Our Invitations Have Arrived! (Groom With A View)
One day last week, two boxes were delivered from Minted.com: our invitations had arrived! They were addressed to Evin who was at work. But, hey, “it's my wedding too," I thought. So I sat at the kitchen table and opened up the boxes. They really were more beautiful than when I had seen them on the web site. As I sat there inspecting them, there really was no doubt — despite the 800,000 decisions, the checks, the endless research, and the 372 conversations about this, that, and the other thing — that we are getting married.
The design is called; “midnight vineyard." And there's a fun, festive feeling to it. The color is plum (an inside joke between Evin and me). They're simple, elegant, and don't scream COME TO OUR WEDDING! COME TO OUR WEDDING! Then I started thinking logistically.
We're going to need to solidify the guest list. And then these invitations will need to be assembled. I will volunteer to go to the post office to buy stamps when this happens. All of these ideas ran through my head before I remembered that I had not even told Evin that they had arrived.
Note to future grooms: Ignore the impulse to joke to your fiance via text message that our names had been spelled incorrectly on our wedding invitations.
When Evin came home we gushed over our invitations before I reminded her that we needed to decide who would be getting one. (Yes, in our relationship, I'm the bucket of cold water after a long, peaceful nights sleep.) A list had been made but it really was just a jumping-off point, nothing written in stone. A wish list, really. Get the point? Evin opened her computer and we looked at the spreadsheet slash guest list she had created.
The following is word for word the conversation that followed:
Me: (points to a name) Who are these people?
Evin: Really good friends of (insert family member's name here).
Me: Have I met them?
Me: When was the last time you saw them?
Evin: (thinks for a long, long time) Um—
Me: Had we met yet when you last saw them?
Evin: (repeats the question to stall for time) “Had we met yet when…"
Me: Who was President when you last saw them?
Evin: (still thinking) “President? Of the United States?"
Me: No, the President of Uganda.
Evin: That's a tough question.
Me: No, it's not that tough. Let me try it this way. When you last saw them, had the internet been invented?
Evin: Okay, what's your point?
Me: I think we need to have a rule that if we haven't seen them in the previous year, no invitation.
Evin: (laughs wildly, then kisses me) You're so naive. It's really cute.
Me: There's a lot of people on this list that I've never even heard of before.
Evin: They won't come. I promise.
Me: “I promise?" Is that all you have? If they do decide to come, they're sitting in their car because there will not be room for them.
Evin: They won't come.
Me: I'm writing about this. Do they read my blog?
Evin: I don't even read your blog.
For the rest of the night we debated the guest list. I'd like to say that the guest list is complete. That we know for sure who will be invited. That the method by which we got to this point was effortless and polite. That this most difficult, incredibly complicated aspect of getting married is done. And that we assembled, put stamps on, and dropped the the invitations off at the post office. I'd like to say this. But sadly, I can not. To be continued.