We just got back from my cousin's wedding in San Antonio (I told you we're the two most wedding-goingest people this year). It was great fun—lots of booze and good food mixed with my crazy alcoholic uncles.
It's actually good that our wedding isn't for six months—it will give everyone in my family a chance to detox. But it was also strange. I couldn't help but think that the next time I see most of those people will be at my own wedding.
I don't know that you ever get used to the idea of getting married. The initial shock and excitement of being engaged certainly fades after time, but it's still hard to process that I'm getting married. That Fred will be my husband.
When my cousin and his new wife were saying their vows, I got butterflies. When they held each other during their first dance, Fred leaned over and whispered, "That will be us soon."
It's so surreal. I mean, I think I knew my whole life that I would probably get married one day, but now that it's actually here, it's hard to believe. My mom e-mailed me this morning to go over some of the more important details we have yet to hammer out. Fred and I are going to visit them in Savannah in a few weeks to finalize the dj, flowers and cake so she wanted to get all her ducks in a row.
I read through the itemized list, making mental notes about what I needed to do and then got to the last line.
"And maybe you should think about pushing up your reception to the afternoon so your uncles don't get so out of control."
I started dying laughing. Getting married is strange and surreal—but the party is going to be a ton of fun.