January 31st, 19:52 | A wedding! Wedding, wedding, wedding!
Okay, so I know it was kind-of for-real when they got engaged and all, but there's a date set now! My sister is getting married (for real) and has a date, and suddenly there's real planning that needs to be done, and I have my binder all ready (seriously; I just finished it) and a spreadsheet template, and my parents telling me to calm down, jesus, it's not even my wedding, but I'm so excited. (Also: trying to keep the anal-retentive attention to detail in check.) It's helping to remember that I don't have to make any decisions because, hey, it's not my wedding, and that, really, I'm just the giant, sticky-note-plastered organizer, in apostrophe, keeping details together, but still. So. Excited! I may actually have to quarantine myself in a bathtub and soak to calm myself down here. I went a little overboard today looking up timelines and checklists and things of that ilk to make sure that, you know, once it's no longer 16 months away, I can keep all the pre-wedding stuff on track. In other news, I couldn't tell you why, but all of a sudden, I'm finding that I'm listening to all these songs about regret (Holy John Mayer much??) and it's just... incomprehensible. Incomprehensible and melancholy. (In passing, though, check out his Comfortable -- I listen to it, and can't breathe; it's heart-rending.) Anyway, I'm not sure what's with the sudden plunge into the sadness of lost love. Possibly related to the wedding-plannage? Maybe. Probably. I don't know. I never really thought of myself as one of those girls who worried about Finding Someone To Marry Because I Don't Want To Die Alone, Damnit. I guess I just figured it wouldn't happen because -- let's face it -- how often am I alone? (Note to self: hey genius, what about now?) I'm still not worried, particularly*, and I don't wish I were getting married because, quite frankly, I'm pretty sure I couldn't handle it at the moment**. I guess I'm just wondering if I'm ever going to be at a place when the thought "holy shit, this is for real", as applied to my own life, won't scare me off. (See **.) * Okay, so occasionally I will have a little Bridget Jones-esque meltdown where I worry about transforming into the somewhat sad neighbourhood lady in her late 30s that everyone knows is too sweet to be a cougar, but also knows is Past It, and will die, unheeded, only to be discovered a week later, half-devoured by her own cats. (Which is terrifying because, you know, nine times out of ten, they start with the nose...) ** I am probably notorious, and if I'm not, I should be, for my propensity to freak out whenever I'm faced with any kind of decision that I think will permanently alter the path that my life merrily tumbles down. StalkerEx told me that I was afraid of commitment, which at the time sent me flying into a rage but in the years since then, watching myself both in and out of relationships, I have to admit he was probably right. It's not that I don't want permanence, that I don't want to be settled. I do. I'm the most home-body person you know (no seriously, even with all the gypsy tendencies), just... I never feel like I can yet. Like if I settle down now, I'll never make myself as good as I could be. I'll never force myself to reach for a career, I'll never get a chance to see Tibet on my own, I'll never learn how to rely on myself. I honestly don't know what I'm so afraid of. Some bizarre amalgam of perfectionism and fear of settling for the proverbial Less, maybe? I have no idea. And even though it's threatening to destroy any possible wedding I might ever have, I'm going to make damn sure I don't let it get in the way of anyone else's.
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