We're Going To The Chapel & We're Going To Get In The New York Tiiiimes

It's 4:39 a.m., and I'm about to pass out for the last time as a single man. Hallelujah.

Also, we got an amazingly long listing in the New York Times this morning, including a video where they do, as I expected, rock the "Sex & The City" music.

Not only am I described as evoking a "young Woody Allen," which is a fascinating description for someone on the verge of marriage, but the engagedguy.blogspot.com gets a holla in the video portion.

What an amazing run. I gotta go marry a girl. We'll see you on the other side.


Our Life In Lights

So my little quest to get into the New York Times wedding section has taken a turn toward even more notoriety than even I may be comfortable with.

First off, we're apparently in. A reporter interviewed each of us over the phone last week for about a half-hour apiece. One amusing anecdote: Deborah told the reporter that we started dating in 2002. When the reporter asked me the same question, I said 2005. Then he made it seem like I was the absent-minded fiancee. "You failed the newlywed game," he said. Truth is, in 2002 Deborah was in college, under the drinking age and dating guys who didn't bathe. At least that's how I think of it.

Secondly, after our initial interviews we got a call back from The Times' secret wedding section hotline. (The number came in on my cell like this: 111-111-1111. For real.) They asked if we'd be their featured online video for the week, to which I responded with an understated "absofuckinglutely!"

So a videographer came down from New York and spent about 2 1/2 hours filming us, separately, on our roof. This will all be edited down to 5 minutes of what I hope doesn't look too much like an eHarmony commercial. Expect cheese when this thing posts on nytimes.com Sunday morning, but also expect that cheese to be very sweet.

Also expect some Carrie Bradshaw references, and perhaps Sex & The City music. They did, after all, film me typing on my laptop.

Above, look at my celebrity wife!


I Married A "Homemaker," and All I Got Was This Lousy Wedding Certificate

We awoke at the crack of dawn today and hauled ass to Room 413 of City Hall for one of the most important to-do items left on our list: Get a marriage certificate.

Weirdly, there's a three-day waiting period from when you buy ($80!) your certificate until when it actually takes effect. That's just two days less than the five-day gun-buying waiting period. Is getting married just two-fifth less dangerous than shooting a gun? Ponder that one.

Also on the weird front, the woman who issued our license was an intern. We know this, of course, because Deborah asked if they were hiring. Who interns at the wedding license place?

But here's the big-whopper weird thing: Deborah is listed as "homemaker" on the certificate. Poor thing has been working her ass off since the age of 13, gets unceremoniously dumped by The Man two weeks ago and all of a sudden everything's in black-and-white and it's 1955 up in here.

What if I was laid off? It definitely would not have said "homemaker." Would they have even given me a license at all, considering my failure to provide?


Booze? Check.

With the help of my anonymous friend pictured here, I ventured across state lines (shhhhhhh....) and bought enough booze to keep our wedding going for four days. With this much liquor, it's hard to believe we still need food.

Some highlights:

  • Ronrigo Rum! Don't be fooled by the plastic bottle. This is the hottest thing in the Caribbean these days.
  • Six bottles of vermouth! I'm not sure why.
  • Huge bottles of Svedka Vodka (my dad's pick) for just $20 each!
  • Two kinds of champagne!
  • A mind-boggling 44 bottles of wine!
  • Three surprise brands of beer!
Distant cousins Kahlua, Pucker, Amaretto, Triple Sec and Peach Schnapps will be well represented. Hopefully this will make some people, who declared themselves sober for the weekend, will rethink that thought.

The best part: We can return all the booze we don't drink! Although I can't imagine that happening.

Now the worst part: My anonymous friend was kind enough to store all the booze at his apartment, but I stopped by his place a few hours after I dropped off the stuff, and he looked like this:


When Homeslice Gets Laid Off, She Lays Out

No, we're not canceling the wedding, as some have suggested. No catastrophe could possibly stop this thing at this point.

And apparently life actually goes on. Hearing the stories about unemployment in comments and emails -- and more specifically the stories about getting laid off right before weddings -- indicates that this will probably not kill us.

Melissa was threatened with a lay-off three days before her wedding and then canned the day before her birthday. Guess what? Still alive. Marilyn lost her job the month before her wedding, and her husband lost his job the month after. Guess what? That was 1971, and she said it was "the best thing that ever happened"!

That's the thinking around these parts, too. To wit, this what the bride has been up to:

1) She went to the beach. Laid out. Had two beers, which intoxicated her. Standard. Posed for picture, above.

2) Started a blog about being unemployed with her friend Allison (above), another victim of the butcher on Sansom Street. It's the hottest thing in the blogiverse right now. Check it! Greetingsfromunemployment.blogspot.com

3) Completed a range of wedding-related tasks, including painting a ketubah! It's like arts-and-craft day at camp around here these days.

4) Organized job offers into alphabetical order.

It doesn't mean it doesn't suck, which it does. But this kind of thing happens on the regular in America in 2008. "Layoff" is the new "black." So we deal. And blog about it or something.


Something Has Gone Terribly Wrong; Guess What It Is

Let's everyone play a game. With 23 days left 'til Showtime, one of these dreadful scenarios actually, really just happened. The other two are bullshit. See if you can figure it out:

Scenario #1: At the last wedding dress fitting, the tailor at the Macy's Bridal Shop spilled her vente caramel-mocha frappucino on the front of the wedding gown, forming a bizarre splotch-like figure that could not be removed, despite its subsequent shipment to Hong. Three weeks left, and we have no dress, people.

Scenario #2: There was a fire at the apartment complex behind our wedding venue that triggered an explosion in a kitchen, which then spread, leveling an entire half-city block and leaving our venue in rubble.

Scenario #3: Out of absolutely nowhere, the bride got laid off.

The Answer: Number Three.

Deborah's agency lost their largest client because the company discontinued the brand. Deborah worked on said client, so she -- along with about 15 others -- were let go at 4 pm on a Friday. It was a fucking blood bath, and she's going to be better of for it. I'm positive. We just don't know when that better-off is gonna be, exactly.

Oh, and they apologized for the timing of her dismissal, considering, well, our wedding. The bossman also told her it was the Democrats' fault, whatever that means.

So, if someone is in the market for the best graphic designer/art director in the greater Philadelphia area, we're accepting offers. Give my startlingly talented future wife a job. Or even a freelance gig. Or she'll walk your dog every afternoon for $5 a pop.

Better yet, check out her new business.

Also, if anyone understands unemployment benefits in Pennsylvania, we could use a tutorial. I don't think their web site is written in English.


Look Who's Already Dressed For The Wedding!

Unfortunately, he won't be in attendance. But since we actually bought Shmelvis a cat bow tie for the wedding, he'll be wearing it instead of a collar for the next 3 1/2 weeks.

And he'll be more formally dressed than either of us.

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