|Even uncaring brides care about their boobs in a dress.|
So I'm sure the first thing you'll ask is, "Why the glum title?" Well, the answer is simple. Weddings are not me. Wedding planning is especially not me. And I'm sure the next question you'll ask is, "Why the H are you even having a wedding?" and/or "Why don't you just elope?" That answer is simple too. Because I love my fiance and want pretty pictures. I love pictures. Really love pictures. Ok, part of me wants the dress. What girl doesn't want the dress? A tomboy maybe, which is what I've always considered myself. But even still, wedding dresses are pretty. And I must say, in the course of this wedding planning "journey," I've discovered that I look damn good in wedding dresses. So there.
The apathy, though, comes from not caring about normal things that many brides care about: centerpieces, wedding shoes, the ribbon on the cake matching the color of the bridesmaids' dresses. I'm sure all of that matters a lot to lots of brides, but I try to live my life with a "grand scheme of things" outlook. Will anyone remember the exact hues of the ribbon compared to the bridesmaids' dresses? No, really probably not. Hence, I don't worry about it. Correction: I don't care about it. I probably won't remember either anyway. And I also don't think that my wedding photographs will have a strip of the bridesmaids' dresses lying next to the cake ribbon for comparison. Hence apathy. Gotta love apathy! It saves on the Bridezilla cliche. That's always nice, I'm sure.
There are things I care about though, for sure. For one. abso-fricken-lutely no pink in my wedding. No exceptions. I'm a girl, but pink is a goofy and stereotypical color (and I'm sure I'll eventually share about my stereotype phobia). My fiance is not a girl, so he doesn't need a pink wedding either. Why all the pink out there? I want to let my fiance keep his man-card, and with a pink and cheetah cake, he can't really be all man. So no pink. No animal print either.
Another thing I care about: drunk-asses. I don't want drunk asses at my wedding either. It's a brunch wedding, and if you are able to get wasted on mimosas and sangria in a short amount of time, I'm not sure I want you there. Save the drunken stupors for club night or sorority rushes. Not for our wedding, please.
The biggest thing I care about: I must, MUST, have pretty pictures! Oh, how I love pictures. I could scroll through photography wedding blogs all day long. I love seeing wedding photographers on my Facebook post blog updates with their pictures. I want pictures that are worthy of appearing on someone else's blog with the caption "OMG HOW CA-YUTE. What a great idea/shot/picture/smile/dress/etc!" That's my dream. Write it down.
Not to mention that pictures are what hold the memories in tact. I may be old and senile one day, and I want to remember how great we looked on our wedding day. I want to remember the expression on his face when he first sees me, or what we looked like during our first dance, or if my bridesmaids' dresses matched the ribbon on the cake, but Alzheimer's may prevent that. Cue the pictures!
So I can't call myself completely apathetic. I want nice memories, and drunk asses, pink flowers, and kids (more on them later) may not allow me to have those. But pictures will. Even if I end up decking a drunk uncle.