Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Hey, Mr. DJ!
It wasn't originally the plan. There was supposed to be a band, but the band fell through, and we found ourselves faced with trying to find a new band. And they were all either too annoying or too expensive or both, so when a Groupon came along offering a DJ at a discount we just said screw it, let's hire him.
And now I'm having nightmares about Love Actually. You know the scene, where Laura Linney and the dude from The Walking Dead are all sad at a wedding, and they're making fun of the DJ for playing Bay City Rollers and then—the horror!—he busts out "Puppy Love," and as a single tear rolls down his cheek he is declared, officially, the worst DJ in the world? That. That is what scares me. That I'll forget to put something on our "do not play" list that could ruin not just the moment, but the whole evening. I have seen it happen. I do not want it to happen to me.
And more than the dress not fitting or me forgetting my vows or the invitations getting my name wrong, it is the idea of a party-killing moment that terrifies me about this process.