Last night, I had a fitting with my stylist for the prenup shoot this Friday. I went home happy, and remembered to confirm with the venue the time we were going to start on Friday — 6am.
Imagine my surprise when (a) the venue didn’t receive any message confirming our booking, and (b) they booked the venue to another client.
Here’s the math:
(Pia + wedding anxiety)^caffeine = crisis
Here’s the image:
So at 11pm I woke people up. I posted a semi-desperate but carefully worded Facebook post (the formatting of which suddenly said, “looking for recommendations” — Facebook knows), looking for a new venue for an event happening in two days.
The fiancé was gracious. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe we weren’t supposed to shoot there. Maybe there’s a reason why there’s blood spatter on the ceiling when we went for an ocular visit.
We dared not ask.
I had a few hours of troubled sleep, and I woke up sleepy. I decided to get up and push through the day. I trudged through several prenup shoot-related errands. I even went shopping today (context: I only go to the mall and partake in consumerist culture when absolutely necessary; a photo shoot is something to which I don’t want to go just as myself).
Good fortune takes preparation. – fortune cookie
Landmark wasn’t so crowded. Four hours later, I got a pair of dark silver peep toe shoes, a flesh-colored inner wear for a translucent lace gown I have to wear at the shoot, and four accessories. Together they cost PhP3,000 (USD60). Shopping, I hate. Good finds, they’re okay.
I never go to the mall not knowing what I need. Knowing the items you need eliminates your choices to the details: color, texture, comfort. Roaming aimlessly around a mall is asking to have your money separated from you. See also: buyer’s remorse.
By the time I got home, the problem solves itself. Eighteen fantastic venue recommendations later, with the help of my wedding coordinator and stylist, I booked a venue. The photos were promising, the design is from another time.
Wedding planning is never easy. You have to prepare more than a year in advance, make thousands of tiny decisions that lead to a big future event. If you are like me, who live in the moment and have no capacity for building things with longevity in mind, it’s almost incomprehensible. Borobudur, man. I’ll tell you about Borobudur in another post.
So I rely upon the kindness of the people around me, the friends who still stick around, the wedding vendors who advocate for my client satisfaction and well-being, and the act of total surrender in the face of experiences I have yet the language for.
That’s a skill that took a quarter of a century to learn.