Part 8: Preparations

I really don't think Jon could have planned things any better. Instead of the typical groom's attempts to weasel out of wedding preparation, he had a catch-all excuse--he was hundreds of miles away (and didn't care about details anyway).

So I did it all, which really didn't bother me. I found my dress with the help of Kenna and Val, I got it altered with Val's recommendation, and I owe the Carnahan grandparents so incredibly much for driving me to and from Salt Lake in order to make the arrangements. They also had the connections that got our reception in this adorable house in Salt Lake called Anderson Commons. This was my one insistence--I absolutely refused to have our reception in a church gym, regardless of how cheap it would be.

Jon and my mom were both concerned when I told them our colors were going to be black, cream, and green. Specifically, they thought the idea of a bouquet of black roses was a little goth. I thought it was pretty fabulous, but I compromised and threw in some cream roses, too (and looking back I wish I had stuck with the black--it would have looked so cool!).

The cream color is what threw Mom Blood. The very first time I talked with her (over the phone--she was in West Virginia), a good portion of the conversation was spent debating whether her dress, which was "a masking-tape color", would match the flowers. As luck would have it, she ended up matching perfectly.

Jon & I managed to see each other once a month after our engagement. In September he flew to Tucson so Dad could take our engagement pictures (and so Jon could be an unwitting participant in my bridal shower). In October he flew to Provo for a few days to distract me from my schoolwork. In November he came with me to the Carnahans for Thanksgiving, and then I didn't see him again until two days before the wedding.

The situation being what it was, the majority of our communication at this point was over the phone. Yes, I was that lame engaged roommate who just hangs out in her room, talking to her fiance. Actually, I wasn't too bad--since Jon's free minutes didn't start until 9pm his time (7pm my time), and since Jon was usually falling asleep by 9:45pm, our conversations weren't too long. They did, however, lead to some hilarious results. The following are actual exerts from our conversations, as Jon was falling asleep:

Jon: “Why didn’t you become a vocal performance major instead of an English major?
Then you wouldn’t have to destroy your bass.”
Megan: “What are you talking about?”
Jon: “You know what they say—leave redheads alone.”

Jon: “I feel bad. All these people doing things for me while I’m sleeping.”
Megan: “Who’s doing things for you while you’re sleeping?”
Jon: “The hospital.”
Megan: “And what does the hospital do for you while you’re sleeping?”
Jon: “Takes care of my bushy eyebrows.”

Jon: “I wish I had a trumpet.”
Megan: “You wish you had a trumpet?”
Jon: “No. Maybe it was an oboe.”
Megan: “An oboe?”
Jon: “You know, like ‘I scraped my oboe (elbow)’?”

Jon: “I can’t remember which one’s positive?”
Megan: “Positive?”
Jon: “Cause there has to be a positive and a negative. Otherwise where does it go? And I
know that I’m not positive.”

Jon: “Well maybe YOU could find the square root of eleven!”

Jon: “Oh yeah, I’m sure you’re going to prove us aaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll wrong when you take this challenge test.”

Jon: “That’s what you get.”
Meg: “For what?”
Jon: “I don’t know. Shaving your legs?”

Hilarious as these conversations were, I usually ended up being quite frustrated. Here I was, trying to have a serious conversation with my fiance, who I only get to talk to for an hour every day, and he's falling asleep! I suppose the benefit was that by 8pm, I was home, in my room, and with nothing better to do than homework.

At first, I spent a lot of time pitying myself--I was the only girl I knew who's fiance wasn't living within 30 minutes. Most of the time I felt like a bit of a loner--I missed having someone to sit with at church, to come over to dinner, or just hang out and chat. Luckily my roommates kept me fairly entertained. Warnick, specifically. Not only did she help me pass the time by constantly letting me watch her artsy films or teaching me how to cook, she also designed our invites, got them printed, found black envelopes for them, and then helped me address them. Warnick, I will love you forever.

My other support came from my co-worker, Christine. She got engaged just days before I did (and called me to gloat) and then married a month before me. She helped me get everything figured out--she was my Dear Abbie when it came to weddings, bridal showers, and honeymoons. I would have been pretty hopeless without her.

Looking back, I've decided that long-distance engagement is the way to go. You miss out on a lot, but it was definitely a good experience. We got to know each other in a different light, since we were forced to communicate through phone and email. Since our time on the phone was limited, not only did my schoolwork NOT suffer, I think it actually improved. We never had to worry about spending too much time alone together, because we never did. But I still missed him like crazy. And I was irked that he was spending Christmas with his family instead of with me--selfish, I know.

FINAL INSTALLMENT