April 28 – Had the florist meeting tonight, I brought along my trusty notebook so I could write poems during any downtime.  I finished my best friend’s parents’ poem, which was particularly challenging as her father always tends to grade my work.  “That piece in the paper last week was a little weak, I’d give it a C+,” or, “Not bad work on the last magazine article.  A-.”  Somewhere between the tulips and the roses I came up with:

“Knowing this poem would be critiqued,

I agonized over what to say,

What succession of profound words,

Could possibly prompt an A?”

I was relieved to have completed the poem but have no idea what I chose for the flowers.  I think they might be purple.

May 07 - My latest  motto is ‘less quality, more quantity’.  Whose idea was this, anyway?  I skipped the caterer’s tasting meeting – how badly can you screw up chicken?  Chicken … what rhymes with chicken?

May 15 – New rule: Because I can’t write a personalized poem to a stranger, I’m taking the easy way out.  Sorry in advance to all the people on Mike’s side of the family whom I’ve never met, but you now fall under the heading of ‘generic’.

“It’s a very special time for us,

As we become husband and wife.

We’re so glad you could be here to share,

This happy moment in our life.”

May 28 – I just received news that the Platt family called to say they wouldn’t be attending.  Forget about the seating arrangements and numbers that now have to be rearranged – I’m pissed because I had all four of their poems in the can!  From now on, nobody gets a poem until they’ve sent in their RSVP. 

June 06 – Each poem is written on fancy purple paper cut out with craft scissors (with the snazzy zigzag cut) with a sparkly pen in perfect penmanship.  They are then lovingly rolled into a tube and tied with purple ribbon, then the ribbon is scored so the ends curl in perfect symmetry.  This was fun the first ten times.  Now I wish we’d gone with the cookies.  Or eloped.

June 20 – One month and counting.  I’m not checking my e-mail because returning messages would require stringing words together, and I don’t want to write any more than I have to.  I finished Mike’s poem tonight:

“Michael Robert, you are the light,

That leads me through this life.

There is no moment I’ll cherish more,

Than when I become your wife.”

… and when I finish these damn poems.

July 05 – I can’t think.  The phone goes unanswered and I barely see What’s His Name.  He keeps mumbling something about picking out a cake.  Cake, shmake – I’ve got 12 more poems to write.

July 19 – It is the day - correction – night before the wedding and all the poems are finally complete!  I’ve never been so relieved in my life.  This undertaking is finally behind me.  I need sleep.  Apparently there’s some big do tomorrow that I’m going to.

July 20 – It was absolutely, positively the happiest day of my life.  Everything happened so seamlessly.  Mike looked ravishing and got misty-eyed when I floated down the aisle.  I spent the day in a roomful of people I loved, who had the warmest wishes and most thoughtful words for us.  I drifted on a bubble of bliss all day long.

There was a lot of buzz about some silly poems that everyone really enjoyed, but I was far too dazzled with my wonderful day and my even more wonderful new husband to pay much attention.

“The planning is over, I’m finally here,

The day I’ve taken his name.

Any stress I had has disappeared,

In a cloud of love and champagne.”