Thursday, March 30, 2006

Things to do in Greenville when you're an insommniac.

Do you remeber that episode of Home Movies where Coach McGuirk can't sleep and he goes to the sleep lab and then realizes they can pay him for research? Remember how he looked sitting on the bleachers holding a soccer ball and drooling? Well I couldn't find a picture of that, so here's one of him in the sleep lab. That's how I feel. I'm starting to think I should have named this the Insommniac Bride Blog. But what's done is done. So if you ever can't sleep here are a few things to do.

Play Animal Crossing. Dig up all the fossils and talk to Blathers while he's awake. Then shake all the non-fruit trees until you've found both pieces of furniture and many bags of bells. After that collect all the damn pitfall seeds that you've dug up and left lying around and put them in the recycle bin. Or bury them in a large open area to create a mine field of pitfalls. You probably got stung by bees while shaking trees and have a grody swollen eye. Use this to scare your neighbors that are still awake. Water flowers that are dying. Check the beach for any seashells that are worth money. Put any stray clothes, wigs, hats etc. into your storage unit in your house. Rearrange your gyroids. When that gets boring, save your game and send your little person to bed knowing they are full of bells, fossils and furniture to hock first thing in the morning.

Watch the 2 a.m. repeat of Adult Swim. Futurama, Harvey Birdman, and Family Guy. Then get pissed that The Boondocks will replace Harvey Birdman the following night. Stupid fucking Boondocks. It's not weird or funny. How about some Tom Goes to the Mayor up in here? Or Squidbillies? And where are my DVDs of those shows? Jerkwads.

Realize not sleeping makes you a wee bit cranky.

Clean out your wedding folder so it no longer weighs a metric ton. Take out the invitation catalogs that you have already ordered samples from. Take out the David's Bridal book since you've ordered your gown. Take out the Make a Match thing since they don't have them in Victorian Lilac.

Make a wedding to do list, listing everything from hiring a cake person to buying a little envelope wetter thing so you don't die licking envelopes like George Costanza's fiance.

Play Hexic HD on your fiance's engagement XBox for 38 minutes, achieving over 25,000 points and getting to level 5.

Watch neutered episodes of Daria on the N and get pissed off that they would show someone getting anally gang raped on Degrassi, but cut Daria until the jokes don't make sense. Get pissed off that Daria is not DVD. Fucktards.

If fiance is awake and trying to beat the first Kingdom Hearts because the second Kingdom Hearts comes out the next day and he wants to finish one before starting another, ride to the 24 hour Krispy Kreme near campus and get doughnuts and coffee. Decaf though. Maybe, like a baby, the warm liquid will put you to sleep.

Watch My So-Called Life on the N and fume about how they have managed not to put this part of your teenaged years through the shredder. Then ponder how Claire Danes has done essentially nothing with her acting career, and wonder when the immense good will from this one season show will run dry.

Through out all this periodically return to bed to try and sleep. Get back up after 15-45 minutes in half-way accordance with the sleep hygiene rules your psych doctor gave you.

Finally go to sleep at 6:30 in the morning. Have a disturbing dream about being a ho in a house with Flava Flav and winding up with Chlamydia from sharing towels. Then sleep through your alarm waking at 10:00, when you are supposed to be at work. Call in late to your very nice, wonderful, understanding boss.

Drive to work trying to explain to your body that while you understand that it will get what it needs sleep wise, consistantly being late will result in you getting fired and not being able to give your body things like food, shelter and clothes.

Realize this will make a mildly amusing blog post and hope you can find a picture of sleep deprived Coach McGuirk.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

And then my teeth fell out. Peggy, you were there.

Well, last night it finally happened. I had my first wedding related nightmare. It was so little and helpless, crinkly, but cute. Aren't you a cute manifestation of anxiety? Yes you are! Yes you are!

Anyway, normally I would chalk it up to the Ambien, but that usually knocks me out enough that I don't have normal dreams, much less wacky ones. All I can figure is that i'm a wee bit stressed. I've been too tired the past few afternoons to call a myriad of florists for a consultation and i'm so freaked out by handing over cake stuff to a stranger that it had it's own part in my dream. Tomorrow I have to do at least one of those things.

Anyway, on to the dream.

It was a little disjointed, without a solid plot or timeline, so this is going to be flaky.

It began the day before the wedding. I was talking over stuff with my coordinator at the reception site which had gone from a lovely ballroom to my elementary school gym. (Yes, we are plumbing the depths of the subconscious here.) It was a few months before our set wedding date, so i'm not sure why we were getting married, (I saw myself from the front and didn't look knocked up), but we were. The decorations looked awful, Josh didn't have a tux, the cake wasn't ordered, I had no idea about flowers and we didn't have our marriage license. Truly a wedding from Hell.

So I tell my coordinator that the cake is very important. I told her I didn't care too much what the end result was, as long as it was white, three tiered stacked. Cut to the next day.

Josh and I enter the elementary school gym (which they actually called the multi-purpose room and used as the lunch room) and it looks like something that would have shot out of a Barbie fire extenguisher. Ruffles and pink and swags and white lattice everywhere. There were tons of flowers but they were all different and looked like someone just grabbed what they could find and put it together. However my purple hand-tied hydrangea bouquets made an appearance. Hung like a garland across the ceiling!

As we entered the multi-purpose room I looked over my shoulder and saw the cake. It was bright pink, had one large round layer on the bottom and another large round layer on a pole in the center. It was covered in little flowers and swags and ribbons. The overall effect was one of a pink carousel without horses. I destinctly remember in my dream thinking that not only was it ugly, but it wasn't going to feed everyone!

So that was it. My very first wedding related nightmare. I'm sure there are many more to come. But at least this one was half-way funny with all the Barbie inspired decor and unexplained rush to marry. Operative term being half-way.

Friday, March 24, 2006

One more before I leave.

This is intensely weird.

I just love how they have three different veiws of the thing but don't show us the veiw from the back. Because there is nothing sexual, shameful or dirty about a vagina when a baby is coming out of it. Right? Right? Perverts.

They've negated their own message with that shit. If it were really about the beauty of giving new life they wouldn't be too chicken-shit to actually show it.

Yeah, i'm on a soapbox today. No this isn't wedding related. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?

If only I didn't already have a pair of shoes...

Looks like it's going to be a few short posts today rather than a long one. I promise I will tell you all about dress shopping this weekend. Until then...

I love these shoes!!! I first saw them in Martha Stewart Weddings and thought "Those are my shoes!". Yeah, if I sat on the toilet and pooped gold.

$255? Gee whiz, I know they're only paying the six year-olds who are making the things 12 cents an hour, so what's the deal? I guess because they're Kate Spades. (Eyeroll.) I love a good Nine West purse, but I buy them at Ross. Paying that much for designer things just doesn't compute with me. I guess that's why i'm the only bride on earth who shows up for appointments and consultations with a Happy Bunny tote bag that says "I hate everything".

But I guess that's what makes me, me!

This guy's not a sissy, he's a fruit!

A small smattering of my personal beliefs here this morning.

As you probably guessed, anyone nuts enough to blog about her wedding instead of drive her friends and co-workers nuts talking about it for a year must really be into weddings. And I am. I love wedding dresses, wedding cakes, bouquets, you name it. And i'm not hating on people who elope and their weddings. If that's how you want it more power to you. Weddings aren't special becuase of all the show and food and money. They're special because somewhere between "Do you take this man..." and "You may kiss the bride." two people become spirtually and legally one. That's magical. And I just don't see why homosexuals can't have their own piece of that. But I can see why polygamists shouldn't.

Marriage is about your commitment to one person beyond all others. Not about gathering yourself a harem to control, or saving up wives like Chuck E. Cheese tickets to get into heaven. This whole "If you legalize one you have to legalize the other" argument is bullshit. This article chalks it up to jealousy, which is true. It's human nature to expect monogamy. And I don't believe for a minute that these women aren't sad or jealous when they hear their husband and their sister wife having sex.

Gay marriage and polygamy are not different sides of the same coin. That some would co-opt a repressed group's struggle for equality under the law and social validation and use it to justify legalizing a practice that is ecclesiatically dubious and historically riddled with incest and other forms of abuse is an affront to all that is wonderful and valuble about marriage.

Brandi sleep now.....

I wish. Another rough night. I'll post about the dress excursion later this morning. Right now i'm waiting for the Krispy Kreme doughnuts and coffee to kick in. Yes I said doughnuts. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Damn it to the bowels of pus-spewing, blood-gutted hell!

Well folks, apparently it won't just be my Aunt Gloria coming to David's Bridal with me. Please welcome my Aunt Flo. Of all the fucking days. No wonder my headache is still kicking. Watch me bleed all over a dress I hate and have to buy it. And I had to walk over to the student store and pay $3 for eight tampons when I have plenty at home. A box of 20 I paid $2 for at Walgreens. Fucking period.

When does the fun start?

Today is the day I try on dresses. And I am so freaking anxious i've had to take part of a klonopin.

I didn't sleep well last night, I woke up with a headache, and dear old aunt flo is on her way so I'm generally feeling crappy. And all this makes me feel shitty about myself.

I never wanted to be That Bride. You know the one. She's taking a Xanex to get through her meeting with the caterer. She's yelling at her fiance over cake flavors. She's crying with her mom at the florist. Granted I have yet to engage in such hysterics, and please slap me if I do, but i'm not feeling as happy as I should right now.

Which is rediculous. Feelings are never wrong. Bottom line. You feel what you feel and that is always ok. As long as those feelings don't translate into rude, bratty behavior you are ok. And they haven't. I have been nice, polite and business like to everyone I have dealt with so far. And I guess that's why the fun hasn't yet started. It's been like a business deal on crunch time. I had to book a reception site immediately. I had to find a photographer post haste. I have to get my dress ordered. Save the dates need to be ordered and sent out. It's a lot to do in a short amount of time.

But i'm getting it done. And hopefully the ride will slow down soon and i'll have time to try on lots of shoes, and play with my hair and just enjoy this time. Until then I have this blog to spew on, and many, many TV shows on DVD. And my good pals Breyers and Klonopin. And my real freinds. It's going to be ok. It's going to get fun soon. It's going to end with me being married to Josh. Ahhhh.... Calm returns.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

I'm not materialistic, I just really love my engagement ring!

It's a cold, rainy, pissy day here in G-Vegas. I am once again suffering from an Ambien hangover, and yet have found that a cup of coffee makes me very jittery and in need of Klonopin. So i'm going to stay awake by doing the one thing I have energy for: Gushing about my engagement ring!

I have only spent the last two years looking at and dreaming about The Ring. Yes, only two years. I knew before then that Josh and I would be getting married, but the 30 year mortgage with me kinda clenched my suspicions. Around that time I began hanging out on A Diamond is, looking at jewelry stores, and putting rings on my Amazon wish list each Christmas as a joke. I made a few decisions right off. I wanted an oval shape, I wanted a prog setting, and I wanted yellow gold.

I'm not sure what drew me to the oval shape, but I couldn't imagine a different one. I've never like the marquis, and everyone seems to have a round or a princess. I'm not completely hung up on being different for the sake of being different like some people, but his time I did want something different. The oval was sparkly, an elegant shape, but still simple.

I wanted a plain prong or tiffany setting because they are simple and hold the stone up to catch light. My only complaint was that so many settings were six prongs and I wanted four. I know that six prongs would be more secure, but the prong at the top and bottom of the stone messed up the graceful curve I loved about the oval shape. Yes I know i'm being fussy. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?

I wanted yellow gold becuase in my mind that is the color of wedding sets. Now Josh wants a titanium band, and that's fine. It's his wedding band to wear for the next 60 years so I want him to be happy. I also want it to be lightweight enough for him to wear it. But for me I want plain yellow gold. Platnium is pretty in pictures, i'll give you that. But I don't like it more when side by side with a ring in yellow gold. Also, platnium is so freaking expensive that we would have had to settle for white gold, and i've seen white gold after a few years. It's not pretty.

Finally I wanted Josh to spend his money on something that was better rather than bigger. I wanted a ring that was sparkly and white and small rather than dull, yellow and big.

I got my wishes. All of them, in spades.

My ring is perfect. We went to a few stores in the mall, but none of them had an oval. The next day we decided to look at Bailey's. Bailey's is small, family owned and pretty darn upscale. I didn't expect to be able to afford a ring from Bailey's, but it wouldn't hurt to look.

They had several ovals on the floor, but most of them were in elaborate settings. There was one solitare, a half carat one. I tried it on and liked it, but asked out of curiousity if he had one a little bit bigger. He went into the back and came out with a loose diamond. I had told him our budget, and I could see the price tag on the back of the card. $800 over our limit. Oh monkey trumpets.

He pulled out a calculator and did a little math and came off the price of the diamond $760. Josh said that was cool. Our salesman, i'll call him Mr. R. told us about the diamond. It was a .86 carat, VS2 clarity, and an H color wise. He said the cut is and "elexis" cut which are very well cut and very sparkly. This would be categorized as a premium cut. After months on Blue Nile I new this was a great diamond and a great price. He put it into a few settings that I tried on. He told us that the setting was included in the price and that it could probablly be set that day. He even had a gold, thin band, four prong setting. He understood my reasons for not wanting a prong on the ends of the oval. He was very nice, and very low pressure. We had been to a few stores before browsing and the staff decided that we were buying a ring that day. What sealed the deal was when he put this diamond next to the previous one I had tried on. It was no where near as sparkly, and noticably more yellow.

My ring was set that day a mere two hours later. Everyone in the store wanted to see it. They all loved it and said how pretty it was. And they all said it was the whitest H grade they had ever seen. Josh put it on my finger and I haven't wanted to take it off since. Of course I have to. I have nightmares of loosing it down a drain or sewer grate, or the cats taking off with it. At night it goes back in the box on my nightstand. I roll over in the morning and put it on. After my shower at night I put it back on as I hang around the house in my bathrobe.

When i'm out in the sunlight it sparkles and sets off prisms. When i'm driving it reflects light on the interior of my car like a disco ball on my finger. Even in the dark it catches the light from street lights and sparkles like mad. I can see why the Romans thought that diamonds were splintered peices of stars.

And I know that a material thing shouldn't make me feel so special, or loved. But it does. I have a tangible symbol of Josh's commitment to me. I feel like i'm in a secret club where your ring is your membership card. Everyone knows what this ring means. It means that i'm getting married to a wonderful man. That in a few months all my cards in my wallet will be new. That soon i'll have a big album of pictures and a poofy dress in my closet. That I will be loved, honored and cherished until death do us part. And that I will do the same for him. And materialistic or not, that is really fucking cool.

Monday, March 20, 2006

Damn Subconscious!

Something inside me doesn't want to fit into a wedding dress. In the past few days I have been on a junk food bender that would put human Bender to shame. And I feel terrible. Not only do I fear ordering a dress that I may be to big to wear, but deep down I know when I put on the dress it all becomes very real. (I know, a $1000 non-refundable, non-transferable deposit on our reception site should be damn real.) And i'm not having doubts. I'm not feeling like i'm rushing into anything. I just don't think it's hit me yet that I am really engaged, and that means i'm really getting married in seven months. It still feels like i'm having "When we get married..." hypothetical converstions instead of true planning.

But I am looking forward to dress shopping. Yesterday I told Josh that I was going to go to another bridal store where I have no intentions of buying a dress and just try on dress after dress. When else will I be able to do that? And my mom and maybe my aunt will be down to go to David's with me! I have such a blast with my Mom. And as I told Josh last night, this is the consumate mother/daughter experience. This is one of those things I've looked forward to for my whole life and has kept me from just eloping already. So i'm getting excited. But part of excitment is nerves, and that's what sends me into the creamy arms of my good freind Breyers. Of course, I suppose i'm home free until after Wednesday. Until then I don't have to worry about maintaining a weight. Why stress over fitting into a dress I haven't ordered yet?

Yeah...that's the ticket...

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Fuck this shit!

I could blog about five different wedding related things right now, but this just came to mind and i'm putting it on record now.

I'm getting Differin gel for the wedding.

End of story. I was on it a few years ago and my skin cleared up very well. Then after I went off it since I couldn't keep seeing my dermatologist, I got on birth control and that helped too, but not as much.

So tonight i'm sitting here reading another person's blog about her fertility treatments and eventual baby (link posted later) and my chin starts itching. I have a red, swollen bump where I used to have a zit. I've had this bump for like a fucking month. No. Longer than that.

It started two months ago. I spent two weeks putting Clinique's Spot Healing Gel on it, but it would not die! It was itching like this so I went to bathroom and looked closely.

Gross stuff follows.

It had a little blackhead in the middle. So I grabbed my acne loop and pressed down, and this huge blackhead and crap popped out! It was so gross! How did I miss that? I so wanted a microscope to look at it. (Hey, this is the GEEK bride's blog.)

Anyway, now it's fucking flaring up again, my pores are clogged, I have zit where Cindy Crawford has a beauty mark, and even Clinique can't save me now.

Our photography will cost more than our reception. Fuck this shit. Give me the good stuff.

I'm not going to feel shitty about myself on my wedding day. I'm not going to fret over my makeup when I should be happy and in love and eating and dancing. I want no distractions.

Next week I shall call the man.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

The Fuck?

Do brides say fuck? I don't think they do. I know they don't sit at their desk eating Hot Fries and Skittles, drinking regular Pepsi the week before they go dress shopping. But most brides don't get engaged spur of the moment at their parents house and immediately begin planning for a wedding in seven months. But what the hell. I have too much to do to worry about loosing weight, and my betrothed and I have been together for four years so let's move this the fuck along! There's that word again.

Well, I say that word a lot. And i'm sure I will be using it a lot in the near future. Because i'm really and truely, honest to God, 4 realz getting married! The fuck? I can't beleive it's real! I'm so freakin' excited. And maybe that's why I'm laboring here under the delusion that anyone else gives a fuck. So stay tuned for posts from my own private bridal hell. Or heaven. It's all good.