A couple of weeks ago, while the beau and I were in Michigan visiting my family, my mom presented me with a tome titled “The Bride’s Year Ahead: The Ultimate Month-by-Month Wedding Planner.” Note that the bride is the only one who dedicates a year of her life to planning her wedding; ostensibly, the groom spends his last year of bachelorhood “catching games with the guys” and “acting out his fraternal impulses at the strip club.”

Now, I know my mother got this for me only because she thought it might be helpful, and for that I am grateful. Especially because it turned out to be just a sheer delight to peruse.

On the off chance that you are not completely dazzled straight out of the gate by the cover photo—which features an ivory-gloved bride clutching a bouquet of peach roses tied with a giant bow—the book really kicks your excitement level into high gear with the first sentence: “The moment you’ve dreamed of has finally come.” Yes, finally! This event is the ultimate culmination of my dreamingest dream! Please tell me more!

And how. Not only does this planner break out each step of the planning process into monthly tasks, it offers checklists, tips, and questions for vendors. For example, I’d had no idea that I should ask my reception hall/caterer, “Can I have a Viennese dessert table if I am willing to pay extra?” Imagine if I’d missed the opportunity to have a Viennese dessert table! I probably would have had to lock myself away in the bedroom and cry hysterically for two days straight.

Other quality insights include:

  • “Unfortunately, many couples today simply do not know how to ballroom dance. To make a beautiful impression on the dance floor, now is the time to sign up for some lessons.”
  • “If you’re a typical bride, you probably have already been out looking for the dress of your dreams—in fact, you’ve probably been designing it off and on for decades!”
  • “To keep your bridal makeup natural and refined, opt for makeup in shades of apricot and peach.” (this is clearly applicable for brides of all skin tones)
  • “During the traditional American wedding, incidental music is played as guests arrive. The walk down the aisle is almost always accompanied by ceremonial music paced to dramatize the importance of the wedding procession.”

But my absolute favorite is the first item on the to-do list for ten months ahead: “Assess your looks.” To this end, the very next page helpfully supplies a “Personal Improvement Worksheet” in which you may thoroughly evaluate your satisfaction level, goals, and methods with regards to no less than all of the following: Skin, hair (color, texture), weight, shape, nails, teeth, feel, diet, sleep habits, exercise, attitude, grooming, hairstyle, and makeup.

Okay, okay. Sarcasm aside (and believe, I have boatloads), I am starting to see how this type of wedding munge should come with a medical advisory: Warning, may cause anxiety. Because in the attempt to be comprehensive, these planners spotlight all sorts of stuff that you never would have thought of on your own and perhaps don’t even want. Yet now it’s there, camping out in the back of your brain, nagging and wheedling and whining until all of a sudden you’re convinced that everyone is going to look at you askance if you forget to whiten your teeth or, say, neglect to prepare molded chocolate sculptures as favors for each guest. From there, it’s just a short walk into the deep end of worry about whether you’re Doing the Right Things. On etiquette, the author of The Bride’s Year Ahead reflects: “Is it proper? I suppose it depends on the circles you travel in, how individualistic and modern you are, and the nuances of what passes for acceptable behavior in your own select circle of friends.”

Whew, what a mind-bender. Now I’ll probably be up half the night worrying about what my friends think is acceptable behavior. Fortunately for me, in month ten I am also tasked with “practicing the art of managing stress,” although this book seems to have overlooked the inclusion of any real information about how I can go about accomplishing this.

Awesome. Maybe I’ll start with burying it in the back of the closet.