Our wedding is in like two months which somehow simultaneously sounds stressfully close and impossibly far away.
Oh, in case you stopped reading Stranger for a few years and you just suddenly returned to this post, long story short, I got a puppy, chose to become gay, got engayged to a man, and then together we formed the Cult of the Metagalactic Witches of the Fourth Order. Everyone who reads this site direct deposits their entire paycheck every two weeks into a bank account we set up to cover the cost of living for our invisible immortal leader, Liza Spinnelli. And once a year we have a potluck retreat in Ohio where we wear matching t-shirts and play a nude game of steal the flag.
Look. Normally I'm the stress case. Normally I'm the one who is like WHAT IF WE DIE and Skylar is the one who is like WHO CARES THEY HAVE CANDY and then we get into the nice man's van because I'm older and more tired so I give in.
But we are having a total role reversal here because every two hours Skylar calls me and screams into the phone indecipherable nonsense in which I occasionally make out words like "flowers" and "cake" and "Liza Spinnelli."
Last month he nearly had a nervous breakdown because we hadn't yet decided exactly how many threads would be used to hand weave a napkin no one would ever see. So he called the venue and asked if we could come have a meeting to "just go over everything."
I thought this seemed unnecessary since we made all of the big wedding decisions months ago and then planned a meeting with the venue for August to go over details, but I gave in, because old and tired. Also, I gave in because for every panic attack Skylar has about whether or not he has invited enough butterflies, I have an opposing panic attack that we haven't invited enough clowns and I'm starting to wonder if maybe I'm too trashy to be trusted to plan a wedding so maybe Skylar is right about things?
Don't tell him I proposed this as a possibility. I couldn't live with the thought that he knew I respected him.
We went and met with the venue and walked through the place. It was gorgeous, even more so than I remembered from previous visits. The venue is up in the mountains, not far from our house (about a 20-minute drive). There are waterfalls and a forest and a quaint cottage-like cabin. It was weirdly calming for both of us to walk around up there, and pretty exciting, too.
It's weird that I'm going to have a wedding. It doesn't actually seem real to me yet. Weddings? Those are things other people do. Those are things I just attend so I can eat ALL the cake. I figured for so long that I would just never get married. I was honestly fine with that, I guess because the alternative opinions seemed too exhausting. I had decided that a person doesn't need to get married to be happy or to have a fulfilling life. (I still believe that, of course.) I was almost militantly single
And now, suddenly, I'm one of those annoying people writing on the internet about waterfall venues in the mountains and saying things like "flowers" and "cake" and "Liza Spinnelli."
I don't want to brag, because Lord knows I've been on the receiving end of these monologues many many times as I shoved cake in my mouth and decided to just be fine with the fact that I would probably never get married.
But it almost feels a little ungrateful to not brag a little every now and then. So, I'm sorry if it's annoying. And I'm sorry especially to anyone out there who feels lonely. And I hope I'm not throwing salt onto any wounds. I'm just really really happy, and I'm really really excited to share it.
I'm getting married. I'm getting married to probably the best person on the planet.
Once he finishes choosing a brand for the toilet paper.
~It Just Gets Stranger