Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Holy cats, what a weekend

So I have no idea what happened on Saturday. My brain can't reach that far back.

But Sunday was ridiculously indulgent.

I'm supposed to be living this grain/processed sugar free diet, which for the most part, I am. But something happened on Sunday that broke me down. And that something was:

You bet. I gave in. I had double doubles, 2 bagels, and a large turkey bacon sandwich. And let me tell you that the turkey in the turkey bacon sandwich was NOT actual turkey.

Part of the problem was, when I went into Winnipeg, I left early because the stores advertised that they were open at 9:30. But when I got there, pretty much everything was closed until 11. So I had all this time on my hands. And I REALLY like their coffee. And it just so happened that the Tims I was at had blueberry bagels, which are my FAVORITE. After that I went to Costco and walked around the warehouse, looked around and stretched my legs.

Finally, when everything opened, I went to Ricki's first. They were on the last day of their sale, and I had 3 gift cards to use. After picking out half the things in the store, I spotted the awesomest clutch ever. It was made of silver, almost chain-mail-esque material and I felt like it would be a perfect bridesmaid gift. And it was ON SALE!

The problem was, however, that there were only 2. And I needed 5. So the extremely nice salesgirl made a round of calls to the other Ricki's stores in the city. Surely some would have them too, right?

Well, only one other store, in the St Vital mall had 2. In the entire city, with like 6 Ricki's in it, there were only 4 of these purses. Gaahhhh.

Well, I thought to myself, no worries. I'll pick up the 2, so I have 4, and then just think of something different for my maid of honour, who happens to be my little sister.

And then the salesgirl comes to the dressing room (because I'm trying on half the store while this is happening) and says, "Do you want me to try our store in Brandon?'

What a sweetheart. 'SURE', said I. 'WHY NOT'.

Fuck, but Brandon is at least 2 hours away from Winnipeg! I and just drove and hour and a half to get to Winnipeg! And sure enough, Brandon has some. So one got put on hold for me.

So once I bought all my new clothes (and the 2 clutches) I hightailed it to St Vital and picked up the other 2 purses.

Then I got in my car and, with a pit stop at Tim hortons for a bathroom break, coffee and another bagel, I was on my way to Brandon.

Once in Brandon, I went straight to the mall and picked up the clutch. Relief flooded me. I felt complete and stable once more. Not really. I felt like a foolish wreck. Not only had I just spent like 5 hours in the car, I had eaten nothing but coffee and processed wheat. And for what? 5 clutches, that's what.

So, with another stop at Tim Hortons (there is literally one on every block, EVERYWHERE!), where I grabbed a bottle of water, a double double and a large sandwich, I drove home.

AND THEN. When I finally made it back to the village where I live (from now on to be known as TVWIL) I decided to stop by the curling rink just in case Big C was still there. Sure enough, he was. He was also drunker than a skunk (Bonspiels do that to him). So I hung around and talked with him and 2 other men for a couple of hours, just basically hanging back, having a few drinks and shooting the shit. It was nice, but I was exhausted and just wanted to put my long johns on and lay down.

When we finally got home. I couldn't sleep.


So the moral of my story? Give your bridesmaids a pair of earring. It's less stress that way. And AVOID TIM HORTONS!!!

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Crazy People. Is it just me, or has everyone gone stupid?


Last time I came on here, it was to rant about how unhappy I am about this wedding planning show.

It hasn't changed, although I have lost some weight, thanks to The Primal Blueprint 21 Day Transformation. 5 pounds so far, to be exact. And it's only week one! That alone makes me happy. My dress WILL fit!

Next stop is menswear. After looking around the Moores' site I'd like something like this:


Except without the handkerchief. Doesn't need a boutonniere AND a handkerchief.  I'm thinking a navy tie and white vest for the groomsmen, and a white vest/white tie for Big C.

Or maybe something like this:

Like still grey, but a shade darker. Platinum, I think they called it. I think with a dark tie (navy) it will look fine. If they don't have navy, then I'll just get them all to wear silver vest/tie and Big C can have a white one. Actually mulberry looks kinda nice, with the grey. Except these are manly men. Don't know how they feel about mulberry and grey...

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

I could use a hug.

Ugh. Weddings.

Specifically wedding planning.


You know, when we first got engaged, I was so completely over the moon, there was really no way I was getting off cloud 9. Every waking moment was spent thinking and planning this special get-together and every night was spent dreaming about them. So excited, was I.

Now I can't wait to have this goddamn motherfucking piece of crap day over with. The whole thing is ruined.

Oh. That's a big much.

I didn't want a big day. I wanted a small day. Me, my fiance (we'll call him Big C), our parents and siblings. Just exchanging vows, signing the papers, wearing a ring to symbolize our union and then maybe supper and drinks to celebrate.

Nope. Noooope. That's not what I get. I now have a full-blown hootenanny on my hands.

I get panic attacks, passive-aggressive sisters, overly dramatic mothers, and indifferent in-laws. Too many cooks have spoiled this broth. It's supposed to be a day of love. A day for Big C and I. Now it's a shitshow of 275 people, some of whom I wouldn't know from a hole in the ground (but they HAVE to come because they're neighbors and her husband just died!) and more money being thrown away which I can't think about otherwise I get heart palpitations.

Heart palpitations and gavistcon. My new best friends...

Seriously. How did this get so big? Why did I not speak up a hell of a lot sooner than this?! It's way too fucking late now. We're getting married in 4 1/2 months. The save the dates went out. The invitations are almost ordered. Big C has his list of things to do and I'm trying like fuck to raise some money to pay for the decorations. (4 fucking grand for decor! WTF! Because I wanted the hall to look less hall-ish ooh la la!)

It's all about impressing people. About making a splash. Keeping up with the Jones. Which is ironic because where I come from the Jones' are poor.

I'm so tired. And I'm so stressed. And I'm so done with being tired and stressed. I just want to be at peace. Why can't I be at peace!?!?

Sure. I like my dress. I feel quite beautiful in it. But then I worry that it's too sparkly. Too show off-y, if you will. Like that actually matters. IT'S MY FUCKING WEDDING! Holy shit.  Plus the fact that I'm getting so fat I can hardly fit my dress anymore... Fatty McFuck is my name.

Some women are born bridezillas and some women are forced into that role by terrible people who pass judgement too quickly.

For instance. I don't want flowers. It's not my thing. I will probably carry a small bouquet down the aisle, but my bridesmaids are carrying a little lantern (maybe decorated with greenery). My sister, who is my MOH, and my mom, who are supposed to be the most supportive women in my life have nothing good to say. They want flowers. If I don't have flowers, then I'm a stupid person with bad taste. But no pressure...

Another instance. I could not find an invitation that I loved. I was not willing to settle, because I didn't want to shell out near to 800 bucks on paper that I thought 'would do'. I'm sorry that I care, ok? So I'm fussy with my money, sue me. I had my heart set on a picture invitation, but couldn't find one that worked with the invitation wording and it was sincerely driving me up the wall, like I was going MAD.

I had a few picked out that Big C agreed on, and one in particular was nice. Not awesome, or beautiful, but it would do. My sister and mom liked it, because it was traditional (they're very matchy matchy people) and wanted me to go with that. I wouldn't order it because I just felt like I wasn't done looking. There had to be something out there that I was more excited to spend my money on. And then I get accused by them of being too picky and if I don't have a traditional invitation mom will get made fun of by other women in town. You know what? Fuck you and your idea of picky you irrational bitches.

Too harsh? Too harsh...

So tonight, Big C and I decided to go to mixbook.com and have a look around. We started one from scratch together, in the colours that we like, and I added a picture on the back. It's simple, it's what we want, and it's cheap. Bam. And my sister and mom can just not say anything at all if they don't like it.  They'll probably say something, but by then it will all be ordered and if they want to be useful they can lick stamps.

Fuck, I could use a hug.