Wedding Planning – or not

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This is a picture from the second week of January when I decided to bite the bullet and throw myself wholeheartedly into this wedding planning lark. Being a keen organiser (read – uses lots of stationery to procrastinate from doing the thing that’s supposed to be organised), I went shopping at the local Ryman and invested in a large pink folio, twenty pastel coloured dividers, some sepia coloured paper and an A3 2014 planner. I printed a to-do list from the internet, crossed out the things that I was very unlikely to need to do (arrange a videographer/interview wedding singers – that sort of thing) and put it in the folder.

Someone at work very kindly brought me an amazing book which even though I’m not naturally crafty has made me decide that I definitely need flowers in teacups on the tables a la –

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So I dreamt last night that it was my wedding day. The problem in the dream was that I nothing had been organised – hardly anyone turned up, there was nothing to eat, we had no idea what to do in the ceremony and I was getting married in a nightie that I had as a child. I asked my Mum to find the petticoat, which I dream thought would make it less nightie-ish but she just said she didn’t know where it was. By the end of the dream, I was crying a lot and moaning at the husband to be and perked up when I saw some people walking in for the reception who I dream thought I had forgotten to invite – in fact now I think of it, a part of the dream featured me writing a fax in crayon and sending it to their office. A great new idea for wedding stationers no?

I think my brain’s trying to tell me to do some wedding planning. That nice folder, magazine and book are stranded in various parts of the house, and there’s only four months to go. Hmm.

Some bits – the important bits are done –

  • Dress
  • Ceremony venue
  • Reception venue
  • Catering
  • Save the dates sent
  • Seat covers (they’re an actual thing to do)

Am sure there must be more…

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About 1000-blank-pages

Meant-to-be-a-writer-but-doesn't-even-blog 31 year old who keeps meaning to do "something"
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