Another check on the list

Invitations are now (almost) out. We now have only 15 or so lounging on the carpet at home, waiting for enclosures. Yay.

Up until this exact point, the invitations have been the most stressful thing on my to-do list. Think about it: first you have to pick and choose from everyone you've ever known in your entire life and then divide the list into two parts - people you like / like you, and people you hate / hate you. Then you have to divide the "people you like" list in half. This is now the master list. Then you have to cut the "people you hate" list into quarters and add one quarter to the master list. These people are invariably relatives.

You then take the master list and try and find out where they live, or in one case, where they are buried (sorry Uncle Rob!). You have to contact people who make up another quarter of the "people you hate" list to find out where the "people you hate" on the master list actually reside. Then you end up pissing off that quarter because they weren't invited, even though they hate you and you know it.

When you've got everything settled, you've made your max number, and everyone has contact info, this is the exact point when both mother and mother in law wonder why you haven't invited Aunt Sydney, or Uncle Brian. Don't you know they are like a sister / brother to them?? How could we have been so inconsiderate? You then take Aunt Sydney and Uncle Brian (and their 19 children, natch) and put them on the "backup master list". This list is very important. It is a list you have no intention of contacting. Ever. You plan no invite to send them, no space on the seating chart, no intention of getting contact info. These are the people who will show up on the day of, despite "forgetting" to disclose the province you are being married within. Remember this. It will happen. And they won’t bring a gift. And they will complain. A lot.

Then we have to decide which of these people will partake in various activities, such as out-of-towner dinners, the rehearsal, and my favourite, the Bridal Tea. Somehow, I have to keep the fact that we are having a Bridal Tea a deathly secret...if mother-in-law got wind of it, she'd appear with her flying monkeys…I mean, grandchildren, nieces and Aunt Sydney…much to the chagrin of my mother, who is hosting. Then, I have to keep explaining to MF that the tea is only to thank the bridesmaids for their (non-existent) help, while simultaneously inviting all of my out-of-town female relatives, because my mother won't have seen them in about 20 years.

THEN we have to figure out which of these darling guests resides in which country, and contact someone in each applicable country to purchase stamps for the RSVP envelopes...as I'm pretty sure that Germany won't accept out fiddy cent Canadian flag stamps. THEN we have to weigh each countries invites to work out the individual postage (who knew that a stamp to Uganda would cost $8?). THEN we have to drop them in the mail and await RSVP.

There is a measurement of time that is so minusculey short, so insignificantly tiny, that it doesn't even have a name. Millisecond is way to long a title. If a millisecond denotes that time frame, this measurement of time would be called a "mi".

A "mi" is precisely the amount of time between dropping all of the invitations in the postbox, and discovering a huge (and potentially embarrassing) typo on every single one of our invites. This will not only guarantee that no-one will show up a) on time, b) in the right location, AND c) in the correct dimension, but will also cause undeniable and catastrophic ripples throughout your entire guest list, ensuring that those who do manage to show up on time, in the right location and dimension, don't bring a gift.

So, we sit (or cower) and await the inevitable. Planning a wedding is so much fun!