Why the hell didn't we elope? We wanted to elope - Colorado, Hawaii, and even the cliché Vegas were all screaming "Dendy-Doane Wedding pick me" at the top of their lungs. The whole take-the-money-and-run-laughing-all-the-way-to-the-bank scheme is the perfect, not to mention fiscally genius, matrimony. The two of us on a mountain exchanging our vows, or on a beach saying "I do", or making out in front of Elvis before he manages to utter "you may kiss the bride" is where it's at.
We weren't so smart.
And right about now I'm about to pull my hair out over this overblown, and ridiculously overpriced event. Don't get me wrong, I CANNOT wait to become Mrs. Doane. Buuuutttttttt, I could do without all the pomp and circumstance and the ridiculous discussions about linen lengths, cheese trays vs. fruit spreads, seating arrangements, and time lines. Lord, please help me make it to the honeymoon with at least a fraction of my sanity.
The only thing keeping me sane right now? (1) My handsome fiance. (2) Weights. Really heavy weights.