot from last night at Eddie's Attic.

A post shared by Rebekah Callari-Kaczmarczyk (@theadventuresofbeka) on Nov 2, 2013 at 8:13am PDT

When I lived in Atlanta, I met a guy at Eddie’s Attic which is one of my favorite music venues. We exchanged numbers, talked for a bit, hung out together with some of his friends, and then went on a date. This first date involved burning trash, listening to records, drinking bourbon, petting a dog, and eating food that his mother had made (his mother was not present). It was the perfect mixture of strange and interesting where I wasn’t sure how it was all going to end, but I wanted to see where things would go because I knew it would be interesting. I got sick soon after this date, and he told me to call him once I felt better so that we could get together again.

Well, my body had the worst timing. When I called him to let him know I was feeling better, he informed me that his father had just passed away. Of course, I was sympathetic and offered my assistance, assuming he wouldn’t take me up on it.

Instead, he invited me to the funeral.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t really know this guy. We weren’t dating. We had gone on one date. I felt horrible for him, but I didn’t know if my presence at the funeral as an acquaintance was actually going to help him feel better. I did the only thing I knew to do in these situations – I called my mom.

She encouraged me that it would probably be a big funeral and that he wouldn’t invite me if he didn’t want me there. She told me I could go, sit in the back, give him a hug and walk out.

That didn’t sound too bad. I checked with her what was appropriate funeral attire, and then I planned for an uncomfortable experience.

As I drove up to the funeral, I realized it was at the cemetery. As I walked up, I realized that it was not a big, open funeral. There were less than 30 people there. Everyone had known the deceased well. Everyone knew each other. I slipped into a seat in the back and hoped no one noticed me.

After the funeral, I went up to give my hug and walk out. Instead, the guy asked me to come to the reception where everyone was going to eat oysters and tell stories about the deceased whom I had never met. I didn’t even know the father’s name before the funeral.

I felt trapped (and I couldn’t call my mother). I reluctantly agreed. He started introducing me to his family who all commented on how lovely I was. He introduced me to his three childhood friends who were present. I started sweating. Then I felt guilty for feeling uncomfortable. The guy had just lost his father after all.

I went to the reception. I sat with his friends. They asked me lots of questions and tried to determine if I was suitable girlfriend material. I didn’t know whether or not to explain that I was definitely not anywhere near being a girlfriend.

After a suitable amount of discomfort and good food, I felt that it would be okay to head out. I went over to say goodbye, and the guy asked me to stay. He made me wait until everyone had left and took this time to introduce me to his grandma. Then he said goodbye and thanked me for coming.

I drove away still very sweaty.

If you’re wondering how our third date went, there never was one. He asked me for some space as he grieved the death of his father, which I gave him. A few weeks later, he asked me for nude photos, and I sent him pictures of my skinned up knees instead.

11 days later. I will spare you the "before" picture. #transformationtuesday

A post shared by Rebekah Callari-Kaczmarczyk (@theadventuresofbeka) on Apr 15, 2014 at 4:03pm PDT

 

My Husband Forces Me to Buy Things

Part 1: The Dog*

As I’ve written before, I am an irrational saver, and B is not. We have been married for a little over a year, and he has had to force me to make many purchases, big and small. I figured you might enjoy reading about these.

My timeline for May of 2016 was move my stuff to North Carolina, graduate, get married in Florida, go on my honeymoon and then live in North Carolina. Before May, I had become accustomed to an unsustainable and frenzied level of activity, and when I moved to NC, I did not adjust well. B worked nights, I knew no one in the area, and I had nothing to do except for some part time work. By July, I was sitting on the couch every day and refusing to get dressed while I endlessly searched for and applied to jobs.

One day, I made the mistake of sending B a picture of a shelter dog. We had previously agreed that we would wait to get a dog until I had more stable work. This picture changed B’s mind. He started seriously looking at dogs. I told him he was crazy.

Then, he found out that the next weekend was a huge event where all the shelters would waive adoption fees. He told me, “That’s it. We’re getting a dog.”

I protested.

He said yes.

I referenced the budget spreadsheet and said no again.

He told me that I needed something to care for because my part-time work wasn’t fulfilling enough.

I sighed.

He explained that my flexible schedule was perfect because it would allow our new dog to adjust to life with us.

“Fine, we can look, but we aren’t getting a puppy.”

“We aren’t just going to look. We are getting a dog.”

Then we saw Clark. Clark was a 7-year old American Foxhound with a type IV/VI heart murmur whose previous owner had passed away. Most importantly, there was something about him that looked like the dog I grew up with.

He ATE MY CAR REGISTRATION.

A post shared by Rebekah Callari-Kaczmarczyk (@theadventuresofbeka) on May 22, 2017 at 11:13am PDT

The night before the shelter event, we went to bed in two very different states of mind. B slept peacefully, probably dreaming of all the happy moments he was going to have with his new dog. I did not sleep for hours. I was consumed by anxiety, wondering whether or not we were making a horrible decision.

The next morning, I told B, “I’m not sure about this. Maybe we should wait.”

“Let’s go. You need a dog.”

A #foxhound is an expert lounger when he isn't destroying things, stealing food or demanding exercise.

A post shared by Rebekah Callari-Kaczmarczyk (@theadventuresofbeka) on Apr 17, 2017 at 3:25pm PDT

The story of Clark and his first day with us is too long for this post, but I will tell you that B was absolutely right. I did need a dog. I have never regretted B’s decision (because let’s face it, it was his decision) – not even when Clark ate my car registration, but again, that’s another story.

*Technically, Clark wasn’t a purchase. We got him for free from the SPCA of Wake County. That being said, dogs are big financial commitments, so I count him under “purchases”.

This Year’s Project

Anyone who knows us knows that B and I are two very different people. One of the ways in which B and I differ is money.

I am a saver to my very core. I track down every dollar that goes in and out of our account. I feel a great deal of guilt if we “break even” one month instead of putting money away in savings (no matter what the circumstances). I hate most forms of shopping, and I hate interest.

B, on the other hand, feels no guilt about money. He’s not a mindless spender nor is he obsessed with luxury, but he does not feel guilt when we eat out or he signs up for a monthly music subscription. He also does not watch our accounts. It drives him crazy that I regularly question his spending habits because I want to KNOW what’s going on. B loves shopping for household items. He dragged me kicking and screaming to buy a bed we desperately needed, he dragged me to the shelter to get a dog, and I wasn’t even present when he bought “my” car.

So, when it comes to finances, we have to compromise. I would happily go on a cash budget that limits all of our incidental spending and go without any form of digital entertainment to save a few dollars, but B would be miserable. B would love to buy more tools, but he knows that I’m not comfortable with his preferred level of spending.

Recently, we have come up with some goals that have pulled B further on my side of the spectrum. We have some things we would like to save for, and B is willing to make more cuts. So, I pulled out my spreadsheet of this year’s monthly expenses. B and I then discussed how we can save more. Without going into numbers, I’m going to give that to you here.

Expenses that we have already changed:

• Internet – I dropped our plan to the bare minimum.
• Cell phone bill – I dropped some of the fancy stuff off our plan a few months ago. We won’t be upgrading anytime soon. Once our contract is up, I have a company in mind that we can switch too.
• Insurance – I’ve called and verified that everything we have is worth what we pay.
• Dog – We aren’t giving him up. We pretty much just pay his medical bills and feed him at this point. He has enough toys and beds to last him a few years because he’s not destructive of his own things. I’ve learned to keep all my own things out of his reach because he will destroy them and cost me more money.
• Digital entertainment – This is all B. I have already convinced him to drop quite a bit of this. He is clinging to what we have left.
• Health care – B now drives out to the VA where he gets free healthcare every time he needs anything.

Areas that need to change:

• Gifts – B and I can spend less on each other this next year. This means no more tattoos for a while (sob). We already only buy for each other for birthday and Christmas.
• Household – Some of these things can easily be avoided (I now know how fast my car is and don’t accidentally speed anymore), and some of them are still necessary (I’m not living without toilet paper or cleaning supplies). This is an area we can work to improve because there’s a lot that we “need” but could probably live without especially apartment related. I plan to not buy clothing or shoes this next year. I’ve put a monthly limit on this area that should accommodate needs but not most wants.
• Food – This is where almost all of our excess spending occurs. We are going to go on a cash budget that will be divided into three categories: groceries, food out together, and food out separate. B spends too much money on snacks and soda at gas stations, and I spend too much money at coffee shops.  We will also cut down on our “I don’t feel like cooking” expenses.

Obviously, another way to save money is to make more of it. B and I are both planning on picking up extra hours at work, but this is limited for us because we both already work overtime on a regular basis.

So there you have it. Starting July 9th, we will be working to spend less. Maybe I’ll update you on this, maybe I won’t.

Any suggestions on gluten free meals that are easy, cheap and healthy?

How I Said “No” to the Dress

Wow. It’s definitely been a while since I blogged. I would love to give a legitimate excuse, but I don’t have one. Perhaps I’ll start posting again; maybe I won’t.

Although I’ve now been married almost a year (!), I felt that this post needed to be shared.

If you followed my previous posts, or rants as I called them, you know that in many ways I didn’t want a traditional wedding. Plus, I didn’t want to spend the “average” amount on anything. I wanted to spend less.

So, I sought wedding attire that wasn’t poofy, reminiscent of a Barbie cake or more than $200. B decided he wanted to wear something rather formal, so I had to find something formal too because I did want us to coordinate.

I started with shopping online in the fall before the big day. I found a dress for about $120 that I liked. When I had it shipped to the store, it fit. I took it home to my parents’ house.

Enter a caption

A few months later, I had lost a few pounds and was nervous that the dress might not fit anymore. I tried it on, and the zipper broke. I returned the dress and freaked out about the prospect of a wardrobe malfunction the day of my wedding. I ordered a replacement of the dress, but I started searching for another dress.

While out with my sister, I found a dress that was even cheaper ($90). She convinced me to buy it, and so I took it home.

The problem with this dress was that it would have required Spanx and absolutely no weight gain before the big day. This sounded stressful. I left the dress in my parents’ closet next to the other one, but I kept looking.

Then, I found a skirt on sale that was perfect ($30). I bought the skirt immediately and soon found a shirt to go with it ($40). My poor mother was tasked with returning all my previous purchases, and she made me swear that I wouldn’t change my mind and buy anything else. I didn’t.

In trying to keep things simple and cheap, I may have over-complicated the dress process a bit…

Photo credit for the last photo goes to Small Things Photo Co. who is amazing.

[Wedding rants] Part 5: Achievements

Those of you who know me personally know that I rant. A lot. These rants are usually long-winded and excessive, and I expect that you listen quietly while I yell them at you. I’ve decided to share these with you (this “you” being my blog audience), so that you can “enjoy” them too since wedding planning has brought a whole new batch of frustrations to my life.

Enjoy 😉.

Part 5: Getting married is not an achievement.

As a female in her early twenties, I have received a lot of positive feedback about the fact that I am getting married in May. In typical “Beka” fashion, I have responded by getting grumpy. Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that people are happy about my circumstances. I am just disappointed in how I feel society views my upcoming marriage.

People act so impressed about the fact that I am getting married. Many people seem to treat it as some sort of accomplishment on the part of B and I. I also feel that there is this societal idea in the U.S. that it’s a big deal. Now, I do think that getting married is a big deal. I just don’t think that it should go on the list of things I’ve achieved. Getting married actually isn’t that difficult. In order to get married, an individual just has to find another individual and they have to mutually agree to sign a piece of paper. There isn’t a whole lot of “doing”. There’s a lot of chemistry, circumstances, patience, waiting (at times), self-love, and dates, but it’s not actually that difficult of a process.

Staying married on the other hand is a huge accomplishment. I think it’s our parents who deserve all the “congrats” that B and I have received. They’ve remained married through life changes, illness, children and more. We, on the other hand, have dated for a year and a half. I think the only remotely impressive part of that is that we’ve been long distance the whole time. We are still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship where misunderstandings are funny.

In some ways, I feel like I have been cheated out of the recognition due to me for things I have actually accomplished this year. Most people are so focused on the fact that I’m getting married in May that they don’t even acknowledge the fact that I’m also graduating Master’s degree. This frustrates me because I’ve worked three years for this degree and selfishly, I want to be told I did a good job in my studies instead of listening to people coo over my wedding colors.

I know that many people are congratulating me on my upcoming marriage because they are excited that I am happy, and that’s great. I just don’t like that in the process I am beginning to feel like society views my marriage as a bigger accomplishment than my Master’s degree or any of the other things I have worked towards in the past few years. Plus, I know that only a few people are going to take their time in a few years to acknowledge the fact that B and I will still be married despite the difficulties of marriage. Obviously, I don’t do these things, whether it’s my upcoming marriage, my education or the maintenance of my marriage in the future, to receive recognition, but that doesn’t mean I’m not feeling frustrated about society’s view of my accomplishments.

So, if you’re going to congratulate me on my upcoming marriage, congratulate me on my upcoming graduation too ;).

P.S. Getting pregnant isn’t an accomplishment either. That’s just biology which we have very little control over. The hard part is raising a child.

[Wedding rants] Part 4: The Bridezilla

Those of you who know me personally know that I rant. A lot. These rants are usually long-winded and excessive, and I expect that you listen quietly while I yell them at you. I’ve decided to share these with you (this “you” being my blog audience), so that you can “enjoy” them too since wedding planning has brought a whole new batch of frustrations to my life.

Enjoy 😉.

Part 4: My wedding is not about me.

U.S. society today oftentimes encourages a focus on the self. “Do what’s best for you.” “The most important thing is that you look out for yourself.” “Do what makes YOU happy.” Although I think these statements do have some relevance in certain situations, I think that we, as a society, can tend to be too selfish and self-centered. Life isn’t all about me despite the fact that I often wish it was.

This idea of entitlement and focus on the self has definitely transferred over to wedding planning. There is this stereotypical idea of the “bridezilla”: the bride who is completely psycho and desperate to make everything EXACTLY how she wants it on HER day. There is also the idea that the bride plans the wedding, and the groom shows up. I have been repeatedly told by well-meaning individuals that it is MY day and I should thus do what makes ME happy. Now, I agree with this to an extent. It is my day. But, it is not just my day. It is B’s day too. And, to some extent, it is also my family’s day and his family’s day (they raised us after all, and it’s the least I can do to make sure that they are comfortable and accommodated as needed).

In planning our wedding, I have been careful to discuss it as OUR wedding. It is not MY wedding. I am not marrying myself. I am marrying B. The  very fact that we are having a wedding at all is because B wanted one. I had no intentions of having an actual wedding ceremony, but I was willing to bend and actually have one because it was important to B. At the beginning, we discussed the “big picture” of the wedding, and we determined how we wanted to spend the money given to us. We decided that we wanted to use the money given us to cover the wedding and at least part of the honeymoon. I then decided just exactly how much went to stamps vs. decorations because B really didn’t care about that. I also asked B what elements of a wedding were important to him and how he felt about things like timing, food, and music.

 

One of B’s few requests was steak and potatoes if possible.

In our relationship, I am the planner. I am the detail-oriented one who creates the budget spreadsheets in Excel and worries about the little things. B is more relaxed and tends to prefer to only have a say in the “big” things. So, I am the one who created the wedding budget, I picked out the color swatches and then had B decide between two sets (after B told me he liked the idea of blue), and I have managed most of the subsequent details. That being said, I have checked in with B along the way to ensure that our wedding will be what he wants too.

I actually get excited by looking at numbers and formulas in Excel. B does not.

This was pretty much our system for everything except the honeymoon which B did all the details for after we mutually agreed on a location. B and I would discuss “big picture” things, I would do the details work, and then I would ask him to help me make any decisions I thought he would care about. I knew he really didn’t care about invitations or decorations, so I just sent him final photos of those things (although he could have added his opinion at that point if there was something he really didn’t like). I told him that I had no opinion on what we wore, so he could decide what he wanted to wear and I would determine what I was wearing based on that.

This is the only style I can think of that I really would have tried to dissuade B from wearing. Fortunately, this isn’t what he came up with.

In the same way, because of how small our wedding party is, I let my maid of honor (my sister and only bridesmaid) and both my mother and my future mother-in-law pick what they wanted to wear after B and I had chosen a color/theme. We didn’t have to worry about a whole bunch of people matching, so I figured it was more important that everyone was happy and comfortable in what they were wearing. We may not all match as perfectly as other bridal parties I’ve seen, but everyone is going to coordinate and like what they are wearing, which is way more important to me.

There will be nothing like this at our wedding.

The idea that, as the bride, I have the right to dictate what colors our decorations are or what type of outfit B wears really bothers me. I feel like that’s a really unhealthy way to set up a marriage. It is not MY day. It’s our day.

 

Note: This post is not a judgement of any bride whose wedding I’ve helped with. All my friends have been quite lovely about this sort of thing actually, and I enjoyed helping them celebrate their big days.

[Wedding rants] Part 3: Tradition

Those of you who know me personally know that I rant. A lot. These rants are usually long-winded and excessive, and I expect that you listen quietly while I yell them at you. I’ve decided to share these with you (this “you” being my blog audience), so that you can “enjoy” them too since wedding planning has brought a whole new batch of frustrations to my life.

Enjoy 😉.

Part 3: Meaningless traditions are useless to me.

I have never been one to embrace tradition. Part of this is from my upbringing, and part of it is from my personality. My family’s tradition is to open our Christmas presents on Christmas Eve, which is definitely not the norm in U.S. culture. I went to all of my high school proms with my best friend as my date. I did not care that I identified as straight, and my best friend was a girl. I also wore Converse to prom one year (that was the most comfortable outfit I ever wore to prom).

I love tradition that carries meaning to me personally and that also fits into my lifestyle. I reject it when it means nothing to me and/or is inconvenient/expensive/etc. So, when I started wedding planning,  I created a list of all the wedding traditions. I then went through the list with B and had him tell me which ones he cared about. Here are just some of the things we decided to pitch.

Gold-foiled invitations: Actually, I love this tradition, and I think they are beautiful. That being said, the $4+/invite deterred me from even considering it. B was not even interested in helping me pick out invites.

I wanted these in blue from minted.com, but they were wayyyy out of my budget. 

Bachelorette party with strippers and alcohol: Why? This does not sound in the least bit fun to me. It never been something I wanted to do. I don’t really like drinking, and I definitely have no interest in watching people take their clothing off. I would rather get ice cream and walk the beach. Also, I’m inviting my mom because I love hanging out with her and my friends love her too.

❤ ice cream.

Saying “yes” to the dress: My family and most of my closest friends live in FL. I live in GA. I hate being pressured to buy things, and I had no interest in what bridal shops could offer me within my price range (under $150). I bought four successive outfits before I figured out exactly what I wanted. I received all but $6 back, and I didn’t stress everyone else out in the process.

A white wedding dress: I look horrible in white. I have extremely pale skin, and white just makes me look paler. I do better in something with some warmer undertones to it like cream, ivory or nude. I also did not want to pay wedding prices for a dress I would wear once. B looked confused when I asked his opinion and said he didn’t care what I wore. I’ve settled on a skirt and shirt combo that are wedding-ish but don’t make me look like a Barbie cake. Plus, they cost me under $100 and can be worn separately afterwards and not look like bridal attire.

Not my wedding dress

Real flowers: I LOVE real flowers, but I didn’t want to pay upwards of $400 for a bouquet I would do nothing with afterwards that was grown in poor working conditions. I don’t have the capacity nor the ability to grow large quantities of flowers myself. I made all of the flowers that we are using (bouquets, table decorations, and boutonnieres) from an old book that I bought at Goodwill.

The first dance: B hates to dance. I love to dance salsa, merengue, cumbia, East Coast swing…I’m not a fan of the waltz, and I abhor standing in front of a large group of people and swaying back and forth. Plus, a dance floor was going to cost us at least an extra $500 (the space doesn’t allow for dancing without one), and the majority of our guests are not really into dancing of any kind.

Wedding cake: I am gluten free (not by choice, might I add). Neither of us think cake is the best thing ever. The restaurant we are eating at is serving cannolis, tiramisu and gelato. Why do we need an overpriced cake too? I am trying to find gluten free cannolis though. Cannolis were my favorite dessert before I learned that I couldn’t eat gluten.

Pure deliciousness

The bouquet/garter toss: There will be at most a total of 6 single people of marrying age at our wedding. So, let me single them out to throw things at them that I have to buy specifically to throw…I would rather not. Besides, I have no interest in wearing a garter. They look itchy, and B already said he won’t be disappointed that I don’t wear one.

A jetsetting honeymoon: In the six weeks before the wedding, I have to present at an academic conference in Baltimore, present my M.A. paper, submit final grades for the class I teach, submit my own final papers, move all of my belongings to NC, and then drive all the way to FL and finalize wedding prep. After the wedding, I am going to want to sleep for a very long time. I LOVE international travel, but I enjoy it most when I have the energy and time to explore. I want a restful honeymoon, and staying stateside and visiting a place we know will allow me that much needed rest.

Are you wondering what’s left to our wedding now that we’ve thrown out so many traditions? Well, we are going to have a simple, fairly traditional ceremony (the bridal party is all family and almost all of the guests are family too), and then we are going to eat at a restaurant. Short and sweet.

Bonus: it’s all within our budget too.