Have you ever gotten married?

I keep saying things like “oh, getting married on a cruise is so cool, like totally awesome”, but this stuff is real work. First, we still haven’t booked a flight. Not that our travel agent isn’t trying, I just keep living in the “the price will go down” mentality. Second, I don’t have a wedding dress, and I don’t want one yet. How do you even travel with a wedding dress? Is that my carry on? Do I put it under my snuck on the ship booze in my suitcase? Do I buy a wedding dress on the island?

Also, we didn’t need passports, but we got them. By that I mean, Dylan got a picture that was straight out of GQ, while all my chins came out to play, and my checking account is now empty. Then there’s the fact that I’m stressed out because we were sorted into Hufflepuff on Pottermore and Dylan’s so against being a Hufflepuff it’s not even funny. So now my honeymoon is ruined, because Dylan won’t wear a matching Hufflepuff shirt with me, but you DON’T CHOOSE YOUR HOUSE. Stressful.

A couple other little wedding things, like the fact that we’re in crunch time and not everyone has jumped on the boat is making me VERY nervous. Or like, why hasn’t my venue told me the details, like can I change in the bathroom or am I summoned to a wedding dress the entire day? Whoofta.

But these are just the little details…

I don’t know how I’d ever plan a real wedding. Like my venue is some sand, and my music is “here comes the bride”, and my ordained minister is provided by the Island of Freeport. My reception is on a cruise ship, and my reception I mean “how man shots can I take at the bar immediately following my wedding”.

Two of my best friends are currently engaged, and Chelsie’s KILLING it. She’s got the place, the decor, the colors, the bridal party, and almost the dress picked out. It took my 18 months to even decide that I wanted to start planning, and this woman is on her game. Props to you.

Anyways, I figured it would be fun to show you the beautiful venue from the cruise ship that we almost got married in. Welcome to paradise…

Now do you see why I almost had a mental breakdown? The sides of the stage have an actual replica castle. There are sequin drapes. There are velvet seats. Nothing matches. I would have cried for probably my entire life, and never shown anyone.

When they say marriage is work, I thought they meant like the whole “we don’t have money in our bank account, how do we buy the baby diapers?” but it’s more like “can you really live the rest of your life knowing you got married in a room with velvet seats?” No. I can not.


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