Diana and Kerri mug for the photobooth camera at the Bethesda bridal expo.

Every now and then on my morning commute, I hear those advertisements on the radio about the DC Bridal Showcase, and for some reason it’s that one with the annoying “Come to the bridal showcase!” chorus that get stuck in my head for at least an hour after hearing it. It doesn’t matter how many times I listen to other songs—that one woman’s voice demanding I go to the bridal showcase always stays put. So when I got engaged, I finally gave in to that nagging little jingle and bought my tickets.

I grabbed my mom and some girlfriends and headed to the Bethesda Bridal Expo. When I pictured a bridal expo in my head, it looked like some magical land full of fun ideas, free samples, and a year’s supply of estrogen. However, as soon as I opened the door and saw row after row of vendors hawking their wares, I started to feel overwhelmed.

A man at the entrance gave me a big “bride” button to wear to distinguish me from my posse. Each of us was handed a subscription to Modern Bride and a plastic bag to fill with brochures and business cards. We were then given a bunch of perforated tickets, the kind you’d use for rides at a carnival, and were told to use them at vendor booths to enter a raffle to win free loot.

Lately, I’ve been reminding Ben to take care of his tuxedo. I have my dress, all my accessories, and my ensemble is at the seamstress. I’ve learned that guys run on Guy Wedding Time, which is a special alternate universe where everything can be done in a day. They don’t like to think about it and want to make a decision quickly and get it over with.

While Ben is a wonderful guy and likes to be somewhat involved in the wedding planning, I’ve learned one feature of Guy Wedding Time is that the guy in question will inevitably become overwhelmed if you present him with too many options. I’ve found it best to do the research first, present your fiancé with three options, and then let him choose.

Anyway, we’re about three months from the wedding, and it’s time to start looking at suits. But as we found out, it took visits to more than three stores before we found the perfect tuxedo.

When you’re planning a wedding, some good-natured soul will inevitably tell you, “Remember, this day is all about you.” My theory is that people who say this are either single or former brides who’d like to perpetuate the myth. Let’s get this straight, ladies: The wedding isn’t—and never will be—all about you.

For all you brides-to-be, my goal isn’t to burst your bubble but to help you avoid potential minefields as you and your fiancé make the trip from bended knee to the altar.

Planning a wedding is full of politics, opinions, and egos. For the first time in your life, you’ll experience family members getting upset because they feel your decision to have sirloin instead of their favorite chicken recipe is a direct insult. You might have another family member who feels that walking down the aisle to “All You Need Is Love” flouts tradition and makes a mockery of the marriage ceremony. You’ll experience a multitude of opinions, many of them uninvited, about everything from the band to your toenail polish. You might even have someone you barely know corner you in the elevator and ask how much your wedding is setting you back. (Seriously, that really happened.)

A cake tasting from Sugar Bakers in Catonsville.

My love of wedding cake started at an early age. As a young wedding guest, I’d stare at the beautiful confection in the corner and wait for the magical moment when the bride and groom glided over to it and began to cut. As the bride lovingly got cake shoved in her face, I’d eagerly lick my lips in anticipation.

As soon as Ben proposed, one of the first things on my to-do list was to find the perfect cake. When I’m not being a bride, I work as a producer for a national crime television show, so I basically hunt down criminals all day. But now I was on the scent of a sweeter prey: a baker.

The first thing to do was look at online reviews. My two favorite sites for this are WeddingWire.com and Washingtonian.com. The first is a nifty site where you can plug in the type of service you’re looking for and your Zip code to find a variety of vendors in the area along with dozens of reviews from other brides. I used Washingtonian.com’s wedding guide in conjunction with WeddingWire to come up with a list of bakers I wanted to contact.

A month after I got engaged, I had two things on my mind (other than trying to erase the image of me hulking out on my wedding dress). The first was finding a venue. The second was finding a dress. I decided to start with the venue, because unlike the dress, I couldn’t do it any bodily harm.

Ben and I began our search, and I couldn’t help but feel a little like Goldilocks. One place was too small, another too big. This one was too informal, another too stuffy. But finally we found one that was just right. When we pulled into the parking lot at Antrim 1844 in Taneytown, Maryland, Ben looked a little doubtful. The drive had taken more than an hour, and he said this place better wow him if he was going to consider going this far afield. Lucky for me, Negative Nancy (Ned?) quickly disappeared as soon as he got out of the car and looked around.

I watched the light reflect off my ring as I typed. It had been exactly one week since Ben proposed, and I found the new bling to be rather hypnotic. It startled me when a helpful coworker popped into my cubicle to declare that the famous Filene’s Basement wedding-dress sale was the next day and I simply had to go. When I asked why, she didn’t pause for breath as she exclaimed, “Because it’s the best wedding dress sale ever and won’t come again until next year, so if you don’t go now you’ll miss out!”

It sounded convincing enough, but I was nervous. I mean, I’d only been engaged a week—wasn’t it a little soon to go wedding-dress shopping? But it might be my only chance to get a really nice dress for a killer price. Maybe I’d just go to get some ideas and only get a dress if it really caught my eye.

I’d heard about the “Running of the Brides” before, but had never imagined myself going. It seemed so brutal, at least on the news. Then again, would I risk being maimed by a hulked-out bride if it meant getting Vera Wang at $799 or less? Yes, I decided, I would.

Note: Since Eleni has moved on from being engaged to being actually married, we’ve asked a new wedding blogger to come on the scene to chronicle her wedding planning. Please welcome Diana, who will be posting every Wednesday to Bridal Party.

On July 25, 2008 at approximately 1:57 in the afternoon, I got engaged. I remember that at the exact moment he got down on one knee, my heart started pounding in my ears. This made it rather difficult to hear what he was saying, and while I was thankful my ticker was enthusiastically pumping away, I wished it would quiet down a bit. That’s the thing about hearts; they rarely do what you tell them to. But when you least expect it, they can lead you somewhere unexpectedly wonderful.

I’m an associate producer for a national crime television show, and two years ago, my boss asked me to help train the New Guy. I walked over to the newly assembled cubicle and cleared my throat to get his attention. When he turned around, my heart caught in my throat. Turned out that New Guy had really, really beautiful eyes.