Honor does not have a "u" in it.

This is how petty my life decisions have become: I just spent the last hour trying to fight the world on "honor" versus "honour" on our wedding invitations. I Googled "wording on invitations," "non-formal wedding invites," and "WHY IS THERE A 'U' IN HONOUR." I came up empty-handed and frustrated.

"Honour" is more formal, and therefore appropriate for invitations, every Web site in the world says. It's gotta be spelled with a "u" and, for good measure, it should also be written in a really scripted typeface on thick pink cardstock with roses. And don't forget the tissue paper in between the invites. And if you can spray a rosy scent on the cards, you get 67 extra bonus points.

BUT NO. The word "etiquette" makes me shiver. I don't like following much etiquette. Thank you cards and RSVPs I can handle. But "do the right thing" means nothing to me, especially when I know that there is no "u" in honor in the United States. I know I'm right on this. And you can't tell me it's RIGHT to spell it incorrectly.

There will be no honour in my marriage. Honor, yeah. Sure. But no honour. Take that, England. Take that, Ms. Manners.

And "protective" tissue paper? NO. What is it for? What's it need to protect? What kind of hell and high water conditions are my invitations going to suffer that TISSUE PAPER, thin, see-through tissue paper will be able to save? I could write a million crude things here about the lunacy of tissue paper, but if you passed the third grade you already know them all.

And script fonts? NO. And don't get me started on roses and hearts and petals and heavy cardstock.

That's it.

I said "Dang the man." And sorry, Mom. We're doing seal and send invitations, light and fall-like, and you're going to like it, World. Because let's face it. If you don't get a sheet of tissue paper in between my invitations and the enclosed envelope, you will not remember this faux pas in 2008. Or 2020. It does not matter. Unless you collect invitation tissue paper. In which case, I'm sorry.

And don't get me started on wording ... We have six parents. Six. And I don't think the typeface allows us to list them all. Can't we just announce ourselves? What's the etiquette stuff? I asked my mom, feeling out her response for signs of toe-stepping. She just dodged the question with "Isn't there someone who knows wedding etiquette?"

Uh, Dear Abby. But I have a feeling it's too late for that kind of help now. Now, my letter will read more like "Dear Abby, I was going to get married, but the thought of all the stuff I had to do and all the work I'd have on my desk when I got back and all the stress, I just went and eloped. How do I get my mom to talk to me again?"

Sigh. But, see, you're reading this after I've calmed down on my Google searches. It's out of my hands now. It's done. They're written. Thank god.

Moving on!

(Photo: Simplyinvitations.co.uk; These look nothing like the ones I picked out.)