Each new day is another attempt to baby-step into the deepening quagmire that is Planning My Wedding. Poor word choice? (Quagmire, not wedding.)
I have a newfound admiration for women who are diligent about planning their weddings!
Early-ish into the engagement, Deepak’s kind coworker asked me if I had “a binder” yet. Do who?
I haven’t grubbied up a 3-ring folder since the days of filing my spelling words away in a Trapper Keeper. Actually, no — one of the annual projects at my latest job was to compile a 3-ring binder assessing the provenance, pedigree and pickup chances for every scripted cable and network pilot in contention for series pickup. The result, called TrackVision, was a very sharp-looking and purportedly useful compendium that we hawked to network executives and analysts every May during broadcast Upfronts week. I carefully read scripts, watched screeners and then wrote many of the analyses myself.
Every year, I was very proud of the final product. I was confident that it would help advertisers strategize where to invest ad dollars, studios where to direct their development resources, etc. But one year when I witnessed a coworker of mine — a person who didn’t even write analyses and instead dedicated himself to laying out the final product — flippantly whacking up my precious write-ups in order to make them fit a text box.
How dare this Johnny-come-lately take it upon himself to edit down my lovingly crafted précis!
“I’m cutting the analyses to fit,” he explained. “I just cut the paragraph beginning, ‘Most importantly …'”
Ugh. Thus soured my relationship with binders.
Anyway, after I informed Deepak’s coworker about my troubled relationship with binders (I spared her the full retelling of this tale), she thoughtfully presented me with The Wedding Planner & Organizer. And its companion, The Wedding Book: The Big Book for Your Big Day, for good measure.
This is my benediction of the binder.