Chapter Seven: Sezzy and Boy Gots no Cash

In your wildest wedding dreams as a little girl, you imagine pouffy dresses, tiaras, and castles. You dwell on the step, pause, step down the aisle. You fantasize about your "prince."

The last thing on your mind is budget.

And yet, as I read wedblog upon wedblog, this subject keeps coming up. It's the same heartbreaking realization that you get after you graduate and begin your mind-numbing first job. You crunch numbers, write code, work retail to get by, or clock ridiculous hours and all the while you're thinking "I'm working too hard." Maybe even, "The expensive stuff I thought I wanted... just isn't worth all this."

I'm right there with you.

Boy and I want to be married, really, we do. For all purposes we already are. We live together and have three furkids: Neville, Molly, and our doggie Jack-Jack.

Boy and Jack-Jack

Before we got our puppers, we talked for a long time about what it would mean. A cat is one thing (I love cats, really), but a dog is a serious committment. I just recently found out that one of my oldest friends went through a nasty breakup with his long-time girlfriend. She got the dog. Boy and I are not doing that!

So Jack-Jack? Big decision. We talked about it, and we knew what it meant. I've never had to worry about the committment thing. The idea of a wedding is more about thanking our friends and family for supporting us and celebrating the creation of a new family. Our family.

What are we waiting for? Mostly it's the surprise. It's the one thing he gets to plan as totally his. And the money. Part of my feminist literature studying brain recognizes the ring as a completely ridiculous sexist tradition. Why should the guy have to shell out thousands (or 3 month's salary- crazy!) for a shiny present for the chick? Fortunately, the little girl side of me throws a temper tantrum when she hears that stupid pretentious scholar.

I want the shiny. But I know we both need to save. Because I'm telling you, the wedding I want:

Is waaaaay too expensive for a teacher's salary. Or my parents. Or Boy. Or, let's face it, all of us combined.

Sigh... Miss Maggie, you and your fantastic wedding dresses will just have to be patient. If you figure out how to... please let this little girl know!