Diary of a Mad Bride

by Laura Wolf

  She offered to help.

  I may have been overly medicated, but I wasn’t stupid. I know her offer was well-intentioned, but the best-laid plans…I could just see it: I let her help with some small task and before I know it she’s wiping everyone’s nose, handing out multiplication flash cards, and ordering ninety hot lunches from the school cafeteria. With value and size as her main objectives, TASTE is destined to be overlooked.

  Despite Stephen’s insistence that it might be a good idea, I politely declined.

  march 31st

  Stephen was panicked because the computer program he’s been working on was almost complete when they found a flaw in it. His company’s future is depending on the success of this program. If the program fails or isn’t released by early September he’s out of a job. So I understand that he’s under a lot of pressure.

  But does that mean we have to get PLAID dishes?

  No joke. There we were, standing in the middle of Bloomingdale’s trying to register for wedding gifts, and Stephen decides he wants the plaid dishes. Plaid. Like that damn couch isn’t enough for him. He wants to see plaid at every meal for the rest of our lives, because you know we’re keeping these dishes until the day we die. They’re BONE CHINA, for Christ’s sake. We’ll never spend the money on another set.

  It was our first real fight since the engagement. He refused to budge and I refused to give in. We were at a complete impasse. And then it hit me—How can we get married if we can’t even agree on a china pattern?

  So I broke down in tears.

  april 1st

  Prudence doesn’t want to get married. That’s what her expression’s all about. Trapped against her will in BB’s glossy cover, Prudence is straining to warn me, “Don’t do it, Amy. You can still turn back!”

  april 2nd—2 A.M.

  If I burn my hateful “Things To Do” list, will it wash away my woes?

  Official THINGS TO DO List

  1. Choose wedding date

  2. Tell boss wedding date

  3. Vacation time for honeymoon

  4. Decide on honeymoon

  5. Get minister

  6. Choose reception venue

  7. Make guest list

  8. Choose maid of honor

  9. Choose best man

  10. Register for gifts

  11. Arrange for engagement party

  12. Buy engagement ring

  13. Buy wedding rings

  14. Buy wedding dress

  15. Choose maid of honor dress

  16. Order wedding cake

  17. Hire caterer

  18. Hire band for reception

  19. Order flowers for ceremony

  20. Buy shoes

  21. Plan rehearsal dinner

  22. Invites to rehearsal dinner

  23. Hire musicians for ceremony

  24. Decide on dress code

  25. Get marriage license

  26. Hire videographer

  27. Hire photographer

  28. Order table flowers

  29. Order bouquets

  30. Order boutonnieres for men

  31. Order nosegays for women

  32. Order invitations

  33. Decide on wine selection

  34. Postage for invitations

  35. Choose hairstyle and makeup

  36. Buy gifts for attendants

  37. Buy thank-you notes

  38. Announce wedding in newspaper

  39. Buy headpiece

  40. Buy traveler’s checks for honeymoon

  41. Apply for visas

  42. Get shots and vaccinations

  43. Order tent if necessary

  44. Order chairs/tables if necessary

  45. Make budget

  46. Divide expenses

  47. Make table-seating charts

  48. Choose bridesmaid dress

  49. Decide on menu

  50. Decide on hors d’oeuvres

  51. Decide on dinner-service style

  52. Decide on staff-guest ratio

  53. Decide seated or buffet

  54. Reserve vegetarian meals

  55. Reserve band/photographer/videographer meals

  56. Make photo list

  57. Choose hotel for wedding night

  58. Hire limo for church-reception transport

  59. Buy guest book for reception

  60. Find hotel for out-of-towners

  61. Decide on liquor selection

  62. Hire bartenders

  63. Verify wheelchair accessibility

  64. Choose processional music

  65. Choose recessional music

  66. Choose cocktail music

  67. Choose reception music

  68. Choose ceremony readings

  69. Prepare birdseed instead of rice

  70. Schedule manicure/pedicure/wax

  april 2nd

  My second fitting with Katrina. It took every ounce of strength not to burst into tears. The dress was five inches too long and three inches too tight in the hips.

  I can’t believe I’m paying for this.

  Meanwhile, Backstabbing Barry has begun to work overtime on a regular basis. Needless to say, he’s taking pains to publicize this fact. I can only guess he’s doing it to make me look bad. But since he seems to accomplish less work in sixty hours than I do in forty-five, I’m not going to worry.

  Too much.

  Does anyone know when Martha Stewart’s Weddings magazine comes out?

  april 3rd

  I don’t know how it happened. One minute everything was fine, sort of, then suddenly things were spinning out of control and—

  But I should start at the beginning.

  Due to some bizarre cosmic alignment Stephen left work early enough to join me at the florist’s. It was during this visit that the florist finally decided to mention that the tropical flowers I want for the wedding, the very flowers we’d been discussing for the last three weeks, would have to be specially shipped from the Pacific. At a cost so astronomical I swear I thought he was calculating in yen.

  I was furious. Why had we wasted all this time talking about tropical flowers if they were going to cost more than a new kidney? I immediately threw a fit.

  It was around here that Stephen decided to pay some attention. Gently putting his hand on my shoulder, Stephen, my knight in shining armor, my hero, looked that idiot florist straight in the eye and said, “Would you please excuse us a minute.”

  Huh?

  And before I could express my disbelief, he was dragging me out of the store, “Amy, you’ve got to relax. You’re acting like a complete lunatic because lotus blossoms are indigenous to the Pacific.”

  “It’s ginger blossoms, not lotus blossoms. Now, what’s your point?”

  “My point is that it’s a reality that precedes your birth and will far outlast your lifetime. So who cares? It’s just a bunch of flowers.”

  Just a bunch of flowers? How dare he be so cavalier about all the energy and time I’d spent trying to create a moving and memorable wedding on an anorexic budget while he’s been sitting in front of a souped-up television monitor scratching his ass with a programming manual.

  “Gee, Stephen. Let’s think—who cares? Hmmm…That’s a toughie, but wait, I think I know the answer…I CARE!”40

  It was around here that I noticed people on the sidewalk edging away from us. Like we might be dangerous, or even worse, contagious. In a matter of seconds we’d become that bickering couple you hurry past on the street and feel really sorry for. Then you feel really happy it’s not you. Except now it was me. My day had come.

  “You’re right, Amy. I understand that you care. And that’s real touching—”

  Wait! Is that sarcasm I hear sneaking into this heartfelt reply?

  “But it’s not that big a deal. We’ll get something else. Something cheaper. Now relax. You’re starting to sound like Mandy.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know exactly what it means. Mandy
went nuts over that crazy wedding of hers.”

  (Here’s where it got really good.)

  “The flowers, the carriage, the cake…” Then with the world’s most pathetic expression of sorrow, he shook his head. “Poor Jon.”

  Poor JON!

  “Are you kidding me? That loser would be lucky to get bitch-slapped by someone as great as Mandy. That she actually married him is fucking unbelievable. You can’t possibly take his side.”

  “This isn’t about sides, Amy. It’s about perspective. And you’ve completely lost yours. First the bridal registry. Now these flowers…I didn’t think I was marrying someone like this.”

  STOP. EVERYTHING.

  What the hell did that mean? It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t heard Stephen’s warm, embracing laugh in a VERY long time.

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Well, it sounded like a threat. Like maybe if you’d known I was someone like this, you wouldn’t have proposed.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then why’d you say it? You could have said, ‘Gee, I think Skipper is a nice name for a dog.’ Or, ‘Wow, the vegetarian lasagna is delish!’ But no. You chose to say you didn’t think you were marrying someone like this!”

  “You know what? You’re right. I said it and I meant it! You’re running around screaming about lotus blossoms—”

  “Ginger blossoms!”

  “Whatever! It might as well be daisies! I like daisies. But did you ever ask me what I like? No! Instead you’re being a total pain in the ass, which is really disappointing, not to mention a gigantic turnoff!”

  “Oh yeah? Well, the hell with you!”

  And I stormed away. Never once looking back. That was five hours ago. And I still haven’t heard a word from Stephen.

  I don’t think we’re getting married anymore.

  * * *

  40 And let’s be real—so does he, the Big Faker. He may not care about the flowers, but trust me, he’s got his issues. Or have we forgotten who whined about not wanting Father MacKenzie because he was “creepy.” And who insisted on no finger foods. And who made us reschedule our entire wedding in order to accommodate the National Basketball Association!

  april 4th—1 A.M.

  What am I going to do? How am I going to tell my parents? My friends? Barry?

  I’ve already called in sick for work tomorrow. I left a message on Kate’s voice mail. There’s just no way I can face the world. There’s no way I can get out of this bed.

  I am completely numb.

  Part of me wants to call Stephen, part of me wants him to call me, and part of me never wants to speak to him again. I don’t know what to do. What to think. What to feel.

  All I do know is that every time I look at my emerald engagement ring, I cry.

  april 4th

  My apartment has never seemed so hollow. With the exception of an occasional car horn or squeaky bus brake from the street below, my apartment is as silent and still as a tomb. As if it’s been sealed off from the rest of the world. Forgotten. I feel forgotten.

  I wish the phone would ring.

  To remind myself that I’m still alive I’ve decided to keep a steady stream of food entering my body. Except that after four boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese, the only thing I can taste is doubt. Am I relieved or completely devastated?

  If I thought planning a wedding was tough, I can’t imagine how difficult it is to unplan one.

  I finally called Anita around noon. Except she’s out of town on a business trip—some profile of a thirteen-year-old boy who recorded a top-ten single in his uncle’s root cellar—and won’t be back until tomorrow. So I called Mandy. Because I really needed a hug.

  Within the hour Mandy stormed my apartment brandishing a basket filled with comfort food and self-help tapes, determined to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again.

  MANDY

  Ohmygod!

  Wrapping her arms around me, she embraced me like a soldier returning from war. I sank into her embrace.

  ME

  Thanks for coming over.

  MANDY

  Of course I came over. You need me. Besides, my two o’clock showing got canceled. Now, how are you?

  ME

  I think I’m numb.

  Mandy glanced with disapproval at the mountain of Kraft mac and cheese boxes littering my floor.

  MANDY

  No wonder. Now tell me what happened.

  Well, it all started when Stephen accused me of being like you….

  ME

  I don’t know. First we were talking about flowers, then he was talking about my behavior, and then I was storming off.

  Mandy popped a self-help CD into my stereo. Suddenly some woman with clogged nasal passages was bleating in syncopated rhythms over a tambourine track. I climbed back into bed.

  MANDY

  I don’t understand. I thought things were going so well—you ordered those invitations, didn’t you?

  ME

  Yes. In only five weeks I’ll have 120 invitations to a wedding that’s not happening. I’ve got a lifelong supply of scrap paper.

  MANDY

  Don’t be ridiculous. This is just a bump in the road. Things will smooth out.

  Then she looked at me. Panic in her eyes.

  MANDY

  Please tell me you haven’t told anyone about this.

  ME

  I left a message for Anita, but that’s it.

  MANDY

  Thank goodness. The last thing you want is to hear this story repeated at some cocktail party next year…. Which makes me think. We should definitely remind Anita to keep her trap shut.

  Now really, how are you?

  ME

  I’m mad. I’m sad. I’m relieved….

  Mandy removed two spoons and a pint of reduced-fat Ben & Jerry’s ice cream from her goody basket and climbed into bed with me.

  MANDY

  Here, have some ice cream.

  I obeyed.

  ME

  I’m serious, Mandy. It’s like I can’t think straight. And when I do, I just get so angry! You had to hear him. He couldn’t give a damn about all the work I’ve done for this wedding.

  MANDY

  Men are so spoiled. They want things their way, but they don’t want to work for it and they certainly don’t want to hear the gory details.

  ME

  Exactly!

  Mandy yanked the ice cream away from me.

  MANDY

  Don’t hog.

  I had forgotten that I was still eating it.

  ME

  Honestly, I’m beginning to see how this could all be for the best.

  MANDY

  If by “best” you mean a surefire way to grow old alone, then yes, breaking up with Stephen is a grand idea.

  ME

  He said I was a turnoff!

  MANDY

  Heat of the moment, inflamed passions…

  Isn’t he part Greek?

  ME

  No.

  MANDY

  Well, anyway, you’re very emotional right now. You and Stephen just had a little tiff. You love him. He loves you. That’s all that matters.

  ME

  Mandy, you’re not listening. It wasn’t a little tiff. He called me a pain in the ass. We had a huge, make-a-scene-in-broad-daylight blowout.

  MANDY

  You argued in public?

  Mandy shivered.

  ME

  Yes! I’m telling you, it’s over. The whole thing is finished!

  I couldn’t help myself, I was crying again. Mandy wrapped her arms around me.

  MANDY

  Nothing’s finished. I’ve got a plan that will fix everything. First we put a new outgoing message on your answering machine. You’ll sound happy and peppy like someone who’s having a lot of casual sex. That way if Stephen calls, he’ll panic and apologize immediately. But if he doesn’t call I’ll get Jon to call him ab
out some silly computer question. Jon will get the scoop and report back to us and…

  Comforted by hugs and plied with reduced-fat dairy products, I continued to listen as Mandy outlined her calculated plan to reunite me with Stephen. And though I was uncertain it would work, and even more uncertain that I wanted it to work, it did occur to me that Mandy had missed her calling. She really should have gone into the military.

  MANDY

  Don’t worry. We’ll have you walking down that aisle if it kills me.

  april 4th—10 P.M.

  After spending the entire day in my apartment I was overwhelmed by the need to see people. To make contact with the outside world. To breathe the semipolluted air of car exhaust and dry-cleaning fumes. So I threw a long coat over my sweats and went to the newsstand. Just because my life had ground to a halt didn’t mean the rest of the world had.

  Even at 10 P.M. the streets were well populated. And everywhere I looked I saw men. Men with women, men with men, men by themselves. Men leaving restaurants, going to bars, walking their dogs, talking to themselves, and scratching their balls. That’s when it occurred to me that I could flirt with these men. That as a single woman I could introduce myself, chat them up, and even bring them home.41 The hell with Stephen. Let’s see if any of these fine young gentlemen thought I was a turnoff.

  So when I caught the newsstand guy checking me out I stood tall and proud—shoulders back, boobs forward—until I remembered that I hadn’t showered today and that perhaps he wasn’t so much enamored with my looks as he was disgusted by the oily clump of hair matted to my scalp. Or my face, which was bloated from sobs and high-sodium snack foods. And just as my boobs were falling back and my shoulders were slumping forward, I noticed the display of bridal magazines behind the counter.

  I bought People and called it a night.

  * * *

  41 Not that I’ve ever brought a complete stranger home. (At least not since college.) After all, they could be psychotics with hacksaw fantasies or cross-dressers who look better in lingerie than I do.