Over the Thanksgiving weekend the girlfriend and I ran some wedding errands in Des Moines. The plan is to have a simple backyard party. No one will be giving anyone away. No one will be walking down any aisles. No bridesmaids. No bouquets.  We want simple. We want good food, good beer and we want to share it with the people we love. That simple idea turns out not to be so simple.

There are so many decisions to make. Do we do a cocktail hour? What color should the napkins be? What about music? Kegs or beer bottles? Plastic cups or glass? What about for the kids? What if it rains? Should we rent a tent? Where will everyone park? What if the zombie apocalypse is upon us?

I know it can still be simple. I believe in my heart that the day I get married can be lovely instead of stressful. I believe we can have fun and so can our friends.  I know that whatever we choose will be perfect. It will be perfect, I know it, if we can just get off this terrifyingly unsteady swinging bridge of decisions.

I also know – because it’s fucking awesome, this being in love business – that even if the wedding happens on top of the swinging bridge, in the middle of a goddamn hurricane, during the end of times, it will be wonderful.  (I just have to remember that when I’m thinking about what type of chair to rent.)

Ok, I’m going to stop before this metaphor gets really out of control.