First post-engagement decision: to not get married in the city in which we live. For one, I’m not particularly attached to Santa Barbara; I didn’t grow up here and neither did the boy. Which leads us into an unsurprising point two—neither of our families live here (where they do live is another matter all together; let’s just say that several states and time zones are involved).
Third, our friend base has dwindled substantially in the past few years, as the boy’s old group from college has slowly but surely fled south to L.A. and north to the Bay Area in seek of larger job pools. We have just a handful of pals left in the area.
The last consideration—arguably the most important of all—is price. Now, I’ve developed a well-worn cynicism towards the inherent living expenses associated with residing in a beachside vacation mecca. Don’t talk to me about rent or even, god forbid, the price of a freakin’ jack and coke at the bars downtown. Yet I was woefully unprepared for the realities of getting hitched here until a friend’s fiancée clued me in. “Don’t bother looking,” she said flatly. “This town is insanely expensive for weddings.”
O-kay. So between a prohibitive price tag and our general lack of roots, it’s easy to put the ixnay on the Santa Bizzle. Great. Fantastic. Glad to get that sorted out. Ok, so, if not here… then where?
We know it has to be California. A sizeable chunk of the people we’re inviting live in this state, and we want to make it easier for them to come. But California is a pretty big state. And while we can probably automatically rule out, say, everything north of Redding and the inner valley, that still pretty much leaves us with a wide swath of options running from San Francisco to San Diego. Oh, maybe Santa Rosa/Napa could be nice. And wait, wouldn’t Lake Tahoe be kinda cool?
Choice is equally as paralyzing in the wedding world as it is the grocery store. That’s what the industry thrives on, after all—your inability to choose from just one of eight hundred million dresses, color palettes, invitation designs, floral arrangements, *insert retching noise here*. So you just consume more. And I’m not even there yet. Determining the details is not even a headspace I am remotely near inhabiting. All I want is a freaking venue. You can tell by the stringency of my italics.
How to pick just one place to get married when you can choose from a seemingly endless array? I’m not entirely sure. I do know we need to just focus. Tune out what’s not important. Leave things to chance. A jack & coke won’t hurt, either.
* I got two turntables and a microphone **
** No, I don’t. But if I did, I suppose I’d have the whole DJ issue resolved.
