Be Vewy, Vewy Quiet: We're Hunting Venues

While we've managed to all but secure the perfect venue for our reception (more on that in a later post!), we just can't seem to find one for the "I Do"s. Lead after lead has ended abruptly in a dead end, and it's starting to take a toll on our wedding planning verve.

The bride, pouting, because she can.

Recently, I've gotten my hopes up for the beautiful grounds of the Westin, the charming river view at the convention center, and the bandshell at Forsyth Park. The only problem? They've all turned out to range from five hundred to forty-five hundred over our budget.

A year ago, I would have had a good laugh at any Savannahian complaining she couldn't find a location for her wedding. Our fair city is home to twenty-four beautiful squares, each unique, each blooming like crazy in the spring, each picture perfect.

See all that green stuff? Google Earth reveals Savannah's many lush squares.

But, a year ago, I never thought about things like, say, precipitation. Savannah gets over three and a half inches of rain in April, and I'd really like it if none of those inches fall on me, my groom, or my wedding dress.

Given that, our only restrictions in the ceremony venue hunt are the option of shelter, and that the setting be outdoor and (at this point, even just vaguely) pretty. Oh, and that it be affordable for a broke grad student.

Why oh why is that too much to ask?!

Til Death Do Us Part

My fiancé and I awoke Saturday morning, fully rested, mildly hungover, and eager to tackle those two words newly resident in our house — WEDDING PLANNING. We went out to a lovely breakfast at J. Christopher's, visited the extremely knowledgeable jewelers at F.P.Wortley, and then headed, without ado (sorry Dad), to the tattoo parlor.

Allow me to provide you some insight. This is the man, my fiancé, whom I guided through a claustrophobic panic attack on a commercial jet. The man whose hand I held, stark white, after a dramatic incident when his blood was drawn. And this is the man who never dreamed he'd get a tattoo, because nothing could ever be worth the pain, the agony, and, worst of all, the permanence of such a gesture.

And here he is, peacefully feigning sleep, while I reveal my excitement.

The truth is, we were giddy about our new marks. Each other's initials, to go beneath the rings, and to forever signify a union we will soon make tangible with flowers, vows, and enthusiastic tears. (And champagne!)

An N on my hand, and a C on his. Proof of our eternal love and his newfound cool. Now, on to more wedding planning!

Happy Anniversary!

Today is our one-month engagement anniversary. For any of you out there still wondering: yes, I plan on celebrating that. Namely, I plan on celebrating it with a healthy home-cooked meal, a bottle of champagne, and canoodling with the future hubby.

Nathaniel doesn't know this yet, so let's hope he's lazy about reading the blog tonight.

Wedding planning continues to progress, as it ought to with less than nine months left! We've all but locked in our dream reception location, and ideas for the ceremony are flooding in.

I'll leave you in suspense on the "deets" for now, but I offer this adorable photo slideshow from our engagement night as consolation.

Happy anniversary!

NOW it's a party!

I've finally managed to cross something off the looming Wedding To-Do list: Establish the bridal party.

I would never have guessed what a challenging step this is. Nate and I are lucky enough to have many wonderful, close friends and huge, loving families. Choosing just a few people to stand up with us was a bit like picking only one flavor of cake. (Oh, wait, I have to do that too.)

But, without further ado, I am thrilled to announce the attendants.

Ike - "Man" of Honor

Ike has been my best friend since our freshman year of college. When we graduated, he moved to Chicago (there we are at Navy Pier) and I to Savannah. He has been by my side through so many ups and downs in life — I can't wait to have him literally at my side for this!

Connie - Matron of Honor

This is my aunt Connie and (baby) me. She isn't actually my aunt, but she was my mother's best friend from the time they were my age. I'm so thrilled that she'll be a part of the ceremony and help me honor my mother's memory on a day I'll be missing her badly.

Robin - Bridesmaid

Robin is my sister-in-law; here she is with my brother Shawn. She also happens to be one of my favorite people ever! Also super exciting is that their beautiful daughter, my niece, Ashlee Dale will be our flower girl.

Megan - Bridesmaid

I've known Megan since high school, when we attempted breaking the Guinness World Record for longest gum wrapper chain. Though we didn't succeed, the attempt was admirable. She also happens to be an amazing photographer, and I hope will be honoring us with her crazy skills at the wedding, too!

Nate's groomsmen will include his two wonderful brothers and two of his oldest friends. They don't know yet that I'll be putting them in pink ties. Shh!

The only problem is that, of all these precious people, only one of them (Nate's brother Eric) is in Savannah! I hope we can talk our other dear friends into some late nights of invitation assembly and wedding prep.

Location, Location, Location.

After a wonderful but sleepless weekend competing in Savannah's 48 Hour Film Project, Nathaniel and I are back at wedding planning. (A project that's also tending to be wonderful and sleepless.)

The name of the game right now is location, location, location. We can't send out invitations until we send out save-the-dates, and we can't send out save-the-dates until we set a date, and we can't set a date until we confirm a venue, and we can't confirm a venue until we pick one!

We've already had our hopes dashed on a couple of ideas, like Oatland Island wildlife center and the garden at the Maritime Museum. The former because they don't allow alcohol, and the latter because they were literally going to have to remove our arms and legs in order to cover the cost. But we venture onward!

Your faithful bride and groom, hunting wedding venues.

We got up early today (those of you who know how unusual this is may now express your awe) and continued our hunt. We first visited UGA's Bamboo Farm, but decided its location on the outskirts of town made it too undesirable.

On the (long) drive back, though, we were offered an opportunity to follow our wedding planning instincts and obey a nondescript sign that pointed the way to "Botanical Gardens." The detour was no disappointment! We found a beautiful garden full of fragrant blooming roses and vivid greenery.

The mysterious and beautiful Botanical Gardens.

Finding no one in the farmhouse adjacent to the garden (it was flanked on its other side by a hospice), we called the phone number on the sign. This began a long and not necessarily fruitful conversation between Groom and Garden Lady, in which all that was definitively discerned was that we may or may not be allowed to have a wedding there, it may or may not be within our price range, and we'd definitely need to secure a port-a-potty.

Nathaniel, struggling to communicate with Garden Lady.

All in all, our hunt was not entirely successful. We have a lot of leads and no guarantees. That's okay, though. According to my wedding magazines, we're only four months behind schedule!

Procrastination Proclamation

I'm starting to think that, instead of telling people we got engaged, we should say we got hectic. I feel like I haven't caught my breath in the past two weeks — of course that's due at least as much to work and school as it is wedding planning, but go with it.

Being something of a procrastinator myself, I wouldn't normally be sweating an April event while it's barely July. The problem is, all my bridal magazines (you heard me right — I'm reading bridal magazines like it's my job) inform me I should have firmed up a guest list, set a date, appointed the wedding party, and sent out save-the-dates, oh, months ago.

Months ago!

My fiancé, a man whose sense of urgency (or lack thereof) earned him the family nickname of "a son and doddler both," is slightly less alarmed by this information.

Still, with my prodding, he's been a huge help in getting some of the first to-do's tackled. For instance, we've managed to draft a guest list and keep it hovering artfully around, we hope, 100 guests. (This, you'll agree, is a superhuman feat, both of us being the youngest of six kids and members of rather enormous families.) We've also picked colors, set our sights on a few possible venues, and tentatively chosen a Saturday in April.

The groom, obediently perusing a wedding mag.

Oh, and we're doing a lot of whispering, sighing blissfully, and looking deeply into each other's eyes. That counts as wedding planning, right?

Two households, both alike in dignity . . .

. . . In fair Savannah, where we lay our scene.

(OK, quoting Romeo and Juliet is probably a big wedding planning no-no. See how clueless I am?)

Before we delve into the intricacies of handhewn invitations, mermaid style dresses versus A-line, and the subtle differences between being flat-broke and being desperately broke, I thought it best to offer you our story's SparkNotes.

The Setting

Our humble apartment in Savannah, Georgia, on a street lined with magnolias.

The Cast

Charlotte (Yours Truly)

Lover of words, the ocean, cooking, organizing things by color, and indie music. M.F.A. candidate in writing at the Savannah College of Art and Design. Freelance writer, editor, and wordsmith -- say, you should hire her!

Nathaniel

News videographer by day, independent filmmaker by night, and all-around good guy. Tall, dark, handsome. Quoted as saying, post-proposal, "Now you [Charlotte] can do the rest of the planning, right?"

Lolita

Our little adopted mutt. Enjoys long walks, ear rubs, and anything beef-flavored. Reduces household stress by curling up in obliging laps. Increases it by eating underwear. Over-all, hard not to love.

The Goal

To plan the perfect wedding with no experience, no money, and no stress. And to tell YOU all about it!