#CoronaBride
So, what are you guys doing this weekend? Here’s what I will be doing:
NOT getting married to the Hot Urologist.
My previously scheduled plans for this Saturday have been swept away in the flood of global infection. This was to be the big wedding weekend. But instead of couture and cake, Saturday will most likely be marked by a Coolibar T shirt and Chipotle. C’est la vie, right?
Jeez, this stinks. I finally find an amazing guy who is under 75 and gainfully employed, spend a year planning the wedding extravaganza, and then BOOM! The operation goes down due to plague. This is just my luck.
The whole thing is surreal. Cancelling a wedding is mega dramatic, like a desperate plot twist in a bad rom-com. However, I have tried to retain my sense of humor.
But I am a bit bummed. I was so looking forward to the gathering of all of our friends and family together in one evening. And also, to solving our kitchen issues. I have spent the last year in possession of 3 forks. Three. I have refused to hit up the Target because, hello, the wedding registry shall solve all kitchen needs. Honestly, I feel pretty annoyed that I am not now sitting on a brand new set of 8 (possibly 12!) matching forks as well as a set of towels that are not the color of armadillo roadkill.
But there is always a silver lining. My wonderful friend Norman agreed to take charge of the wedding gown. I can’t remember if he actually volunteered or if I begged him in such a way that he relented simply to shut me up. Either way, the dress was (and is!) to be a Norman Ambrose creation. Corona has given him more time to complete the project and I have more time to lobby for feathers. I am not sure why he is having such trouble getting on board with this vision.
Who knows how we all came to be in this worldwide pickle. Maybe someone ate a bat face for dinner or maybe this thing has been percolating for years and finally blew a gasket. No idea. Here’s what I do know: the pandemic has bought me another full year of wedding planning and playing bride. And I am not mad about it. Buckle up Sarah, my fearless wedding planner! I have time to kill and a truckload of unreasonable new ideas. Excited? Me too!
With any luck, by June 2021, we will all have haircuts, a vaccine, and everyone will still be willing to make the trek to my Southern hometown to celebrate my serendipity of meeting the most wonderful man alive.
We may even have a wedding dress. That is, if we are able to finally locate the fabric which is currently MIA somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic on a boat from Spain.