Unmarried Housewife

The Non-Hubs has a little sister. She is getting married in just under two weeks at the family farm in Northeastern PA, an affair that started off small and informal and looks like it will be neither small nor exactly informal. It’s going to be lovely. We’ve been working very hard at ensuring that.

When The Non-Hubs told his family of our recent engagement, his mother told him not to “steal (her) thunder”, referring to said little sister.

No worries about that, I soon realized, largely because I have no idea what I want to do about a Wedding, the actual event. The question makes my stomach tumble. I was not the little girl who dreamed of being a princess. When I was an arty, self-involved performance major in college, I thought briefly about getting married in the most sacred of spaces (a theater), but now I can call that version of myself “arty” and “self-involved”, so… not that.

And it may come as no surprise, but Non-Hubs doesn’t have his heart set on a single thing either.

Over the course of our (in two days) Seven Year Relationship, we have spent a great deal of time in Italy, as Non-Hubs has family there, and many of our nearest and dearest have been very vocal about their desire for our nuptials to happen there. We’ve talked briefly on it but then shut the conversation down when the topics of “but where will everybody sleep?!” and “what if some of our friends can’t afford a trip there?!” come up.

We have talked briefly about doing it in Brooklyn where we live. It may squash the Under the Tuscan Sun dreams of some friends, but walking to your wedding sounds so easy breezy, doesn’t it?

Today, I casually looked up a possible venue; a building we used to walk by every day on the way to our gym. It’s a big, old, interesting, practically blank slate kind of place. And it’s booked every Saturday from now until next October, save for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

So the question now is: can you have a wedding on a Tuesday afternoon?