Party like it's 2003

As many of you know, Aaron and I eloped in 2003--thus avoiding all of the stress/politics/hassle/financial ruin of your typical white dress/ big hair churchy nuptuals.

Or so I thought.
I was trying to think of a way to get Aaron to the East Coast so that all of my friends who hadn't met him could do so, and preferably all at once, as those of you who know me know that my schedule is usually packed from the time I hit the ground in DC until the time we take off again. Well, this brain child morphed into the party that is shrinking me. It's really become a belated wedding reception (and I do believe we hold the world title for longest time elapsed between wedding and reception), which means that I had to send invites to all kinds of people from all over the country--you know the ones I'm talking about: so and so who was a dear pal of your grandmother's back in the sixties who attended your baptism, but no, you haven't seen her since. Which is fine. I like a good party and I figure the more the merrier, right? But is it too much to ask that you RSVP?

I'm fairly certain that Miss Manners would not consider failing to respond the same as a phone call saying "sorry, we can't come". I understand that many people are working/can't afford to travel/don't want to travel with kids/don't want to come. That's cool. I have turned down invitations to weddings/graduations/christenings and I know that there are many and varied reasons for doing so. My feelings will not be hurt.
But I shouldn't have to call you and email you and call you and email you to have you tell me what I already know: you're not coming.

All of that is to say: come September 1 if I haven't heard from you I shall file a missing persons report on your behalf. And I will be eating your slice of pie.