Ahhhhh, for those of you who know me, I bet you were assuming that I was confessing to being a shopaholic... Nope, today I am confessing my sins to being the worst-bride-to-be you have ever met!
My better half and I have been engaged for almost 4 years. We met thru some mutual friends who had set us up on blind date, and we had our first date playing mini golf over top of a very stenchy septic field while our friends looked on. Not the most romantic of dates and incredibly difficult to get to know each other when you have an audience. To be honest, I wasn’t too sure about my better half when I met him. Ultimately, he was very handsome (I like that dark and brooding thing he has going on), clean cut, impeccable manners and definitely what you would consider a complete Mr. Nice Guy. And let me say that there is absolutely nothing wrong with a nice guy. They are dependable, reliable, responsible and you know where you stand with one, but I have always been ever so slightly attracted to those wickedly bad boys (and what girl hasn’t?). However, after a couple of holes on the mini golf course and what I perceived as a gentleman thing to do by always letting me go first, was nothing short of his own pervy maneuver to constantly look down my top each time I bent down to get my ball. What popped in my head was, “wow what a pervert” and then the second thing that popped in my head was “cool he’s twisted... yup, I’ll go on a second date with him!”. Three years later and we were settled together in our recently built little home where we were living in average couple bliss.
We had occasionally talked about getting married and we had even looked at a specific ring a few times, but I have to tell you that I have never been one of those girls who wanted to lasso a man and get him down the aisle before he changes his mind. In fact, I don’t ever recall even dreaming of my wedding. As a little girl, I dreamt about accepting my award for best actress at the Oscars and signing autographs while living in a mansion surrounded by 200 of my favourite dogs and a string of boy toys at my disposal. Nothing much has changed in my dreams, I still fantasize about people ooohing and aahhing over me. Yup, my dreams are nothing short of delusional thoughts of grandeur. But that topic is for another day!
Anywhoooo, one Saturday I had spent the whole day looking for an outfit to wear to a wedding. This is no small feat I tell you. While I adore shopping, I do absolutely abhor clothes shopping. Especially for this lumpy bumpy frumpy body I have been cursed with. By the time I had gotten home, I was the Queen of Misery. I was your worst nightmare come true. My better half had come home after a hard day of work and he had seemed completely agitated which irritated my already cranky mood. He asked me if I wanted to go to a favourite beach of ours for a nice Sunday stroll. In one of my less than stellar moments in life, I nearly tore a strip off him and regaled all of my horrible shopping moments, never once thinking about what his day was or what was agitating his mind. Needless to say, I was incredibly surprised when all of a sudden he dropped down on one knee and said “I can’t wait any longer, will you marry me” and then proceeded to produce the ring that I saw and loved a year earlier. My first thoughts were: Are you kidding me? You want to marry me after my rant and rave? I actually said to him “you are asking me now?” because I certainly would not have! I could not believe that this poor romantic bugger was asking this bitchy broad to marry him! Of course I said Yes! I mean who else would take me after that. I certainly wouldn’t have. And I was this close to kicking my own ass to the curb!
Well in these past 4 years, I have bought exactly one bridal magazine which did not inspire me with all those gorgeous stick woman sashaying around in their designer gowns, like that is reality.. Hello? Then I bought an bridal organizer 3 years ago, which I still have not even opened or looked at, it has too many pages and makes my head spin! I even succumbed to the pressure and went to an actual bridal fair last fall. My head was swimming from all the people throwing brochures at me, some cutesy 20 something year old with her perky boobs hijacked me and painted a red heart on my cheek, girls were giggling and running from one booth to another all the while oohing and ahhing over this and that. And then there was me, I was sweating profusely, my eyes were darting here, there and everywhere looking for the next possible exit sign and I was sure that at any moment I would need a paper bag to blow into before I passed out.
Sadly I can confirm that we have set three dates now in total, all of which have come and gone and we are no closer to getting married than the day he proposed. Its not that I don’t want to marry him, he is one of the best things that has ever happened in my life. I suppose you could say that I am lazy and not much of a planner which is partially true, or you could say that I am cheap and I would rather buy artwork than put money into a wedding, again that could be true, or you could say that I just am too tired to figure it out, but I guess the real truth of the matter is that I want him to have an “out”. I have never told him that but the fact remains that my personal limitations impede greatly on his enjoyment of life and I don’t want him to wake up with regrets. I am seriously a really cranky woman! And in my own way I am keeping that door open for him should he wish to bolt.
Thankfully, the majority of our friends and family have long since quit asking us when the big day will be. They have finally become sick of my standard answer of “I don’t know, maybe in a year”. I am also thankful of the fact that my better half does not actually read my blog, or he would probably have a Justice of the Peace at our door tomorrow morning making sure that we were married. In any event, who knows, maybe one day i'll actually decide it is time and we will tie the knot. Until then, I think we are both okay with living in sin and besides, I could use the money for another really nice piece of artwork, which reminds me, I gotta go because there are so many art galleries and only so much time!
Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches.
My better half and I have been engaged for almost 4 years. We met thru some mutual friends who had set us up on blind date, and we had our first date playing mini golf over top of a very stenchy septic field while our friends looked on. Not the most romantic of dates and incredibly difficult to get to know each other when you have an audience. To be honest, I wasn’t too sure about my better half when I met him. Ultimately, he was very handsome (I like that dark and brooding thing he has going on), clean cut, impeccable manners and definitely what you would consider a complete Mr. Nice Guy. And let me say that there is absolutely nothing wrong with a nice guy. They are dependable, reliable, responsible and you know where you stand with one, but I have always been ever so slightly attracted to those wickedly bad boys (and what girl hasn’t?). However, after a couple of holes on the mini golf course and what I perceived as a gentleman thing to do by always letting me go first, was nothing short of his own pervy maneuver to constantly look down my top each time I bent down to get my ball. What popped in my head was, “wow what a pervert” and then the second thing that popped in my head was “cool he’s twisted... yup, I’ll go on a second date with him!”. Three years later and we were settled together in our recently built little home where we were living in average couple bliss.
We had occasionally talked about getting married and we had even looked at a specific ring a few times, but I have to tell you that I have never been one of those girls who wanted to lasso a man and get him down the aisle before he changes his mind. In fact, I don’t ever recall even dreaming of my wedding. As a little girl, I dreamt about accepting my award for best actress at the Oscars and signing autographs while living in a mansion surrounded by 200 of my favourite dogs and a string of boy toys at my disposal. Nothing much has changed in my dreams, I still fantasize about people ooohing and aahhing over me. Yup, my dreams are nothing short of delusional thoughts of grandeur. But that topic is for another day!
Anywhoooo, one Saturday I had spent the whole day looking for an outfit to wear to a wedding. This is no small feat I tell you. While I adore shopping, I do absolutely abhor clothes shopping. Especially for this lumpy bumpy frumpy body I have been cursed with. By the time I had gotten home, I was the Queen of Misery. I was your worst nightmare come true. My better half had come home after a hard day of work and he had seemed completely agitated which irritated my already cranky mood. He asked me if I wanted to go to a favourite beach of ours for a nice Sunday stroll. In one of my less than stellar moments in life, I nearly tore a strip off him and regaled all of my horrible shopping moments, never once thinking about what his day was or what was agitating his mind. Needless to say, I was incredibly surprised when all of a sudden he dropped down on one knee and said “I can’t wait any longer, will you marry me” and then proceeded to produce the ring that I saw and loved a year earlier. My first thoughts were: Are you kidding me? You want to marry me after my rant and rave? I actually said to him “you are asking me now?” because I certainly would not have! I could not believe that this poor romantic bugger was asking this bitchy broad to marry him! Of course I said Yes! I mean who else would take me after that. I certainly wouldn’t have. And I was this close to kicking my own ass to the curb!
Well in these past 4 years, I have bought exactly one bridal magazine which did not inspire me with all those gorgeous stick woman sashaying around in their designer gowns, like that is reality.. Hello? Then I bought an bridal organizer 3 years ago, which I still have not even opened or looked at, it has too many pages and makes my head spin! I even succumbed to the pressure and went to an actual bridal fair last fall. My head was swimming from all the people throwing brochures at me, some cutesy 20 something year old with her perky boobs hijacked me and painted a red heart on my cheek, girls were giggling and running from one booth to another all the while oohing and ahhing over this and that. And then there was me, I was sweating profusely, my eyes were darting here, there and everywhere looking for the next possible exit sign and I was sure that at any moment I would need a paper bag to blow into before I passed out.
Sadly I can confirm that we have set three dates now in total, all of which have come and gone and we are no closer to getting married than the day he proposed. Its not that I don’t want to marry him, he is one of the best things that has ever happened in my life. I suppose you could say that I am lazy and not much of a planner which is partially true, or you could say that I am cheap and I would rather buy artwork than put money into a wedding, again that could be true, or you could say that I just am too tired to figure it out, but I guess the real truth of the matter is that I want him to have an “out”. I have never told him that but the fact remains that my personal limitations impede greatly on his enjoyment of life and I don’t want him to wake up with regrets. I am seriously a really cranky woman! And in my own way I am keeping that door open for him should he wish to bolt.
Thankfully, the majority of our friends and family have long since quit asking us when the big day will be. They have finally become sick of my standard answer of “I don’t know, maybe in a year”. I am also thankful of the fact that my better half does not actually read my blog, or he would probably have a Justice of the Peace at our door tomorrow morning making sure that we were married. In any event, who knows, maybe one day i'll actually decide it is time and we will tie the knot. Until then, I think we are both okay with living in sin and besides, I could use the money for another really nice piece of artwork, which reminds me, I gotta go because there are so many art galleries and only so much time!
Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches.
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