But not without regrets. Luckily, though, said regrets aren’t about the marriage, but the length of our honeymoon. While we know it can’t last forever, I highly recommend a three-week minimum. While 10 days seemed like a lot when we booked our flights, once you subtract two days of international travel, a few more hours for time readjustment and even more hours planning our trip on the fly (another piece of advice is to plan where you’ll be staying every night ahead of time), suddenly all those luxurious days off are dwindled down to what seemed like just a long weekend.
Obviously, this isn’t the worst problem to have, but in the realm of “First World Problems,” it’s a recipe for disaster… OK, that’s an exaggeration, too. The honeymoon was pretty much the opposite of a disaster, but going back to daily life after being stressed to the point where you’re actually now thinking Botox isn’t the worst idea ever (stress makes crazy wrinkles, ya’ll) feels pretty shitty.
Alas, such is life! Pretty shitty! (Hey, you don’t direct your browser to this blog for the optimism.)
Speaking of shitty… the bills. I am so embarrassed, but obligated to report that we went WAAAAAAAYYYYYY over budget. (Goddamn wedding dollars…) And this is considering we allotted ourselves a budget of $25,000—twenty fucking five thousand fucking dollars—and we couldn’t stay within that budget. (Although, I guess, it could’ve been worse…) The biggest bite (and you’ll get that pun now) was our catering budget, which clocked in at around $15,000. I don’t even have the exact number because that’s how organized we apparently were. I guess having an Excel spreadsheet isn’t really a useful unless you actually use it…
Yes, future bitches getting married (and I mean that lovingly and in a non-gendery kinda way), don’t rely on a broken abacus your cat dragged out of a former-Soviet elementary school dumpster to keep track of your funds. More importantly, make sure you and the person you’re planning to wed constantly communicate about who is dropping what on whatever, when, where and why. Because after the wedding, when you turn to your new spouse and say, “I can’t believe we pulled that off on our budget!” and he or she returns with, “Um… is this your first time reading numbers?” it’s kind of a buzzkill.
That said, at least the wedding is over, which means I can go back to worrying about more important things, like, how to get out of crippling debt after having a fucking ridiculously expensive wedding…
And thank you notes. Those are also very important.
Goal accomplished: our music mixer for the night, DJ G (another one I highly recommend), kept the dance floor bumpin’.