The Five Things Arthur is Responsible For the Wedding (or, Five Ways Arthur is Going to Screw Up the Wedding)

This is my latest top five list and yes, it is once again wedding related. As the "man," I am responsible for a certain amount of the wedding. Usually the stuff that isn't flower related. I've decided to generate these things into a top five list and also add on where my final decision for each is headed. So, please enjoy, and don't tell Andrea:

5. I'm responsible for the Groomsmen gift: Which I've decided upon to be a handful of those paper balls that snap when you throw them to the ground (in some parts of the world, they are called Snaps). And I figure that I should give them out before my wedding ceremony...oh, and my groomsmen will all be thirteen years old.

4. I'm responsible for my ring: Andrea already has plans for her wedding band, so I'm going to have to come up with my own idea. I could use the engagement ring that we already or I could go with the better choice: Ring Pops. I'm going cherry, don't like grape.

3. I'm responsible for the rehearsal dinner: Which, as of now, consists of a bag of weed and a table filled with an assortment of Cheetos.

2. I'm responsible for the entertainment: I've decided against the DJ or the live band. Instead, we are just going to show a continuous video loop of my favorite Police Academy scenes.

1. I'm responsible for writing my wedding vows: As of now, all I've got is the Ezekiel 25:17 speech that Samuel L. Jackson gives in Pulp Fiction.

So, there you go. If this sounds like a potentially good time for you, then drop us a line and we'll put you in the "Win an Invite to Arthur and Andrea's Wedding" sweepstakes. (Offer void in Hawaii and parts of Utah). Please only send one entry per person.

The Moment We've All Been Waiting For

Much emptier on Halloween Night!

It's official! As I walked off of the plane at LaGuardia from Chicago Midway Friday night, I thought to myself, maybe Arthur will be here. I quickly smacked myself in the head. "Andrea!" I yelled internally because to do so outloud might garner at minimum annoyed stares from weary travelers, "you have got to stop doing this to yourself. Arthur wants it to be a surprise and if you keep thinking he is going to pop out of every corner, piece of cake and coffee cart, you are going to go nuts!" It was at that moment that I decided to stop the madness. Newly determined, I happily walked through the airport, thinking about how empty it was, when I rounded into baggage claim. And standing behind a column was Arthur! I immediately hugged him, proclaiming my surprise. He then got down on his knee and said, "I did not want you to step on New York soil without your ring." He put it on me. I hugged him again and we exchanged "I love you's." I then put the matching ring on his finger. There were only a few people around, a grumpy security guard giving us the stink eye and a youngish woman, whom I believe was made to feel incredibly uncomfortable sitting only a few feet down from us. After our intimate moment, she suddenly stood up, asking "what terminal is this?" and ran off. Then...the best part! I saw that my suitcase was already sitting there, someone having taken it off the carousel for me! I jest, of course. That wasn't the best part, but it was a pretty good sign, I think.


Not us after the officialness. It was a nineties party a few weeks ago.













*Reasonable facsimile of Andrea's red suitcase.
**No suitcases were harmed during the writing of this blog.

Now There's Really No Turning Back

We've booked our location! Yeah! It is going to be at the Three Village Inn in Stony Brook, Long Island on October 3, 2009. While we struggled with the final two for a little bit, we ultimately felt that this place was more us - historical (we are going to be in our mid-thirties by the time we get hitched), unique (have you met Andrea???) , picturesque (if you haven't experienced it, just you wait 'til Arthur bats those baby blues at you).

It feels good having made the decision. A load has been lifted and we can concentrate on other things. For example, Andrea can start the fun process of dress shopping with her mother and friends while Arthur can start interviewing gladiators for the entertainment portion of the program. As Andrea looks for invitation ideas, Arthur can put an ad on Craigslist for the ninjas who will double as groomsmen. "EM desperately seeking 4 spry, stealthy individuals who really know how to work a crowd. Must have own smoke bombs. Electric slide experience preferred." So yeah, we both have our wedding planning responsibilities.

Oh. And in case anyone is wondering, there are no rings on our fingers yet!

Control Freak?!?

I KNOW that the rings have arrived. How do I know? Because Todd Alan Studios was nice enough to shoot me an e-mail on Monday telling me that our ordered had been shipped via express UPS service (Yes, not so smart considering the plan was for me NOT to have a clue as to their actual arrival...we failed to realize that we put my e-mail address down when we ordered them (no worries, though. This is going to be a GREAT wedding, as we are assuredly off to a well-thought out start). I KNOW the rings have arrived, but there are no rings on our right hand ring fingers yet. Everyday that passes by fills my mind with ideas, concerns and thoughts of "WHEN THE HELL IS IT GOING TO HAPPEN"?

So it has dawned on me that I am an absolute control freak. Ok. I know. If any of you are reading this who have known me for any extended amount of time, you might be thinking...this is as great an epiphany as realizing that you should not go swimming until half an hour after you eat (arthur blog call back). Irregardless, I have just now come to this realization myself. It is killing me that someone else, even if it is my intended - a person, I love and respect - has all the control in this situation. At every given moment, I think, maybe it'll be tonight. Maybe Arthur is not actually at an open mic, but is waiting in the apartment and has strategically placed the rings around the cat's neck so that when she jumps on me, she will, in fact, be the one to propose. She could do it, you know, but then she's run back and forth a couple of time and knock stuff off of stuff. Maybe my dinner plan with so and so is all a ruse and Arthur will be waiting there instead, dressed up in a Han Solo outfit. Or Darth Vader. But not Jabba the Hut and definitely not Jar Jar Binks. I'd have to say no if he did that.

I digress.

I am trying so hard to be good - to restrain from bombarding him with suggestions or questions or hints. That isn't to say that I don't get a good old passive aggressive remark in there now and again (come on ladies, you know what I'm talking about), it is just that I promised that I would lay off. And I do want to - for him, for us. At the end of the day, all that matters is that we are getting married in a year's time, right? Perhaps I should view this as a growth experience - something that will make me a stronger, better person capable of will power, self-control and discipline. Yet, much a couple of weight watchers points, I fear that this thought will only sustain me for about an hour.

I could maybe deal with Obi Wan (either Ewan McGregor or Alec Guinness). That might be hot.

Five Worst Places to Hold Our Wedding

Hey there.  Arthur here.  I've grown to enjoy writing top five lists.  And I thought, "Hey, why not introduce one I wrote into our wedding blog.  After all, it is one I've written about weddings.  Oh, crap, did I feed the cat.  I think so.  What's on HBO tonight?"  So, I've giving you this list of the worst places for us to have our wedding.  If you like these, check out more at arthurstopfive.blogspot.com.  And now, for the list:

5. Afghanistan - A lot of political upheaval going on in this place.  Also, no good DJ's.

4. The Sun - I have a pale complexion and burn easily.  The sun wouldn't be good for my skin.  Also, lack of solid catering halls.

3. My High School Bedroom - The home of just about all my greatest disappointments.  Don't want to jinx the wedding by putting it there.

2. A Ballroom Filled with the Living Dead - The living dead make awful wedding guests.  They eat all the food (and friends and family) and don't even bother bringing a gift.

1. Sue Funke's Apartment - May be a scam.  She wants a 125 guest commitment, but the place only fits six.

Well, we should be deciding on a place soon.  We've got a lot of things to think about.  Thank God I narrowed it down a bit by deciding where I don't want to hold the wedding.  They say this is the most difficult decision to make for your wedding.  They also say not to swim until a half hour after you eat.  And we now know that's not true.

A Modern Coming Out

Have you tried this facebook thing? I know I'm like a million years behind the times (I even by-passed the whole MySpace era), but it is my most recent obsession. It's pretty cool and I've been able to get in touch with people I haven't seen in over 15 years. I even got Arthur to join.

Speaking of Arthur, it has been a few weeks since we became unofficially engaged. And whilst we've told are nearest and dearest and even a few on the periphery, we are ultimately waiting to let everyone know after we have some sort of symbolic moment (other than clicking the computer mouse at the same time in order to place the on-line order of our engagement rings. Seriously, we did that).

At least that was the plan....

Facebook has this nifty little option where you can comment on your relationship with any particular person with whom you are friends. In his eagerness to set up a complete profile, Arthur changed our status from "in a relationship with" to "engaged to", essentially informing the facebook community that we are, in fact, engaged. Almost instanteously, I received many heartfelt and SURPRISED wishes of congratulations. I have yet to respond to those people because A) facebook is not functioning properly for me and B) I'm not quite sure what to say! (THANKS, everyone! Thanks, facebook!)

Besides the fact that this isn't quite how I pictured telling my friends or even my "friends" that we are getting married, posting our betrothal on the biggest social networking site around isn't exactly keeping things "unofficial." Alongside this silliness of it, I feel guilty about not telling the people in my life that are not on facebook. You know, the ones that actually might get invited to the nuptials?

Though, I suppose if one were to think about it, it does fall under the category of "non-traditional." It is also quite a modern (or is it post-modern? I forget) way of getting engaged.

Where are those freaking rings?

Officially Unofficial

Arthur and I have been talking for a while now about wanting a "non-traditional" wedding. Not quite sure what that means exactly? Well, neither do we. Getting married on top of the Kingda Ka? Don't even think about it, Arthur. Dressing up in period costume? My friends would just die. Running away and eloping? Well, that would be sweet, but it isn't going to happen.

So really we aren't too sure about what we want specifically. What we do know is what we don't want. Since I'm writing this, I'll let Arthur speak if his "not wants" himself, and concentrate on mine at this juncture.

I don't want to feel a part of the bridal machine or to feel suckered into things that are not us. Instead, I want to make the choices that make us both happy and that will lead us to a hell of a party that celebrates the beginning of our married life and the start of Arthur having health insurance for the first time since I've known him.

I don't want to wear a traditional white dress (though, I've since decided that I am willing to try on white dresses with color in them) or wear a veil or have my parents "give me away." My feminist leanings simply won't allow me to subscribe to the symbols behind these "traditions" (many of which didn't start until around WWII).

I don't want to throw a bouquet so that my single friends can gleefully squeal in some absurd notion of feminine competition (every woman must WANT to get married, mustn't she?). I don't want to do the chicken, the electric slide, the "hands-up" dance, the macarena or that terrible Grease compilation remix. There. I have said it. And the wedding gods have neglected to send the bad bride lightening bolt in order to strike me down. Minor offense, perhaps.

The biggest wedding sin committed so far, I think, is not wanting a big rock. Never been one for the concept of spending three months salary on a piece of jewelry that tells the world I am now taken, but says nothing about my betrothed's status, I also feared patronizing a sketchy industry. So while I think they're pretty and sparkly, it's not me. After much conversation and a bit of deliberation, Arthur and I have purchased engagement rings (note the plural - it's not a type-o). We chose hand-woven rings that will be custom made out of the same braid. They haven't arrived yet, but should be here any day! I'm dying! Where are those @#$%ers?!? Sorry. OK. Anyway, like I was saying, they have not come yet. So Arthur and I decided that until such time as they do show up, we are "unofficially engaged."

We, of course, told our parents. And our siblings. And our closest friends. And a couple of co-workers. But that's it....