omigod

So, I've been hesitating to blog about this since a few aspects were uncertain, but the conversation B and I had with his mom tonight was too good to pass up.

Some background:

B bought me a (very) modest engagement ring last summer, and August 31st last year we signed our Pacs so that I could get my papers to live and work in France. After 4 years together and 2 living together, we've decided to get married this fall, with a civil marriage in France and something or other in the States when we go for Thanksgiving.

Side note: Any congratulations will be much more merited when I get my drivers license. So far I feel like being congratulated on picking a date is like getting congratulated for brushing my teeth: over done for the effort and difficulty involved. I read a book by a woman who wondered why couples are rewarded for getting married with tons of gifts, whereas something much more difficult, say getting your PhD, is not rewarded with showers and receptions.

I'm not into the huge white weddings (as I've stated before) and you can see the links on my blog for some analyse of how they came to be and how they're so wasteful and full of consumerism (B calls them weddings with "des anges tout nus"). I already bought a cocktail dress from 1-2-3 and I'm going to encourage B to go with the slacks and sport coat look. We want to look classy, but in clothes we can actually wear again. Civil ceremony and a dinner with the 35 or so people who'll attend. I have no desire what so-ever to pore over floral arrangements or interview DJ's or even taste wedding cakes samples. Simple, small, easy. It's not like getting married will make our lives different from being pacsé.

And then there were the dragées.

B's mom called us to talk about the arrangements, since we're going to get married in the small town where B's parents live.

"So I went by that restaurant where we ate last summer, but it's no good because there's no dance floor, so we'll have to have the reception at the salle de fêtes. You young people will surely want space to dance."
"No mom, we'll maybe put some music on for ambiance, but we're not really planning on having a disco."
"Well, the young people will probably continue until 1 or 2 in the morning."
"What! No mom, L and don't think we'll party that long, we were thinking something a little simpler, calmer...."

I start to worry about what exactly she wants to plan for us.

Barreling right along, she continues, "There's a package you can buy with decorations, table linens, and dragées (or almond favors)—"
"Mom, mom, mom, we don't want dragées! Come on!" B says while I mime cutting my throat with my finger.
"Oh, they're nothing. You always have them at a wedding. We'll buy them in bulk and then put them in litte sachets for the guests. And then we can get some balloons for the reception."

If I dread something about weddings, it's the downward spiral towards agreeing to do or have things you never wanted or needed in the first place. And I will not agree to spend a weekend counting little almonds into mesh bags.

"No mom, we said we wanted something simple. We don't want any dragées. And balloons are for birthdays."
"Well if you want a funeral instead of a wedding..... I don't see why......"

The rest of the conversation was B's mom mentioning things she'd looked into, and me racing from the other room to mime to B that in no way should we accept those things.

B and I have decided that "Well if you want a funeral instead of a wedding..." is our new favorite classic line. I think that it accurately sums up the differences between our simple desires, and B's mom's grand ideas.

Pardon me while I go chuckle about that one.