Somewhere around the two and a half week mark, a eerie total calm settled over me. Last week I looked around and realized I had a large event to throw in just over two weeks… and my brain flipped a switch. I went from bride-mind to producer mind. I’ve mentioned before that after knowing each other for nine years ) what got David and I together was being co-producers of a small theatre company we started in New York. Producing is something that comes easily to me, something I understand.
So the switch flipped, and I calmly went back to my spreadsheets. I had chats with our wedding stage manager (you can call her captain of the bridal brigade, but we all know that a brilliant stage manager is the lynch pin of a smooth production). I wrote prop lists. Suddenly I knew what I was doing again. CALM.
This weekend, we ran all around the Bay Area (because we are pretty sure that by next weekend we will not give a f*ck about wedding details anymore). We had a meeting with our caterer to go over logistics. I walked in, flipped open my notebook to my three page spreadsheet with a detailed color coded timeline for the weekend.
Me: I don’t know if you remember, but we used to produce theatre…
Caterer: I remembered the second you opened your binder.
Later, she introduced us to the woman who would be in charge at our venue.
Me: Hi! Your managing our event.
Me: Oh, um, I mean our wedding.
Then finally, I went to the hair salon to get my final pre-wedding cut and low-lights/white hair covering. We’re sitting around the end of the day empty salon, listening to Lilly Allen. I’ve just found and interview with Dave Eggers and I’m trying to hold up the magazine and finish reading it while my stylist cuts.
Him: (Trying to figure out how to cut my fringe) So where are you parting your hair for the wedding, the right or the left?
Me: I think we’re parting it on the right. Wait, no I can’t remember if we’re parting it or not.
(I immediately hold the magazine back up to try to finish the article. I mean, it’s a Dave Eggers interview for Christs sake.)
Him: I think you are the calmest bride I’ve ever seen in my life.
Me: What? Really? That’s a nice thing to say. Why?
Him: At this juncture most brides would be on their cell phones, calling people so desperate to find out where their hair was parted that you would literally think their bank account had been frozen.
And so it goes. Soon I’ll pass off the producing baton to Kate, Captain of the Wedding Warriors, and stage manager extraordinaire. Once a show goes up it doesn’t belong to the producer or the director anymore, it belongs to the stage manager. And then, I’m going to pause, breathe it in, and get ready to party.