I believe that when two people decide to get married that the people in their lives should have to sign some sort of no-drama waiver. Agreeing that there will be NO drama until the wedding is over and if they create drama, then they should have to pay some sort of fine. Not necessarily to the couple, because perhaps the couple is drama oriented themselves... Perhaps the fund should go to some sort of state sponsored wedding fund -- something to help the less fortunate have a nicer wedding than they might have been able to have on their own. Or to the Democratic National Party. Or to the United Way. Something.

Yes, you want to know why I think this. But, you know. And you know I can't say -- here on the internet. That's right, even I still think some things are too private.

Too sad, because all I really wanted to write about tonight was the dialogue I've been having of late with my work buddy The List Master. She could have sparked a really interesting blog topic. She is the only person that I know who would write a list about the lists she needs to make. I mean, that's serious stuff -- she could give my mother a run for her list making money and that is saying A LOT. But, I adore the girl. (And I don't even say this b/c I gave her my blog address and told her to pop in -- she won't be able to tear herself away from cleaning toilets and making lists long enough to bother with me!)

Can't write about her now though, too much drama. Too sad.

All I know is that we must really love each other to pieces if we still want to be married after all this. Seriously. I'm so stressed, I have begun to lose my appetite and when does that EVER happen?

If that keeps up, I'm in serious danger of losing weight. I mean, will the madness ever end?? Next thing I'll be wanting to exercise.

I gotta go lay down until THAT feeling passes. ;-)

xoxo,
H

Quote of the Day

If we were to wake up some morning and find that everyone was the same
race, creed and color, we would find some other cause for prejudice by
noon. -George D. Aiken, US senator (1892-1984)


Raise your hand if you're foolish enough to believe THIS isn't true!

Winding down into the last days of the Madness of Bridezilla. Will report when I can!

-H

Poker... I hardly know her!

Have been thinking about poker a lot lately, especially since we played hold 'em last week. I've always loved poker -- because I really like to play cards and then there's the added thrill of maybe winning a little bit of money to boot. Secretly, I'm kind of competitive.

But, Hold 'em was so much different than "regular" poker and it really played into one of my favorite things in life -- psychoanalyzing people. Hold 'em is the greatest bluff of all time. And you never ever know if the person is bluffing you unless you stay til the end to find out. But, that means bluffing that much yourself. And it's a huge gamble. Because, the person really could have something and then you've blown it. Or they could have nothing and you blew it by NOT staying in. But, if no one stays -- then you'll never know.

It's really fascinating. I could think about it for hours -- I'm THAT shallow. I could really see myself turning celebrity poker into my new must-see tv on Thursday nights. I'm THAT fascinated by watching people for the tell. Because it's all about the tell.

I don't think I have one because I'm too gutless to stay in when I don't really have anything. I've been burned that way before.

Frankly, I could easily flip this into a conversation about relationships -- but when can't I do that? It's my second greatest passion -- dissecting relationships... But, that could lead me down a whole other tangent about how Scott thinks I am unhappy because I enjoy picking apart our relationship so much. He says that I should just LIVE in the moment. But, that's not me -- is it? I'm an "old soul" -- a theme which has been reiterated to me again this week -- and no matter how happy I am, I'm always going to pick it apart and analyze it because that is what drives me. Figuring out the connections between people and what keeps us with them and they with us...

Which leads me back to the game of poker. What keeps people holding on to certain cards and having such certainty in their strength that they will lie to their friends and lovers about it and take their money without remorse?? It's crazy, isn't it? The gamble.

And yet, we gamble this way with our own lives every day, don't we? Every choice we make with absolute certainty always has the opportunity to backfire without our having planned for it at all...

Hard to believe all those guys with their green visors and wife beater (shudder) tank tops are really life's philosophers in disguise, isn't it?

-H

This edition of Bridezilla News brought to you by Dr. Bling

I recently read an article about bridal jewelry. The author was disparaging the bride's choice of accessories, saying that they were obviously cheap rhinestoney things. I am not that sure where I read this article but I really wish I could find the person who wrote it so I could poke a stick in his/her eye.

A really sharp one.

I was ready to give in to the cheap blingy accessories, but every time I almost do I can hear these words in my head. Which is very frustrating, because the non-cheap looking accessory that will perfectly complement my dress does not freaking exist.

I have searched high, I have searched not high and I'm telling you -- it AIN'T like Ragu, it AIN'T in there.

It's the nightmare of the invitations all over again. Looking at the same stuff over and over again that's almost right, but not quite. It's very important that I find something that doesn't make my dress look tacky because otherwise what was the point of spending all that money on the friggin' dress, right?? And the thing is that what I am visualizing in my head is not some crazy thing -- it's somewhat simple, somewhat sparkly and as close to elegant as I will ever get. I even had something almost exactly like it, but the pearls were the wrong color. Sigh.

Tonight, I thought my search was over. I should have known better when I realized I was in a store that had necklaces hanging OUTSIDE the case that were priced at $116. I mean, if that's what's hanging outside for anyone to take what could possibly be the prices of the one I was so enamored of INSIDE the case??

Two hundred and eighty five dollars.

American.

I mean, come on. It's rhinestones and silver, let's get serious here. At Claire's it would have been 2.85.

It was embarrassing to not even have her pull it out when I found out the prices, but there was no way that I was going to let that thing get near my neck and risk loving it. I may be crazy but I am NOT stupid.

So, the search continues... I'll have to go again -- the viruses are taking over my computer again. It's kind of like working with dynamite, you just never know how long you're going to get...

I was talking to my godmother today and finally came up with an accurate analogy of what it is to be Inside Bridezilla's Head... It's kind of like no matter what I'm doing, no matter what's going on, I constantly have ticker running along the bottom of my brain screen of all the things left to do or figure out or whatever about the wedding. ALL the time. Like CNN. Tickety tickety tickety.

This means that I can be sitting and having a completely normal conversation with someone (on those rare occasions when that still occurs) but the whole time the ticker is running... Do I need to go buy those bubbles or did my mother? Where have I not looked for jewelry yet? What should I get the bridesmaids for gifts? What time should we meet for our hair stuff? When are we going to get the marriage license? Wonder if I still have time to find a reading for the ceremony? Signing plate, have to remember to get the signing plate...

Constantly. I really wonder how long it will take for my brain to return to a normal state of affairs after all this is over??

Scott has a friend whose wife STILL talks about her wedding -- and they have been married for like 10 years. The only time I ever met her she was asking if Scott still had some of the pictures from that day, since he was in the wedding. Which I am sure that he would still have if he were a girl or gay. Which, I can vouch, he is NEITHER.

I do have a fear that this could happen to me.

All I know is that when the day is come and gone I just hope that it's just like most other stressful things I have gone through in my life -- it just gets flushed away like it never even happened.

Except for the good stuff. Like the words we are saying to each other and the meaning behind them. Y'all, there will not be a dry eye in the house. I'm thinking of having my face shellacked in order to maintain some level of dignity. Either that or having cups temporarily installed below my eyes in order to prevent myself from drowning. Frankly, standing up with Scott and getting to say all those things in front of all my friends and family is the only reason that I am looking forward to this thing.

Bridezilla goes corny... and to bed! I only get about 7 minutes at a time on this computer anyways before the evil pop-up comes in and locks up my computer and the time is just about

Sugar and Spice

Over the past few weeks, I have had an interesting dialogue with Katrina about the nature of good and evil... No, not in the Universe -- in me. You see, I have been trying to convince her that I am basically a mean girl. I say mean things, I think mean things, and it's because I am mean. I don't say this because I think it's great that I'm mean, but I admit that there are times that I do get a kick out of it.

She thinks I am full of shit.

She may be right. (Mark this day on your calendar, Katrina.)

Well, more right than not at least. I am pretty mean, but there's a lot of niceness in there too. And truthfully, I get a really big kick of doing nice things for people and saying nice things to them. (Scott would likely heartily disagree with this -- but HE'S full of shit on that score.) I even get the warm fuzzies. But, it doesn't have the same sense of fun to it that being mean does.

It's kind of like the difference between eating milk and cookies versus doing tequila shots. There's a certain satisfaction derived from both of them, but there's something about doing a shot of tequila that makes you feel a little dirty and raunchy for doing it. Fun, but dirrrrty.

I have a few friends whom I frequently try to empower to better themselves and their lives. To make them realize that THEY have the power within them to be happy and to get what they want. A ruby red slipper bit of a kick in the ass. This is the happy medium of being nice and being mean -- you're telling people that they are good people and showing them all of the potential that they have while simultaneously giving them a kick in the ass to force them to boost themselves up to this potential. Scott says it's all part of my plan to take over the world. "The same thing we try to do every day -- take over the world..."

But, is that so bad?? That my "evil plan" is to try to make people realize their potential?

Guess I'm guilty then.

Bridezille signing off... Soon to be Wifezilla in just 23 more days now. ;-)

It was a dark and stormy night... Well, it was raining -- I don't know if I would say storming... But I've always wanted to use that corny line to start a story. Anyways, I was sitting on the front porch smoking and I was really enjoying listening to the sounds of the traffic and the rain around me. It reminded me of the ocean, the combination of the two. Just down below me were the headlights of the car, dancing in the raindrops. (For Scott et al -- and just in the distance, I could hear pollen fires crackling.) I suddenly had a longing for the home of my youth, the quiet ease of surbubia.

The homes in the circle, calling out their stories softly to one another. Almost like the hum of electricity. Then it hit me. That sound, that softness was all happening in the front of the houses... While we spent our nights behind the houses in the decks and rolling backyards. Which was tender and beautiful, but sheltered from the true heartbeat of the street... Where the real beauty lay.

I realize that I want to be in the front porch of that world. In an old time age, without the loss of innocence. But with a screened in porch -- just so I still have some shelter from all that beauty.

And from the skeeters! ;-)

The thing is... I have the picture a lot. Sitting on the screened front porch in the rosy twilight absorbing all the life in the world and feeling comfortably twingly... And Scott's always in it. And that's what it's really all about...

hp

Engaged! 

This picture was taken the night that Scott and I got engaged and happens to sit right next to my computer in a pile of my 10,000 things to do. THAT girl is HAPPY. She had the world at her feet, she finally got the big fish in the leaky boat, and life was good.

I have to look at the girl all the time now to remember why I'm going through all of this madness and turmoil and fighting fighting fighting. There are people in the world that when you ask them how their wedding planning is going, they will smile and just act like all is great with the world.

I want to know where they are getting their drugs? It's either drugs or money. That's the only way to survive this -- have enough money to throw on whatever curveball comes at you or have enough drugs to just not give a fuck.

But, that girl and I... We've been talking a lot lately. I ask her her secrets, ask her to remind me of that night (oh WHAT a night!), and to give me strength. I know that I will be that happy again and that silly but boy oh boy it has been a long time since I was quite as happy with him as I was that night.

Nor he with me. That's the thing. I know that I'm crazy and that I'm illogical and just MAD as a hatter, but the point is -- what can I do? It's not like there is a switch where I can just turn it on and off. Buy some earplugs buddy and call your one married friend. He'll tell you that it's like this. Maybe the one married friend can tell me how long it's going to take us to remember that we really do love each and we really had good intentions from the start.

And God bless Scott (and I do mean this) he has almost never used that dread phrase "I told you so" once I started getting this nutty. I don't know how he does it, because I DEFINITELY deserve to hear it -- but he does.

See, it's little things like that and having that girl and her cheesy horsey grin staring up at me that keep me going. I am NOT kidding.

love you mean it
H.

Bridezilla Reporting In

It's going to get much much worse before it gets better. I know this to be true. I accept it. And yet, I'm still not ready for the things when they come up and throw me for a loop.

Today, he says (emails) that he doesn't really see why we need to get a hotel room the night that we get married because we're not going to be there for but a few hours, it's going to be really hard on us time-wise AND added money and pretty much impractical. I respond that I take these points into advisement but that his remarks have hit me pretty hard and I'm being pretty emotional about most things at this point and will need to just talk about it after a little while. He responds back that the BOTTOM LINE is that it's a waste of money that we've already been hemorrhaging and it's not going to happen. That was not the way to go with me. I contend that I have been the one who has been involved in this emotionally, I refuse to be "bottom lined" when I have already said that I KNEW I was being emotional and... Whatever. It was ridiculous.

He then chooses to send me the vows that he has drafted for our wedding about 5 minutes after this. How is THIS fair?? So, I start feeling misty and really wanting to find a way to work it out. I say that we were going to have to buy a bigger bed anyways, how about buying it that week and then have our wedding night be the first night we sleep in it? I acknowledged that this might not be THE easiest thing to accomplish in the world but I was going to try to work it out. Again -- shot down. Basically implied that I was being completely illogical and irrational and that that was never ever going to work out.

You know what? Am I SO wrong for wanting our wedding night to be just slightly different than every other night of our lives before and after? Is that just some crazy pipe dream? I'm not saying that I don't acknowledge the impracticalities and expense of having things any different, but seriously. I cannot understand this complete lack of any sort of emotional anything to go with it. "What're we gonna do, build a shed in your backyard to put the old bed in?"

I don't know dummy -- what were we gonna do with it otherwise?? AUGH.

This is just one example of the stupid crap that people fight about while they are planning a wedding. The absolute worst part about this whole thing is that if I had imagined what my wedding day would be like "ever since I was a little girl" it would never have been like this. It would have been lots lots different. But, I didn't do this and didn't do that because I didn't want to spend any more money and listen to the bitching about it. And now. Here we are. It's just ridiculous. I admit that I do somehow still want to marry him (and yet, feel the strong urge to want to kill him at the same time) but I do not want to have a wedding anymore. Most of the time by the time I finally dredge up the energy to get excited about the event, inevitably SOMETHING will come up that I hadn't foreseen and burst my balloon all over again. Him or his mom or my mom or whatever. It's just ridiculous.

But, the thing that they never tell you is that planning to have a wedding so that you can marry the man you love will make him the man you love to hate. It's true. It is my full belief that women who marry men that don't make them want to kill them at some point during the planning process are probably marrying someone gay and should just get out. It is only the certain knowledge that I am supposed to be feeling this way that keeps me going forward.

Move forward or die.

Because men -- especially this one -- just do not get it. You pour your love and soul and heart and dreams and money money money into this thing and every tiny little responsibility you throw their way, you would think is just a Herculean task. And the constant bitching about how much there is to do? Are you friggin' kidding me?? Do you have any idea how much work went into just getting us to this point?? And you have the a godamned nerve to complain to me about how much work there is?? Seriously? All you have to do is just show up, look good, try not to get cake on my dress when you're rolling it in my face, and that's it. Because all the balls that have been dropped along the way have been picked up. I mean, I am over it. Over. it. Especially when I know that for all of the complaining that he has been doing, he will just be tickled to death to have his favorite cousins and his sisters and his dad and his out of town friends ALL here at the same time, in the same place JUST to see him and tell him how great they think he is and so forth.

And then he says that I just throw that in his face. Well. That's probably true, but you know what? I agonized over invitations for hours, handwrote them (and bullied people into helping me) for hours -- bullied his mom into accepting our choices -- not thrown a bitchy princess fit about the disco ball tux -- found ways to cut corners time and time again... And no. He didn't ask for it and he didn't want it, but I know that if I were a better kind of person -- a kind of person who DIDN'T throw the fact that he's practically had to do nothing to make this happen -- he would really be glad that it's going down. I know because he is a person who truly appreciates the community that he has had throughout his life of his friends and family and how much they have all done for him through the years. That's one of the reasons that I love him and am marrying him.

But, boy -- am I bitter right now. Women in the audience who have known me since God and have reminded me that I have said that I would NEVER get married again, I say that I may believe in getting married but I do not believe in having a wedding. Everyone tells you this from varying degrees of frustration, but I'm telling you this from the bottom of my heart. If I had to do it all over again, it wouldn't have been this. I'm not sure what it would have been, but it would have been easy. Simple. Drama free.

But, now it's too late. All I have to do is survive and make sure that we still want to be together after it is all over.

H.

And now for more of the exact same stuff

I think I should just post some more pictures, that's better than whining about wedding stuff any day.

However, I have recently come to the conclusion that the reason that I may be so obsessed with the whole wedding planning thing (and perhaps, why many brides are) is that it delays my fears about marriage. Which are plentiful. Not being married to Scott, per se, just being married in general...

[Sidenote: In order to "study", I've been reading a lot of chick lit recently that focuses on chicks getting married. Frankly, it's been a little upsetting. I have belatedly realized that I could have gotten a pretty nifty little book out this thing and that just never even occurred to me. I've been too busy putting things off til the last minute to write a book. That would have been one more thing I HAD to take care of, so it's just as well I never started.]

But, marriage is a big thing. Many think that it's not as big of a deal to me because I have been there, done that. I have tried to present this image. Frankly, that is just a front. (Yes, here on the internet in front of the WHOLE world -- all two of you reading -- I am admitting to "fronting".) Sure, been there, done that with the wrong person, wrong time, wrong STATE, etc etc. I'd like to take a Mulligan on that one, can I do that?? This is the real thing. I am a grown up person (they tell me) and this is a grown up decision. I could potentially have children of my own to boss around and screw up one day. That's the Big Show, man.

I don't want to screw it up. I'm prone to screwing things up. What if it doesn't work out? What if I age weird and he goes out for smokes and doesn't come back? What if he does? What if we get on each other's nerves? <--- This is what I'm really afraid of. He doesn't have nerves as good as mine and I'm good at getting on peoples nerves. What if my nerves aren't as good as I think they are? What if he never ever takes the trash out ever? Do I have to start cooking? Is there going to be a place for dusting in my life?

What if I become domesticated?

I have very negative feelings about this. I HAVE been there, done that and I didn't like it. I was unattractive and had bad curly hair and went to craft shows a lot. It's not a good look for me kids and I'm not making this stuff up. I associate domestication with the death of the fun side of my personality. And I'm fun, damn it. I know that I have fun when I'm with me. Well, I have fun when I'm with me and I have an audience. But what if he doesn't want to be an audience all the time?

See. This is how the crazy gets on me and it's like lint on a black shirt under a black light -- bad bad stuff! So, in order not to think about that stuff, I just start concentrating on things like flowers and jewelry and gifts for attendants and hotel reservations. Details are what calm me...

Some of my friends who are not as close to me don't always return my calls right away or ever. I think it's because I say it's Bridezilla calling. I'm just trying to keep it real. The only thing worse than being Bridezilla is being one and not even knowing it.

Anyways, I have to go scour ebay for tiaras now -- the details are calling me. And yes, I said tiaras. When the fuck else am I going to have a legitimate reason to wear a tiara and not have people think it's weird??

-H

Quote of the Day

Television's perfect. You turn a few knobs, a few of those mechanical
adjustments at which the higher apes are so proficient, and lean back
and drain your mind of all thought. And there you are watching the bubbles
in the primeval ooze. You don't have to concentrate. You don't have to
react. You don't have to remember. You don't miss your brain because you don't
need it. Your heart and liver and lungs continue to function normally.
Apart from that, all is peace and quiet. You are in the man's nirvana.
And if some poor nasty minded person comes along and says you look like a
fly on a can of garbage, pay him no mind. He probably hasn't got the price
of a television set. -Raymond Thornton Chandler, writer (1888-1959)


Every time I watch too much tv (ie -- most of my life), I have this exact feeling. "Watching the bubbles in the primeval ooze." Sad, isn't it?