venue woes.

by Liz on 06.02

 (by Alexander Binder, via me melodia)

One of our dear ones is having venue issues. Which reminded me of my own… a long, long time ago (cough, about a year ago).

(lately, I feel like my wedding posts have been grandma-style… “when I was your age…”)

Part of it was our frickin short engagement (which I still don’t regret) and part of it was, yeah. I was being a leetle picky. I wanted to spend less than 5grand on the venue, to be able to choose my own caterer, and be able to fit 150+ people. Kind of impossible in Philly, we found.

We eventually picked the “perfect” venue. In the city (which is meaningful to us) only 3grand, including tables and chairs, and choose your own caterer. And can I say GORGEOUS. Buuut the number of people was going to be a squeeze, as 150 was his limit (if they all stood, and we didn’t set out chairs to get in the way). And, uh, we had invited 165.

I had heard that expecting a lot of people not to come is alright, and sorta standard practice. But it didn’t sit well with me that there was even a small possibility of not having enough room.

So, 3 months before the wedding, we painfully nixed it and started from scratch- knowing we had already scoured the Philadelphian world.

 (more…)

Out of the blue, a friend mentioned a nearby church that had a quaint reception hall. We scrunched our noses at the idea of a church hall (god, some of them are ugly) but checked it out, just out of desperation.

Gorgeous. Blue walls. Big windows. Big kitchen, with tons of storage. Hardwood floors.(no hotel carpet!) A stage for the band. A beautiful outdoor area with trees and wrought iron.

THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS. Table and chairs and sanctuary included.

It was set out of the way- in Philly, but on a side street covered with trees. One minute you were in the city- surrounded by skyscrapers and litter, the next you turned a corner and you were in some far-off, secret Wedding Land. I kid you not.

So. I don’t really think there’s a moral to this story- except, uh. It happens sometimes. The end.

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