Putting the Party in Wedding Party: Choosing the "Circus"

WWDD? This is a question I ask myself quite often, "What would David (Tutera) Do?!" David Tutera would probably NOT suggest 10 bridesmaids. David Tutera would quite possibly shake his head, roll his eyes and tell the cameras that having 10 bridesmaids and 10 groomsmen is a "circus".

Now, just because I ask myself what he would do, that is not to say I let that dictate what I will.

Okay, with that said. I totally have 10 amazing, beautiful, charming, hilarious bridesmaids (inclusive of two lovely Maids of Honor). Coming to this decision was fun and by no means was it without thought! Prior to getting engaged, the only wedding-related detail I ever really considered was my bridesmaids and who they would be.

And I always envisioned a small bridal party, like this (minus the kinda graphic leg-grabbage):

Image via Sarah Green Photography

However, when it came down to it, I knew that what I envisioned was impossible. Why? Well, I have no "blood sisters" but I have a lot of very, very close lady-loves. These are girls, most of whom I've known since childhood, that have seen me at my worst, partied with me at my best and have put me in my place and loved me all the same—and who better to stand by me on the happiest day of my life than those women? 

Making the decision easier was the fact that Mr. Seal has lots of brothers and close cousins and also wanted to include my two brothers and two cousin-brothers (not "cousin-brothers" in a backwoods southern way—they are cousins raised like my brothers). He, therefore, matched my 10 girls with ease.

So instead, our wedding party will look something like this:

Image via Brocade Nashville/Photo by Phindy Studios

While some people gasp or scoff when they hear our number of attendants, I smile. I smile because we are lucky to have such a large and amazing group of people to take part in our big day. I believe there are exceptions to every "wedding rule" and that some of the time, those exceptions make for the most exceptional and memorable weddings.

Do you have a large wedding party? Do people give you a tough time or roll their eyes because of it?

<3,

Seal

Setting the Date and Quelling the Beast-Bride: A 2-Year Long Engagement

I wasn't that little girl who planned her wedding when she was eight. In fact, up until I met Mr. Seal, I was pretty convinced that I would end up an old spinster with 18 mange-ridden cats. So, that being said, even though I was (and still am) desperately excited to marry Mr. S and anxiously awaited the engagement, I was a tiny bit frightened that I didn't possess the "bride gene".

I did, however, manage to come across this picture of little me dressed as a bride—perhaps early evidence of bridal DNA?:

Once I hit 23, it seemed like more and more people I knew were getting engaged. One of my best friends (and bridesmaids) was proposed to by her long-time boyfriend, and I think that's when I warmed up to the idea that I probably would marry after all. Then I met the Sealman and it very quickly hit me that I could see myself marrying him.

I'm going to be honest in saying that the bridal porn came before the engagement. Full of shame, hiding my bare left ring finger, I snuck into bookstores and bought bridal magazine after bridal magazine. I secretly pored over them while Mr. Seal was at work and tucked them safely under the bed before he returned. And this was only the beginning.

After the engagement, we lived up on Cloud 9 for a bit. Boy was it fun up there—so in love and oblivious to all that lay ahead! As mentioned in a previous post, we were engaged in mid December, and with Christmas, New Year's Eve and a trip to Disneyland to soon follow, we weren't immediately concerned with "figuring things out". Per previous discussions, we knew that we wanted a longish engagement, and didn't feel a pressing urgency to "set the date"—plus that love cloud was pretty comfy.

Post-Engagement, Pre-Planning Love Cloud/Disneyland Break. Can you spot the Seals?:

Upon returning, I climbed back down from the love cloud and realized that, not only did I have the bride gene, I had "bride" full on pumping through my veins.

The first thing we decided was when we wanted to get married. We tossed around December of 2011 but eventually settled on a quirky date. Mr. S and I are a bit funny and competitive when it comes to time—by that I mean we call each other when it's 12:34, or 11:11 and whoever makes notice of it first is deemed the "winner" by the other and is subject to taunting. So, once we realized 11/11/11 fell on a Friday we decided to roll with it (for the record: I realized 11/11/11 was a plausible wedding date before he did...score one for me).

January of 2010 was an incredibly exciting time. I went with my Auntie Mary Ann to my first bridal fair and with Mama Seal and Maid of Honor Meghan to the second. I'll admit I got a bit obsessed with the notice a bride gets at these things—dozens of people vying for your attention and handing you champagne, telling you that your ring is THE most beautiful one they've seen today.

On my way to/at my very first wedding fair at the Ritz Carlton in San Francisco:

After the second fair, I got anxious. I got tired of telling people "We're getting married November of NEXT year", and commonly getting the response, "Wow, well you've got PLENTY of time!" For some reason I suddenly didn't want plenty of time—I wanted 2010. It was as if I awakened a sleeping beast-bride version of myself—one who had been suppressed for far too long. I wanted to plan the wedding and marry Mr. Seal in 10 months and that was that. I was a fiend and a wedding was the only foreseeable fix!

Image via Wedding Planet Advice

Thankfully, my wonderful Mama and heroic Sealman pulled the bridal fair needle from my veins, slapped some water on my face and showed me the light. We were in no rush—and allotting ourselves that extra year of preparation would not only help lower stress levels, but it would extend my time as a bride. With the wedding addiction safely at bay we decided to stick with our original 11/11/11 date.

I feel safe in stating that settling on a 2-year engagement was the second best wedding-related decision we've made (second to getting married, of course). Year one has flown by in record time, and I am thoroughly enjoying every day. Sure stress occasionally rears its ugly head, but I couldn't imagine what a neurotic mess I would have been if we listened to that crazy beast-bride!

Did you opt for a long engagement and later question this decision? Did going to bridal fairs facilitate your wedding addiction?

Hugs and Kisses,

Miss Seal

(all personal photos unless stated otherwise)

A Most Expensive Glass of Champagne: The Engagement That Was

Big sigh.

Sadly. No. Devastatingly, I have zero pictures of the night of our engagement. I'm going to make a blanket assumption that everyone was caught up in the excitement of the evening and couldn't be bothered with silly gadgets like cameras and camera phones. Try to bear with me and imagine an incredibly beautiful and emotional night.

After Daddio Seal's Las Vegas slip-up, I was on my best behavior to not spoil the actual engagement. So I played dumb when Mr. Seal needed to unexpectedly hurry off to "see a friend" or step outside to make a phone call. Eventually, I managed to tune out of my ability to ruin surprises and I successfully stopped focusing on "getting engaged".

Anyhoo. Hive, I am absolutely crazy when it comes to the Holidays. I love Christmas trees and I love giving gifts—I write and revise dozens of gift-giving lists and tirelessly research for the absolute best deals. (I also try to work peppermint mochas into my daily December diet).

Our 2009 Christmas tree:

On December 12, 2009 I woke up with a very particular holiday agenda. I would go to the mall to finish up some Christmas shopping, wrap some presents at Mama Seal's, and then head to my cousin's Christmas party. No surprises.

So, in the hours leading up to the party while I was hastily wrapping presents, I paid little attention to my appearance. I, regrettably, thought nothing of it when Mr. Seal called from home to ask me, "Are you going to come back to get ready?", to which I responded,"Naaah, I'm just going to go like this". "Like this" was definitely not my best, but what did it matter? If my established surprise-spoiling superpower was right, Mr. Seal wasn't going to propose to me until Christmas Eve. (I wanted to look fancy on engagement night, after all).

When we arrived at my cousin's home, I got absolutely no vibes that would lead me to believe this was anything more than a typical holiday party (kudos to you, family). I don't know why it never occurred to me, given it was Daddy Seal's last evening in town before heading back to his second home in Copenhagen, that an engagement was entirely plausible.

Anyway...eventually, someone called for a toast, and this was not at all out of the ordinary. Mr. Seal worked with one of my aunties to distribute glasses of champagne. The Sealman is very proactive when it comes to helping out so this still raised no red flags for me. Actually, I even started to feel forgotten! I really love champagne, so I secretly got upset when I saw the bottles disappearing and still had no glass of my own. It wasn't until a circle began to form around me that I realized what was happening.

Mr. S, equipped with a particularly sparkly glass of champagne, stepped into the middle and faced me. He got down one one knee (typical guy move, heh), and my heart stopped. The tears began to streak down my face and I have no idea what he said (though everyone says it was very sweet). I do, however, remember repeating, "Of course! Of course!"

I then sipped guzzled my glass of champagne to find the most amazing ring settled at the bottom. What a sweet deal—not only do I get amazing bling to wear forever, but I get this awesome guy for eternity too!? Heck yeah, count me in.

Pictures taken the day after our engagement:

I later asked Mr. Seal why he chose my cousin's holiday party to propose. He said it was because he knew I was expecting Christmas Eve and, in addition to wanting to finally surprise me, he also wanted Daddio Seal to be around for the engagement of his only daughter. Oh how I love that man.

Did you sense your proposal on the actual day of? Was your proposal intimate or was your whole family involved?

Love,

Miss Seal

The Engagement That Was Not: A Las Vegas Story

Let me preface this post by stating that I always ruin my own surprises. I assure you I am not exaggerating. A couple of years ago, I spoiled every one of my Christmas presents from Mr. Seal and it wasn't because I physically saw them—I'm just impatient and...figured them out. I am suspicious by nature, and have an innate sense of when someone is trying to surprise me or lie to me in an effort to throw me off track. I'm pretty sure if I were a superhero my superpower would be exposing secrets! Okaaay, that would be a pretty lame superpower, but that's the unfortunate talent I was born to bear.

In the following situation I promise I was trying my best to remain ignorant, but it wasn't made very easy...

The month was November of 2009. The place? Las Vegas. Mr S. and I, along with just about every other member of my family, were on vacation. He and I spent the first couple nights of the trip getting romantic—we wined and dined at fancy restaurants and attended the Wynn's Cirque du soleil-esque show Le Reve.

Mr. Seal on our walk to the Wynn:

We reconvened with the family on the third night. Daddy Seal, a musician, was playing at the Hard Rock Hotel and Mr. Seal suggested we spend some time with him before catching his show. While we were backstage, I excused myself to use the restroom returning to hear that my father and Mr. Seal would be back soon—this was obviously suspect, but I pretended to not notice.

When they returned, Daddy Seal turned to me, put his hand on my shoulder and announced (no lie!), "[Mr. Seal] has just asked for permission to ask you for your hand in marriage."

Silence.

I, absolutely shocked by this brazen disregard for secrecy, glanced at an equally bewildered Sealman and responded to my father with, "Uhhhhh...am I supposed to know that?"

Realizing that he had perhaps said too much, he said, "Oh. I don't know?"

The thing was, I did actually know that a proposal was coming. Mr. Seal and I had casually talked about marriage and I could tell things were getting extra serious—my spideysenses told me he was ready to "seal" the deal. And now, thanks to dad's silly slip-up, I could be outwardly excited. Right?! Well, maybe not.

After the concert, we decided to hit the casino with the family and have a few drinks. Mr. Seal was knocking them back more quickly than usual and I started to get a bit anxious. Given the evening's events, however, I knew I needed to cut him some slack...so I did.

It was on this night that Mr. Seal's intoxicated alter-ego "Bernie" was born. John-Michael, my little cousin/groomsman (in white and gray stripes below) and our friend Chris (also below), call Mr. S by the name Bernie because of basic arithmetic:

Personal photos/"Weekend at Bernie's" image source

So, while Bernie was stumbling around the casino floor, kissing people on the neck and declaring his love for everyone, I was awkwardly receiving comments like, "Congratulations! You're gonna get engaged!" Say what? That just sounds weird. Not expecting the emotions I experienced upon hearing these comments, I couldn't help but want to paraphrase Beyonce and say, "WHERE'S MY RING!?"

Don't get me wrong, I was THRILLED, but how do you celebrate something that, 1) hasn't happened yet and, 2) you're not technically supposed to know about?! I thought I would be relieved to not have to play dumb anymore...but I was wrong, and thus confused!

Here's Bernie, before he started dragging his legs around and involuntarily closing his eyes (he was clearly still on top of the world at this point):

Eventually, I was gifted the task of getting my nearly comatose (and nearly affianced) boyfriend back to our hotel. This involved a less than sober Miss Seal, a 10 minute cab ride, a long walk through our hotel's lobby and casino floor, and an elevator. The cabbie even asked us if we needed to have a wheelchair waiting at our hotel but thanks to a swift elbow jab in Mr. Seal's direction, this proved unnecessary.

The next morning, after my brain fully registered the previous evening's happenings (and my stomach digested the $100 worth of room service), I woke up excited—excited, yet fully aware that I was not engaged...yet. Now, all I had to do was wait and hope that I could keep my investigatory thoughts at bay. There was no way I was going to let my curse superpower destroy a girl's ultimate surprise!

Did you know your fiancé was going to ask you before he asked or was it a total surprise? Do you have a superpower too!?

Up Next: The ACTUAL Engagement

Kisses and Cuddles,

Miss Seal

(all personal photos unless otherwise stated)

The Eastern Influence: A Love Tale

So how did Mr. Seal and I meet? It's not an overwhelmingly amazing story, but it's our story nonetheless.

It all started in the Big Apple. Well, kind of. Mr. Seal and I didn't actually meet IN New York, but you'll see what I mean.

In April of 2008, I took a week-long vacation with Mama Seal to New York. We did lots of bargain shopping (Century 21? Yes please!) and ate lots and lots and lots of pizza. Prior to leaving California, I was in a noncommittal dating situation with a guy who had just moved from Manhattan—we'll refer to him as NY#2. This is really only important to take notice of my accidental affinity for all things New York.

Yours truly on the plane ride back home—completely unaware that only a few hours later I'd be meeting the New York born-and-raised man that I would marry!:

Back in California I, reluctantly, but fabulously decked out in my new (york) accessories, returned to my job as a Sales Executive for a major cable corporation (*I've since changed professions, but I'll save that boring story for later). Anyhow, I was told by my supervisor that if I needed any help while he was on lunch that we could ask the brand new lead who'd just transferred from our call center up north in Sacramento. This was great because I did, in fact, require assistance.

A mean lady was screaming at me over the phone because she wanted a deal on her cable that I had never heard of before. Much to the dismay of the already irate woman, the company I worked for at the time wasn't so keen on us setting up non-existent deals and I had no choice but to find the new lead to appease her.

And there was my Seal—my knight with a shiny headset to rescue me from the evil witch. I remember thinking he was cute, but it was once I heard that Brooklyn accent that I knew we were destined to be!

Alright, so maybe it wasn't that fast—truthfully, the Seals got off to a pretty slow start. Firstly because Mama Seal always said you're not supposed to date people at work—so I thought about that for a couple of minutes and then decided flirting was okay. Secondly, I poisoned myself with questioning doubt—was he into ME? Mr. Seal got a reputation for being a smooth operator and despite my equally flirtatious ways, I was kind of intimidated!

Oooh, and I forgot about NY#2. Like really. I forgot about him. So that settled that.

Anyway, it took Mr. Seal about two months of my eye-batting and playful banter to finally ask for my number. Channeling my inner Miss Gazelle, I had just run nearly eight miles at Bay-To-Breakers in San Francisco and came to work feeling unstoppable. Hoping to incite a bit of friendly competition, I told Mr. S that I could text faster than him. Taking the bait, he stopped to say, "Well how are we supposed to test this if I don't have your number?" Silly Seals! I must say, it's really quite fitting that our love story would begin with a competition.

We messaged for a few hours after work and I remember legitimately saying to myself that it was the best day of my life. Before you call me a super-creeper, please recall that I had managed to successfully run my first 12K earlier that day so I was also still high from that. It took us a few more months of texting, but we officially gave things a shot in September of 2008. And I have to note that I knew fairly early into the relationship that I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him.

A picture I took of the Sealman at work a few days after our texting competition (that gold chain around his neck has since been traded in for the diamond ring I wear on my left hand):

  

As a side note, while Mr. Seal and I were half-heartedly dating before becoming what I like to call "Facebook official" (because let's face it, a relationship is FAKE unless you're FB official), I read He's Just Not That Into You...which I can now say completely led me down the wrong path! That guy totally loves me.

And that, ladies and gents, is our little tale of L-O-V-E.

What about you guys? For me there was a sudden eastern influx that pointed me in Mr. Seal's direction—were there any "signs" for you?

XO,

Miss Seal 

(all personal photos)