Wedding planning is more fun when you don't do any actual planning

I got engaged to the love of my life, my fiance Chris, a little over a year ago. It was one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, and I’m truly psyched to become his old lady. Whenever anyone asks me how the wedding planning is going, I smile and tell them, “Just fabulous!”

But the thing is, I’m not actually doing any planning.

I’m not sure how I lucked out of this whole thing, but I haven’t had to make one decision for this wedding. Mostly because we’ve decided to have a plan-free wedding.

I realize this sounds like I just wrote: “We’re riding unicorns to Mars to meet the ghost of Abraham Lincoln.” But it really is true.

Let me try to explain.

My fiance and I are not “wedding” people. We don’t really care much for the pomp and circumstance of formal events (unless it’s a dog show, we go nuts for those). We don’t like to have to follow the rigid standards of things like sending RSVPs, buying gifts, fussing over seating assignments, or (God forbid) showing up to special events sober. So for the past few years of casual participation in other people’s life events, we haven’t really paid much attention to how such things are done.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m in love, and I’m thrilled to be getting married. My engagement was the happiest moment of my life. The idea of running around and calling my special someone “Mr. Rebecca” will never get old to me, but planning a wedding? Let’s just say my enthusiasm falls a bit short.

The first thing we were advised to do was think of a guest list. In no particular order, here’s who we came up with on our first draft: Michelle Obama, Gallagher, Captain Crunch, this one guy I saw at the 7-Eleven who looks sort of like Barry Manilow, Felix the Cat, the ghost of Margaret Thatcher (don’t ask me, my fiance came up with that one), and a photograph of Bjork. Not the real Bjork. Just a nice photo.

I submitted the list to my mother, who promptly insisted I show her a recent drug test. After threatening to disown me and telling me I “needed to get serious about the whole thing,” she suggested going through my old contacts from high school and inviting some of my friends. That took me about 30 seconds because I literally hate everyone I went to high school with and the only thing I would ever invite any of them to is a ceremony where I turn into a witch and throw them all into a volcano. I’m actually seriously considering doing that in lieu of our wedding ceremony because we wouldn’t have to worry about place settings and centerpiece ideas either.

We were then told we needed to pick a theme. I had the idea of doing “Rustic Opium Den,” and Chris came up “Guess Which Slice of Cake is Poisoned?” but this and other brilliant ideas were all pooh-poohed by stodgy family members who claim they have our best interests at heart but clearly just hate our true love.

Next, I was supposed to pick a wedding dress. Because apparently wearing your bathrobe over a pair of torn jeans and a T-shirt that reads “kiss my grits” isn’t “elegant” enough for the freeloaders who want to silently judge me and all my life decisions as I wed the love of my life. Also, Chris is apparently wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles costume regardless of where or how we get married, so I don’t see why I need to put on airs.

I know this all sounds absurd and yes purposely comedic (hey, that’s what they pay me for around here). But here’s the nugget of truth that lives in all comedy bits: We don’t want to let the stress and labor of planning a wedding get in the way of our actual wedding. We’re not doing that to ourselves or each other. All that matters is that we get married and live happily ever after; it’s as simple as that. Our plan is that whenever we feel like today’s the day, we’re going to find a place and get our “I do’s” done.

No fancy invitations, no overpriced tissue that for some reason has to go in an envelope most people just throw out, no hors d’oeuvres that look like a science experiment gone wrong, and best of all, no anxiety.

So if you happen to see two grown adults dressed like someone’s grandchildren on Christmas morning saying their vows in a Taco Bell at 1 a.m., come over and say hello. You’ve just scored yourself a free invite to our wedding.

Arts and Lifestyle Writer Rebecca Rose is totally serious about not planning her wedding. Contact her at rrose@santamariasun.com.