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.”

January 20th – Six months to the big day and I still haven’t the foggiest idea of what to offer the guests as wedding favours.  Like any bride worth her salt, I have big aspirations for an extraordinary idea to amaze all of my 110 guests.  I considered creating personalized CDs, but Mike and I decided our preference for hard rock could conflict with some other people’s tastes. Could dear Aunt Barb really appreciate my beloved Pearl Jam?  Sadly, I think not.

Feb 01 – I had a brainstorm: filling mason jars with the dry ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, the recipe neatly tucked in the middle.  I would pin a clever note on each jar, something to the effect of “hope our marriage is just as sweet”.  But during our practice trial, we quickly dismissed the idea.  With flour and chocolate chips strewn from one end of our small kitchen to the other, Mike and I quickly concluded that 59 more attempts would put more strain on our relationship than necessary.

Feb 05 – I thought live fish swimming in a glass bowl on each table would be charming.  My cat thought so, too. The good news is I didn’t need to buy cat food tonight.  Strike three.

Feb 17 (morning) – I always work best under pressure.  With the wedding five months away, I finally came up with – dare I say it – a brilliant idea.  I am going to write a personalized poem for each guest!  Not only can I make use of my talents as a writer, but this idea satisfies all my conditions for The Perfect Favour: unique, sentimental and most important, cheap, cheap, cheap.

Feb 17 (afternoon) – I’m so excited with my idea that I’ve called the entire wedding party and half my family to share the news.  ”Inspired!” gushes my friend.  ”Unique!” offers my sister.  ”Whatever” mumbles my fiance. I am flushed with pride and excitement.  This is the best wedding favour ever!

I do some rough calculations on the guest count and time line.  My excitement diminishes only slightly when I realize I have just committed to writing 110 poem in five months, while still finding time for florists, caterers, dress fittings, packing for the new house, closing the sale of the condo and – oh yeah – my pesky full-time job.  My heart is now skipping every other beat and a dull ache has developed in my chest.  

Feb 26 – I’ve quickly concluded that only each couple will get a poem, thereby magically slashing the workload by half.  This wedding planning is a piece of cake, I should do it professionally.  The first verse of every poem will be the same, only the second verse will be different, thereby offering everyone a quality two-verse poem that is still personalized and poignant.  The first verse:

I was able to hash out seven poems and still make my first dress fitting by getting the easy poems out of the way first.  I thought my dad might appreciate a tribute to him footing the bill:

“My falling in love cost you 20 grand

Yet you didn’t even moan,

When all you have to show for it,

Is this lousy little poem.”

But I went a more traditional route:

“My day would have never come to be,

If not with the help of you.

Thank you Mom and thank you Dad,,

For making my dreams come true.”

March 20 – I’m starting to run out of things that rhyme with ‘forever’ ‘love’ and ‘dreams’.

April 05 – I’m learning that not every poem can be sentimental.  So the rules are changing, depending on my relationship with the guest.  In the cast of the guitarist in Mike’s band, who has crappy taste in music, I wrote:

“I can’t help but notice Dear Friend,

Your taste in music aint worth a damn.,

Be good to your ears and nourish your soul,

For God’s sakes, start listening to Pearl Jam!”

Not exactly moving, but relevant.  Then there’s our colourful friend who has a penchant for body art, piercings and leather:

“We’re glad you could make it out today,

So we could enjoy your humour and wit.,

You’re one of the nicest people we know,

Certainly the first with a pierced nipple and lip.”

April 20 – Time is ticking … can I make my deadline?