Nightmare Before the Wedding

Before I give anyone a heart attack, let me preface this with IT WAS ALL A DREAM, a very, very bad dream…I don’t want to scare anyone, but I almost titled this “The Wedding is Off” (GASP!) because that’s what I awoke thinking when the clock struck 1:00AM this morning. Let me explain:

* * *

It all felt so real. There we were, at the head of the altar in the midst of the ceremony. Everything was perfect – The sun was shining, weather was great, Andy was gorgeous, the music was beautiful, my dress was stunning. I was standing there listening to Pastor Gary, looking at Andy and out at all our friends and family all weepy-eyed. It was the most perfect moment in my life.

Until I heard “the rings please?”

Smiling like a sap, I look over to Andy, realizing he had turned into this dim-witted Ken Doll, “Oh, yeah….um, I forgot. I need to pick them up at the jewelers. They’re being sized.” And so we took an intermission as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Our guest sat happily in faint murmers of conversation as we excused ourselves like it was totally part of the plan.

I sat in the “bridal chambers” (whatever THAT is!) while Andy ran to town to get the rings. Apparently I had some sort of omniscient view because I could see the guest in the chapel, and Andy going to get the rings, all while I sat stressed out away from everyone.

Suddenly I was joined by Andy & Pastor Gary. “They’re not done,” says Andy nervously.

“What do you MEAN they’re not done?” I demand, Bridezilla slowly taking over.

“Well, the store closes at 10PM and the rings won’t be ready for pickup until then,” Andy explains.

You’ve got to be kidding me, I think. With my magical viewing capabilities (that somehow never tipped me off that I was dreaming) I could see all 200+ guests patiently waiting like this little breaks in the ceremony happened all the time. In a calm, but low and steady voice I tell Andy, who had become this not-so-smart-guy, “Go get the rings. They will fit well enough. We’ll fix it later. GET the rings and get back here NOW!”

Off he goes as I wait with my magical viewing powers watching the entire story unfold as though I’ve got internal picture-in-picture view. (Maybe I’m watching too much TV before bed??)

Sitting there alone, I can tell Andy is not able to get the rings. The store will not help him for whatever reason. He must wait until closing time. I can feel Andy move into what he calls MSH (Make Stuff Happen) mode. And I get a sickly feeling about it.

Like in a movie, I see the hands of the clock turn in high speed…5 minutes, 10 minutes, a half hour, and hour. Meanwhile our guests are still happily chatting, just waiting for us to return and finish the ceremony. All of a sudden, Andy proudly bursts through the door, out thrusts his clenched fist that hold two handmade beaded watches made from cheap pink and clear acrylic beads. A price tag of $300 dangles from each one.

“WHAT are those??” I ask, my stomach turning, brow sweating.

“Well,” Andy begins, “I can’t get the rings until 10PM tonight so I did the next best thing. I bought us these nice watches to use instead.” He was so proud of himself; he truly thought he saved the day.

“WHAT????” I scream. “You bought $5 beaded watches to use in place of wedding rings, are you kidding me?” In FULL Bridezilla mode now.

“No, see they were three hun–” I cut him off as he shoves the price tags in my face. He was totally not getting it…he thought because he PAID $300 they were WORTH $300. Not true. A crafter such as myself could recognize those cheap materials anywhere. And who was he fooling?? He was going to wear a pink acrylic watch and cherish it forever??? WHAT was going on???

“Like I said,” I repeated, “you bought $5 watches to use in place of our wedding rings? You better not have paid $300 each for those things. Those are craft projects. Take them back immediately and get your money back.”

Andy, all smiles and with a bit smug look as though saying Aha! I KNEW that was coming, proudly boasts “I knew you were going to say that. So I told the girl to keep the receipt; I can’t return them. We’ll have to use them, come on, it will be fine. Let’s just go finish this.”

I. Am. Livid. Not only are we out our perfect ceremony with our wedding rings, now we are also out another $600 and we still had no wedding rings.

My mind is racing. I consult our wedding program that distinctly says we are about to bless and exchange rings. Still, I wonder, can we really use watches? Will they work? Will anyone notice? Will anyone care? I am desperate at this point, and a complete emotional wreck. I love him to death, I appreciate that he was trying to fix the situation, but then I became furious when I realized the important symbolism of wedding rings in a wedding ceremony, NOT cheaply-made-yet-expensive-to-buy wedding watches. My blood was BOILING.

I sent him out once again to get the rings as I turned into this Incredible Hulk-of-a-bride…screaming, punching through walls, tearing out plaster and lath, just making a huge mess of things. (Somehow I was transported to a house that was supposed to be home. Perhaps I was reliving the days of remodeling of our kitchen?)

Then, it turned into this weird kind of game; my chipper friend/personal attendant, Renee, moved like a robot through doors and windows telling me it was going to be ok. My goal was to shove her and her sunny disposition out and lock the door/window behind her before she could get back in. We had several doors and windows so we went through this crazy routine repeatedly until I blocked every last entry way and kept her out. Once alone I continued to cry, scream, and punch through walls.

Then I was magically transported to various locations and scenarios as I cried and cried thinking how much I wanted to marry Andy and how my fairytale of a life was crumbling before my eyes. I WANTED to be able to continue the ceremony, but HOW could we if we didn’t have rings? I thought we could improvise, change the ceremony, use other rings, not use rings at all. I was flooded with emotions thinking about the months of planning I had put into the wedding. All the time and money spent on projects from big to small. The one and only thing I asked Andy to do is take care of the rings. And here we are, still on “intermission” mind you, scrambling to think of a way to wrestle our rings back from the jeweler that is holding them hostage. And nobody thinks this is a problem but me.

Suddenly I’m an airport diner (don’t ask…I have no idea.) This waitress, straight off the set of Mel’s diner (remember the show Alice??) with bouffant hair and tiny little scalloped apron over her dress, walks over with a half pot of lukewarm coffee, cigarette hanging out of her mouth, approaching this sobbing heap of bridal mess (that’s me) and says, “Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Upon closer examination of the running mascara, falling updo, and full wedding garb she asks, “Did some stupid S.O.B. leave you at the altar? Oh honey, if I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a million times” as she goes into the whole “Guys are terrible, they’re a dime a dozen, you’re a pretty girl, there are other fish in the sea” speech. Meanwhile I’m thinking, but cannot speak, wanting to tell her “NO! You don’t get it! I have the perfect guy and the perfect life and we were in the middle of our perfect wedding and poof! Something just happend that I can’t explain or fix.” (And P.S. stop smoking around me and get me a good cup of coffee.) But, I simply cannot speak and nobody else seems to know or understands what is going on so I put my head down on the table and continue to cry.

When I lift my head and open my eyes and I’m back in the house (the one I’ve practially demolished). A group of Andy’s family (that I have yet to meet in real life, but just met in my dream) is sitting around me. They are trying to sooth me but I can also magically read their minds and they are thinking “Wow, we were wrong about this girl. She seemed so nice but what a nutcase! She’s throwing a fit and trashing this house over such a silly little thing.”

So I begin to wonder, Am I being silly? Everything flashes through my head again. Am I being a spoiled brat? Could I continue the ceremony as though nothing was wrong? But I just CAN’T….I had envisioned our perfect day and it was ruined; there was no way I could pull myself together and carry on as though nothing had happened. And furthermore, now his family that I had barely met thought I was a crazy nutcase.

Suddenly as though I’m a ghost being pulled toward the light, I’m floating outside. I pass the chapel as Pastor Gary is standing in front while the guest are chatting, still waiting, like two hours later. But we will not be returning. Although they don’t realize it, the ceremony is over, and I cannot rejoin my Prince Charming-turned ditzy-blonde of a man. The wedding is off and I am sick over it, pondering what went wrong and how we could have prevented it or fixed it. Sadly, I have no answers or resolution although I secretly wonder if I had told Pastor Gary what was going on if he could somehow rearrange the ceremony to cover so we could proceed, but it was too late and I float farther and farther away.

* * *

(Okay, back to real life now) My eyes pop open and adjust to the darkness, peering over at the clock that reads 1:00 AM on the dot. I lay there awhile, taking it all in and reviewing the crazy scenario that just played in my head while I was sleeping. It was terrible, but I am awake now. We’re a good 2+ months away from the wedding so I resolve to make sure we have the wedding rings done in plenty of time before the ceremony. Yet I cannot get the sickening scene out of my mind. I wonder WHY in the world I would dream such a thing. I decide to blame it on my cold, the fact that I went to bed so early (8PM), and the new Tylenol Allergy that I took. It must be the medicine. That’s all. I still have my Prince Charming (who thankfully is very bright, not the dimwit in my dream), and we are living our happy life and planning a wonderful wedding. All is well. Except it is the middle of the night and I am wide awake. I decide I must get up and blog about my crazy nightmare or I will forget all the crazy/funny details in the morning.

As such, it is now 2:57AM and I am still wide awake. Although, thanks to the Tylenol Allergy I can actually breathe, so maybe it’s not all bad. I decide I will not throw away the new bottle of medicine; I will try it again and pray that it does not give me nightmares.

Geeze…do you think the stress is finally getting to me????