Saturday, November 21, 2009

Magazines and other Things

Well, I'm back. It's been a hectic month or so, and not because of wedding planning. Not that there hasn't been some wedding planning involved. My Betrothed and I took off for a whirlwind tour of local National Parks and Monuments for two weeks, after which I came back to a workload that... well... it's the kind of workload that ends up on your desk after being out of the office for two weeks. So, of course, I worked for two more days, took Veteran's day off, and then promptly took two more vacation days to help My Betrothed get situated at her new residence. Far, far away from me.

So very far.

Stop looking at me like that. I'm not gonna cry or anything.

Anyway, back to my impending groom-hood. The weddings I have been to have all been very different, but they have tended to have a few things in common. They have been events centered around pairs of people who have come together to proclaim to the world that they love each other. When I was younger, I viewed weddings as pointlessly ceremonial (I want to be clear: I'm talking about weddings as an event, not marriages as a concept). Now, however, I see the point. It is this public proclamation of love that makes the whole thing worth while to the Bride and Groom. I am happy to say that most of the weddings I have been to have been for couples who are still, in fact, married.

Of course, I always believed that the Wedding Industrial Complex has very little to do with proclamations of undying love and devotion, and much more to do with money. I mean, after all, this is how these people make a living. But sometimes the commercialization gets a bit out of hand.

I'm beginning to see that "out of hand" is the normal state of affairs. Take the first bridal magazine My Betrothed picked up. Like many popular magazines such as Cosmo, Maxim, Rolling Stone, etc, it was difficult to find articles amongst all the advertisements. In this case, however, even many of the articles were advertisements. I had, somewhat naïvely, supposed that the articles would be aimed at helping the reader "Get the Wedding You Want" as the headlines on the cover proclaimed. That doesn't seem to be the focus. One article, about five pages long or longer, was about Sandals, Jamaica as a honeymoon destination. It was interspersed with actual ads for Sandals, Jamaica, but the article itself did nothing but lavish praise and list all the amenities available. My Betrothed and I have recently been working our way through early seasons of the U.S. version of TV's "The Office." We could not stop giggling. Sandals has an image problem, and his name is Michael Scott.

The other thing that struck me was that while there are numerous Bridal magazines available, there aren't any Groomal magazines. (Spell check says that "Groomal" isn't a word. I say language is fluid, and that Groomal has just entered the lexicon. Go forth and spread the new vocab, people!) I did eventually find a local guide to wedding vendors that was in its annual "Groom's Edition." That's right. Grooms get one edition a year. The September/October edition. If you're a Groom who proposes in November of one year and gets married before September of the next, you're out of luck.

On top of everything else, I discovered that the authors of the Groom's Edition articles, including the Editor's blurb at the beginning, did not seem to think Brides in general were very, um, bright. The editor seemed focused on trying to tell Grooms how to keep control of the checkbook while still making the Bride happy. Because, obviously, all Grooms are breadwinners, and all Brides are over-spenders.

Excuse me. I realize sarcasm doesn't travel well over the internets. That was sarcasm.

But it was really the tips that the Editor was offering that made me the most insulted on My Betrothed's behalf. For instance: we live in a hot climate where summer temperatures quickly soar into the hundreds. So the editor suggested that Grooms propose the idea of getting married in June. You see, venues around here tend to offer summer discounts. Because no one in his/her right mind wants to get married in June in the desert. But the editor pronounced that "She'll think you're a romantic."

Just a note: My Betrothed does not find it romantic when her uncle passes out from heat stroke.

The other articles inside were typical Wedding Industrial Complex stuff. Of course, this being a guide to local vendors, that's expected. It was the vendors themselves writing the articles. It's amusing how similar articles for brides are to articles for grooms. In a bridal magazine the food articles focus on getting what "you" (in this case, the Bride) want: filet mignon instead of hamburger, prosciutto instead of bacon, etc, etc, etc. But the "Groom's Edition" focuses on educating the groom about how the foods he really wants "probably won't fly" but that he could find acceptable substitutes: filet mignon instead of hamburger, prosciutto instead of bacon, etc, etc, etc.

"But aren't those also the more expensive options? Shouldn't you go with what your own taste buds and/or personal budget dictate?"

Hush! Silence! Do not question the WIC!

~G2B

I have learned, through Google, that "Wedding Industrial Complex" and "Groomal" are not my own original creations. Darn. I thought I was starting something. Still good vocab, though.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Oh, One More Thing

Hi. I'm not actually here, right now. I'm somewhere in the wilderness, on a tour of National Parks with My Betrothed. Camping out. Roughing it. But it occurred to me that the pictures I posted last week were not in fact the pictures that had been "popularly demanded," and thus, the title of last week's post was a bit of a misnomer!

This has nothing to do with me attempting to fill space by stretching what should have been one photo post in to two.

Nope.

Nothing whatsoever.

So, without further ado, pictures of the ring!

Well, maybe a bit more further ado. Here's there computer mock-up that GreenKarat sent me.
Courtesy: GreenKarat.  Perhaps I should have asked permission.  Please don't sue.

I don't know much about jewelry, so I had to send a nice email to the lady who coordinates custom orders to ask her whether those big, bulky, metal prongs would actually look that way in the finished ring. She assured me that they would not. I breathed a sign of relief, comfortable in my newfound knowledge that the ring I had ordered was not, in fact, a deadly weapon.

And here's the real thing, in it's rightful place.
The Rock

She's about to give me a fist bump there, I think. Here's a closer picture of the ring.


And another angle.
Ah!  My eyes!

So there you have it. I don't have any more pre-typed posts up my sleeve. I hope you can live without me. Any more posts before we return from vacation on the 4th will be as much a surprise to me as they are to you. See you then!

~G2B

Friday, October 23, 2009

By Popular Demand

Because at least one reader has asked, I'm posting some pictures here.

Submitted for your approval:
Sunset1

I want to tell you that this is the sunset on the day I proposed. Unfortunately, however, I was distracted by My Betrothed's radiant beauty, and therefore did not grab my camera. The picture you see above was taken one night later, at the moonlit hike I described in my first post. On the actual Proposal night, we watched the sun set slowly, looked at cloud shapes, and then looked behind us to see a great big moon rising from the East.

The next night we watched the sun set again, but from a different location. Here's another shot.
Sunest2

And we watched the harvest moon, which lit up the sky so well we didn't need a flashlight, even after the sun's last rays had faded. My little digital camera and my poor photography skills couldn't possibly do it justice, but here it is, anyway.
Moonrise1

Yeah, it's friggin' huge!

Moonrise2

Then we went back to My Betrothed's via CVS. Deep breath. Wedding magazines. So gender biased. So scary.

The two of us are going on a vacation next week. I'll try to give you an occasional post to keep this space from stagnating while we're gone. Probably another short photo piece like this one.

~G2B

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Fear of Parties

Note: This post was originally planned to be posted on Monday, October 19th, but life happened. Please enjoy this belated post. No, I can't promise it won't happen again.

When we last met our hero, the Impending Groom, he was embarking on a fool's errand, to insert his opinions and ideas into the wedding plans. He hasn't yet had his head bitten off. In fact, he's made suggestions about both drinks and music and the wedding's still on. Seems he picked the perfect Bride. She even tolerates him speaking in the third person from time to time.

There are some things that are important for me to be a part of. You see, this wedding is going to be kind of a big deal for me. It's going to involve confronting what may be one of my greatest fears: parties. Before My Betrothed and I began dating, I was once at a wedding reception that seriously scared me. It was a beautiful, dull, cookie-cutter wedding reception. The guest list was huge. I was there as someone's "plus one," so I knew almost no one, and hadn't been getting along with the one person I did know. It was a big room full of strangers, and I started to have a bit of a panic response. I looked at the bride, who was beaming. Of course she was, that's what brides do on their wedding days. I looked at the groom. Surely he would be sharing some of my anxious feelings by now. He'd been through the whole ceremony with a big grin on his face, and then had to greet everyone at the reception. He had been on his feet for hours at this point. Hemust be feeling the wear.

But he was still smiling!

The thought that entered my head was that I was incapable of appearing happy for that long, especially in public. I was pretty sure I was capable of actually being happy for quite some time. However, the appearances of being happy, or even content, did not always accompany their respective emotions. I'd been to plenty of parties where I was perfectly at ease sitting in a corner listening to music, or people watching. But apparently my facial expression didn't match what I was feeling. This lead to party-goer after party-goer asking me "what's wrong," until I had said "nothing" so many times that I was annoyed, uncomfortable, even miserable, and my mood matched my face. Suddenly, there was something wrong. My usual reaction to this was to get up and leave.

The idea of a party where I was not free to leave --at which every eye in the room would be watching me, expecting me to look happy no matter how I felt -- that was a nightmare! I came to the conclusion that I would be a terrible groom.

About a month before I started flirting heavily with My Betrothed I attended another wedding. A wedding I enjoyed. There were three important differences. First, I was there alone. I was not, as I had been at the previous wedding, hours away from ending a two year relationship. Second, I knew many of the people there, including not only the bride and groom but also several of the guests and members of the wedding party. Third, the wedding was unconventional. It was not formal, it was not cookie cutter, and it was still beautiful. The happy couple explained to me that they had insisted on doing things "their way," and then pointed out a few things that had been specifically the groom's contributions. Suddenly, being a groom didn't seem so impossible.

Now, with My Betrothed, it seems more than possible. I'm looking forward to it! She makes me happier than I have ever been, and I smile when I'm with her, even when we're out in public. At other people's weddings. At parties. Though I may not have a grin plastered on my face at all times, I've still had much fewer questions of "what's wrong?"

But the purpose of this blog is not to pour sugar down your throat, forcing you to read all about how much I love my fiancée. This is a journal of my experiences helping to plan my own wedding.

You see, I think that even with My Betrothed by my side, I might start feeling a bit droopy after a few hours. Hell, we both have a tendency to "hit a wall" with social situations from time to time. So it's important to me that we do it "our way." The hard part, at least for me, is going to be figuring out what "our way" is. I've never been a party person, so how do I know what I like to do at parties? I'll start by making suggestions about drinks and music, and see where it goes from there.

~G2B

I'll try for another post Friday. It may be considerably shorter. After that, My Betrothed and I will be on vacation for 2 weeks. I cannot promise to post regularly again until the week of Veteran's Day.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Diamonds Aren't My Girl's Best Friend

After my previous post, one might wonder, "Why, oh Impending Groom, did you put up with the fact that this jewelry company failed to return your emails so many times? Why not simply go somewhere else? There are so many options for buying engagement rings, and many of them would have responded much more promptly!" Well, it wasn't just any engagement ring I wanted, and the reasons for that are tied to some of my own concerns and goals about the upcoming wedding. Which will help me give you an idea what this blog is about. It should also help give me an idea, which would be nice.

So first, what was up with the ring? My Betrothed and I share many interests, passions, and social concerns. For instance: we both believe diamonds are Bad. Many other people have gone into much more detail than I am capable of regarding the controversies surrounding diamonds:the violence they spark, the environmental impact they have, Leonardo DiCaprio's acting, potential applications in Supervilliany, and so forth. My Betrothed and I discussed the topic, discussed wading into the wealth of information that exists about whether we could get ethically sourced diamonds, discussed the possibility of lab created diamonds or diamond imitators, and came to one simple conclusion:

Emeralds are prettier.

There. I said it. Agents of De Beers may murder me in my sleep, but I said it. My Betrothed wanted an emerald as her center stone, so an emerald it would be. It would be lab created because mining anything, anywhere, is bad for the environment. And it would be set in recycled gold, because, well, this. And thus, my Quest was clear.

And that's why I put up with the slow email response time. GreenKarat, the jewelers I had chosen, shares many of our views on diamonds and gold, uses wind energy for producing their pieces, and even offers a carbon offset for the shipping and any other incidental energy use that may occur along the way. And after the initial communication issues, everything went smoothly. Between the time I confirmed my order and the time I got the custom ring, barely 2 weeks elapsed. And it was a thing of beauty.

The finished ring had an emerald flanked on either side by white sapphires, all set in 18 karat white gold. The stones were from the lab, the gold was post-consumer recycled, and the box that it came in was made of recycled paper that had been filled with wildflower seeds so it could be planted.

The invoice was on wildflower paper, too.

The invoice!

So the answer to the jeweler question is that I wanted the ring -- the symbol of our engagement -- to reflect our values and concerns. I want the wedding to do the same. I know that the usual advice for the groom-to-be is that he should get out of the way and let the Bride do her thing. And to a large extent, that's what I intend to do. But it's important to me to feel like I'm included. Which I can do by looking for ways to make the whole thing greener and more socially conscious. I don't want to get preachy, but I want to make my presence felt.

"Fool!" You say. "Do not meddle with the wishes of the Bride!" I don't intend to. But she refers to this as "our day." Not as hers. She even called it mine once.

In my next post I'll try to explain a little about why I feel the need to do more than simply smother her choice of floral arrangement with praise.

~G2B

Monday, October 12, 2009

She Said "Yes"

The Proposal took months. I knew I wanted to marry My Betrothed embarrassingly early in our relationship. She wasn't even living in the same state as I was yet, but every once in a while one of us would "accidentally" make some comment about our DVD collections merging, or how many theoretical children each of us would theoretically want, and so on and so forth. It just all grew so naturally that I cannot even put a finger on exactly when I decided yes, yes, this is the woman I am going to marry. I can tell you for sure that by the time I helped her drive all her belongings down from Portland to Phoenix I had the Love Bug so bad that there was no coming back. I would have to propose. That was all back in December 2008. In late June 2009 I started looking around for jewelers. That's a lie. She doesn't know this (well, I guess now she does) but I popped into one or two jewelry stores before Christmas last year and was immediately overwhelmed and intimidated by the saleswomen. I ran screaming. I wasn't ready. It's not that I wasn't ready to propose. It's that I wasn't ready to shop for an engagement ring, let alone able to afford one.

So by early July 2009 I had found a jeweler I wanted to do business with. On Independence Day I sent them an email. Of course, my email was immediately buried in an avalanche of other emails because the lady who was in charge of the custom jewelry was out of the office. People often are around holidays like July 4th, and in Summer in general. I didn't hear back. I sent another email. I didn't hear back. Eventually I called, left a message, and got an email back. Allison, the custom jewelry lady, asked me to clarify some things from my original email, which I did, and then I didn't hear again for a month. So I sent another email.

Originally, all I wanted was an estimate on price. I needed to know how much to save up. But by mid-August it was looking increasingly likely that My Betrothed would have to move for work. To a place 6 hours away. In just two months. Suddenly I needed to get that ring on her finger. But my emails, once again, weren't being returned. I was perusing the website of the jeweler again one day when I saw the suggestion that if there was an emergency, customers should write "urgent" in the subject header. I'd noticed this before. But to me, "emergency" means someone is in imminent physical danger, or about to become homeless. Writing "urgent" in any email on the topic of jewelry seemed to me to be overly dramatic.

But you know what? It worked.

Suddenly I had an order number, and then a price quote, and soon enough I had an estimate on the ring's completion date. And then, finally, the ring itself. When it arrived on October 2nd I rushed right out, bought some champagne, some flowers, and the makings of a nice dinner. I planned to roll things out gradually over the course of the weekend. I knew that she knew it was coming eventually, and once things really got started she'd probably know that "eventually" was "soon." But I wanted to drag it out, tease her a bit, drive her nuts. The plan was to give her the flowers Friday night, make her brownies on Saturday, and then make the nice dinner on Sunday night, followed by a moonlit walk that was her idea in the first place.

So I showed up Friday night with the flowers. She'd had an awful day, and they helped cheer her up. She mentioned that a coworker of hers had suggested the two of us go on a picnic the next evening at the site where she'd be working, which is quite breathtaking at sunset. I knew I wasn't going to be able to wait until Sunday. The picnic idea was perfect. Except, of course, that the pasta dinner I'd had planned for Sunday wouldn't work. It didn't matter. I'd bring Thai food (her suggestion), the brownies, and the wine, and propose at sunset.

Which I did. And she said "yes." I made the pasta and stuff the next night anyway. And when we went for that nighttime walk, her smile outshone the moon.

On the way home, she drove us by the CVS, and bought a bridal magazine. Suddenly, I felt it. I was an Impending Groom. ~G2B PS - More about that Ring next time