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Pique N Your Interest

Wedding bell angst
andrewbyline

I’m not kicking any more bad habits for the New Year because otherwise I’d be no fun at all. Still, there’s no denying that this is a life-altering year for me – I’m getting married on April 29!

Because we wanted to tie the knot in Whistler, my future bride and I (I will do anything to avoid using the word "fiancé") figured it would be better to wait until after all the seasonal ruckus and prices had calmed down, and picked the weekend after the World Ski and Snowboard Festival.

It’s the perfect time – there’s still a lot of snow up top for people coming from places like Ontario and California that want to ski, and the valley is clear of snow so I don’t have to worry about my grandmother slipping on some ice and breaking her hip (again). The lower trails are also clear so some of our more energetic guests will be able to get in some running, hiking and mountain biking.

Of course, there’s an even better chance that it will be raining all day, every day. In fact, we’re pretty much planning our wedding around the rain in the hope we can be pleasantly surprised.

I have to admit I’m a little nervous about this whole thing – not in a cold feet kind of way, I’m quite sure I’ve hit the jackpot there – but because of the wedding itself.

For one, I don’t like getting my picture taken, mostly because I don’t take good pictures. The picture that runs with this column is almost four years old now and I had to get our production department to digitally trim off a tuft of hair that was sticking up on the back of my head. It was the best picture I could find, even after I spent 20 minutes with a professional photographer.

It takes my face exactly 0.5 seconds to go from a genuine smile to a pained-looking fake smile/grimace, and most photographers take longer than that to click the shutter. And from what I’ve seen I can probably expect at least an hour of photo time with my bride, our families, and our wedding parties – not to mention the first dance, the cake cutting, the speeches, and so on.

I’m seriously going to have to practice getting my picture taken between now and April.

I’m also nervous about being a centre of attention for an entire day, especially when there’s food involved. I can use simple tools, like a knife and fork and even chopsticks, but I haven’t quite figured out how to get food from plate to mouth without getting some of it on my shirt.

I can dance, when circumstances and blood-alcohol levels allow it, but I’m not keen on the idea of cutting a rug in circle of friends and family, either.

My public speaking record is also about 50-50, successful half the time and half the time a disaster. With 150 people invited, this will be my largest audience ever. I’ll be lucky to spit out a proper "I do" if I don’t write it on the back of my hand first.

When I fall asleep I’m not the type of person that has dreams about their day job or daily life. But I’ve already had three wedding nightmares where everything has gone wrong at our wedding and it was all my fault.

It’s no wonder. I’m not a particularly gifted multi-tasker, and weddings are unbelievably complex with all their minor details. This is the main reason why most people hire wedding planners.

The wedding is also a good time to get gifts, as we’ve been told, but the trouble is we don’t really know what we want.

We won’t have space for much either, until our number comes up on the Whistler Housing Authority List, and that could be years and years away.

Our lifestyles also don’t really call for much in the way of crystal or bone china. We’d get a lot more practical use out of a mountain bike tuning stand or a gift certificate at a furniture store than premium flatware. Yet, when we were turned loose at The Bay with that little scanner gun we found ourselves registering for things like a Henckel Santoku Knife, oven mitts, and even a top-of-the-line rolling pin.

I’ve used a rolling pin exactly once in my six and a half years in Whistler, and can’t imagine why I’d need one at this point in my life, much less a "professional chef" model. If the cartoons are to be believed, all I’m doing is arming my wife with a blunt instrument for the unfortunate day I forget our anniversary.

In retrospect we probably went a little silly with the scanning gun. Now we have to go back and do it again.

By the time New Year’s rolls around I’ll have exactly 117 days left until the rehearsal dinner. It may seem like a long time, but there are a lot of milestones between now and then, like sending out invitations, picking a tux, organizing packages for out of town visitors, hiring a justice of the peace, and figuring out exactly where we’ll be exchanging our vows. And my winters are already busy, and will only get busier when it starts snowing. I almost wish it were a Leap Year, because I think I’ll be needing that extra day.

Maybe my New Year’s Resolution should be to not screw everything up.