Egypt, anyone?
Foxy Cleopatra and I have been up to our eyeballs in various minutiae that need to be sorted out for the wedding in September. Lately, she's vacillates between yelling and crying, while I have stuck mainly to just yelling. It's more stressful than you can imagine, unless you've been run through this emotional and fiscal gauntlet yourself.
It does not appear that everything will be done in time for the wedding, for which we accept full responsibility. Foxy and I failed to properly arrange our priorities from the beginning. That aside, it seems that every time one of us so much as sneezes, another thousand dollars is added to the bottom-line cost for the affair. It's really gotten out of hand. We may now be forced to abort the pancake breakfast, raffle, and Fantastical Zoological Garden we planned for the cocktail hour. (The gentleman who runs the Albino Liger exhibit will be crushed by the news, as interest in all things liger just isn't where it used to be.)
As a hasty and exasperated solution to this fiasco, Foxy and I are visiting the idea of moving the gala to Cairo, Egypt. We have contacted the Oberoi Mena House, located in the shadows of the Pyramids, and they have promised us twice the opulence at half the price. And if the Encylcopaedia Britannica is anything to go by, Cairo is much more interesting than West Orange, New Jersey.
Here's the catch: Not a lot of our friends and family will be able or even willing to attend. It's either too expensive, or their minds are too narrow for a camel to pass through. More than a few Americans are afraid of all things Arabic at the moment. Many of our invitees, after having the concept informally proposed to them, informed us of their sincere concern that they will become the object of an insidious terror plot the moment they set foot on Egyptian soil. Wagging a finger and declaring, to their faces, how ridiculous they are has not had the soothing effect we'd hoped for.
So a lot of people wouldn't be there to partake in the blessed good time being had in the backyard of the Cheops residence. Who cares, right? Foxy does. Like most young American women I know, she dreams of having a big, elegant, and perfectly-executed wedding where she can play Princess-For-a-Day. Or for five hours at least.
So that's what we've been attempting to give her. But if you take a step back and look at the enormous hassle and appalling cost, it starts to appear a bit silly. Even to Foxy.
So we find ourselves in quite a quandry.
It does not appear that everything will be done in time for the wedding, for which we accept full responsibility. Foxy and I failed to properly arrange our priorities from the beginning. That aside, it seems that every time one of us so much as sneezes, another thousand dollars is added to the bottom-line cost for the affair. It's really gotten out of hand. We may now be forced to abort the pancake breakfast, raffle, and Fantastical Zoological Garden we planned for the cocktail hour. (The gentleman who runs the Albino Liger exhibit will be crushed by the news, as interest in all things liger just isn't where it used to be.)
As a hasty and exasperated solution to this fiasco, Foxy and I are visiting the idea of moving the gala to Cairo, Egypt. We have contacted the Oberoi Mena House, located in the shadows of the Pyramids, and they have promised us twice the opulence at half the price. And if the Encylcopaedia Britannica is anything to go by, Cairo is much more interesting than West Orange, New Jersey.
Here's the catch: Not a lot of our friends and family will be able or even willing to attend. It's either too expensive, or their minds are too narrow for a camel to pass through. More than a few Americans are afraid of all things Arabic at the moment. Many of our invitees, after having the concept informally proposed to them, informed us of their sincere concern that they will become the object of an insidious terror plot the moment they set foot on Egyptian soil. Wagging a finger and declaring, to their faces, how ridiculous they are has not had the soothing effect we'd hoped for.
So a lot of people wouldn't be there to partake in the blessed good time being had in the backyard of the Cheops residence. Who cares, right? Foxy does. Like most young American women I know, she dreams of having a big, elegant, and perfectly-executed wedding where she can play Princess-For-a-Day. Or for five hours at least.
So that's what we've been attempting to give her. But if you take a step back and look at the enormous hassle and appalling cost, it starts to appear a bit silly. Even to Foxy.
So we find ourselves in quite a quandry.
posted by SD at 8:37 PM
1 Comments:
In my albiet limited experience, women tend to focus on the wedding, men focus on the marriage. Guess that has more to do with it being "the bride's day". It is great though, even as the groom you feel like a rockstar. Go with what you want, those who attend will be glad they did. If you do this for your guests, and not yourselves, you'll probably regret it.
My suggestion: Do it in Cairo and plan some sort of gathering in the US for those who won't travel. A few international couples I know did that and loved it. They were able to talk to their guests more b/c they weren't constrained by photographers and such. Hope this helps.
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