In exactly one month’s time I will be walking the Green Mile…er I mean…down the aisle.
I am getting married!
After months of hardcore wedding planning, heated arguments, tantrums, tears, hysterical laughter, and the eventual adoption of an ‘I’ve gone past caring’ attitude, the big day is almost here.
Supposedly the three most stressful things in life are ‘Death’, ‘Marriage’ and ‘Moving’.
Well I can tell you that a GREEK marriage ranks right at the top.
I used to think that people who eloped to get married alone were completely crazy.
Now I realise that they were totally sane.
Planning a Greek wedding is similar to CIVIL WAR.
Let me explain the similarities (with help from wikipedia).
A Civil war is a war between two groups within the same (or culturally the same in this example) nation state (Cyprus/Greece), where the aim of one side (the parents) may be to take control of the country (or wedding) to achieve independence or to change policies (or to assert authority over where, when and how the wedding will take place).
Are you getting the gist?
The result is often large scale casualties (friends and relatives won’t speak to you for years if not invited) and the consumption of significant resources (our entire bank balance).
However, unlike civil war, the reasoning behind getting married is usually born out of a desire to share a lifetime of happiness with the person you love, (or to obtain a visa), and to show the world that you are now one, and will forever be at each other’s side, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part. (Ahhh..or maybe for some of you…ewww).
And so, despite all the chaos and stress, the cloud of anxiety has lifted and I am now entering the final stage of pre-marital emotions: hysteria.
The church and venue are booked, the photographer approved of, the cake tasted, the wedding dress fitted, the suits made to measure, the bridesmaids chosen, the wedding rings engraved.
All that’s left to do now is: pick a song for the first dance, buy gifts for the guests, check the wedding car, pick up the dress and suits, pack and repack the suitcases, somehow devise a seating plan, get the rings cleaned, panic buy more clothes, and above all REMAIN CALM.
If you had told me a couple of years ago, that in 2012 I would be getting married in a traditional Greek ceremony, to a Greek-Cypriot man, with practically the whole of Cyprus in attendance, I would have choked on my pork souvlaki.
But here we are.
And just in case you were wondering, no I will not be arriving on a Donkey.
Let the countdown begin!