Setting Expectations for My Wedding

My wedding is still a year and a half away, and no, other than the date and the location, we have planned nothing (that's the whole point of being engaged for two-plus years). Still, I want to set some expectations about the celebration of my marriage right the hell now.

If you are married and have done the things I will not be doing at your wedding, or have not done the things I will be doing, I'm not hating. Please do not feel upset or judged. I 100% support every couple's right to plan the wedding they want, even if I think that wedding is boring and/or tacky. As long as you're happy, your wedding was perfect. After all, it's your Special Day. And this is what you can expect if you're taking part in my Special Day: 

There will be no cutesy wedding hashtag. These were okay at first, but we as a society have really taken them too far. Our wedding hashtag is #HannahAndSeth. Or you could just forego the hashtag entirely. There will be a professional photographer to capture the stuff we really care about; I'm not super concerned about missing any of the selfies you take with the other guests. And there will absolutely not be a theme, unless you consider "getting married" a theme. 

God is not invited to the wedding. Sorry. The fiancé and I aren't religious and our wedding will be a reflection of that. We respect the faiths of our friends and family, but please keep any concerns about our immortal souls to yourselves; we're not trying to discuss our possible eternal damnation with you on our Special Day. What does a heathen wedding ceremony even look like? Other than short? We're honestly not entirely sure yet. We went a liberal arts college and at least three-fourths of our friends participated in music extracurricularly, so there will be a lot of live music during the ceremony. There will be readings, probably. There will not, however, be any cheesy candle-lighting/sand-pouring business because I think it's anticlimactic. Mostly we're just going to say I do and then start drinking. 

Babies are super not invited to the wedding. Because they cry. Always. I have never been to a wedding ceremony that was free from the screech of an infant. It infuriates me when it happens at other peoples' nuptials and I am not about to have it at mine. Note that the "must be this tall to ride" age is TBD. Seth said 18 months; I said five years old. (I don't have a great handle on the child development timeline.) Ultimately, if you are not reasonably certain your progeny will be non-disruptive, said progeny is not allowed. Get a babysitter. 

We're skipping the reception line. I dread being at a wedding where I only know half of the couple, but I feel like I have to hug and congratulate each as if I'm actually friends with both of them. It's even worse when you're there as a plus-one and you really don't know the couple at all. I intend to spare any of the groom's friends I barely know and any plus-ones who I've hardly met the mutual discomfort of our forced interaction. If you are someone who cares about hugging one or both of us, we will make that happen on our own time.

I am not a DIY bride. Pinterest brides, I hate you 'cause I ain't you. If you can make hand-drawn signs and mason jars work for you, more power to ya. But I am not about it. Despite my best attempts to be crafty, my entire life has been a series of Pinterest fails, even before Pinterest existed. Do not expect to be wowed by my wedding decor. I am going to try my best to give my wedding the enchanted forest aesthetic I've always dreamed of, but I might just throw some tealights on the tables and call it good.

Free booze for all. It should go without saying, but. 

Planned reception activities will be minimal. A couple of the standard dances and a toast or two. Maybe a bouquet/garter toss, but that's about it. We're not at our reception to play the Newlywed Game, we're there to be newlyweds. You're sure as hell not at our reception to watch us play the Newlywed Game, you're there to eat our free food and drink our free booze. We get that. If you are invited to my wedding, it is because I like you, and, therefore, will not hold you hostage for hours as you watch my wedding party do a 15-minute, badly choreographed dance to the past year's DJ Earworm mashup. (However, my sorority sisters and I will be dancing to Paradise By the Dashboard Lights later in the night, in accordance with tradition and to Seth's chagrin. Gentlemen, please have your eye rolls at the ready.) 

There will be some dope dessert. Ultimately, I will measure the success of my wedding the same way I measure the success most events: by how much pastry I end up consuming.