No thanks, I eat

gift bagMy mom and I went to a couple bridal shops, to peruse wedding gown styles. In one particular shop, I was handed a gift bag with a pretty bow and “Congratulations!” tag. I said my thanks and we went about our business…which I’ll fill you in on later.

SMILEY FACE SMILEY FACE SMILEY FACE.

When I got home, I opened the gift bag and saw coupons for a bunch of places, a travel sized deodorant, a package of tissues, and two Slimful bars that promise to “satisfy hunger for hours”…so you don’t eat anything else. Like, you know. REAL FOOD.

So, are they saying I’m not supposed to eat real food on the day of my wedding?

I would die. Or,  more realistically…faint. Continue reading

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‘No, no…I won’t be wearing a garter…’

I love a lot of things about weddings…and I dislove a lot, too. Even though there are things I personally don’t love about some weddings, and wouldn’t want them in mine, I really couldn’t care less what people choose to do. I just wanna put that out there.

Besides, I think everyone has their own likes/dislikes when it comes to weddings…and bridal showers. And baby showers. Do not even get me started on what I don’t like about the two BS’s.

DISLOVE…

Why in the world would a bride bring her fiance to help pick out her wedding gown? I see this a lot on Say Yes to the Dress. Superstition aside, the element of surprise is gone. By the same token, I need to rant for a sec:

Where did the whole “I wanna feel like a princess on my wedding day” thing come from? You’re not a princess on that day…you’re a bride. Did this come about because in every fairy tale, the fair maiden’s problems are suddenly over (an evil stepmother, a comatose state, having a tail instead of legs, being held captive by a hairy beast) once they take that walk down the aisle? They’re not if you’re marrying the hairy beast, just so ya know.

I hate the whole bouquet/garter thing. I really do. Especially the garter part. You can’t be a princess and have everyone watch your husband go head-first up your dress. Sorry. Also, whoever catches the garter has to put it on the thigh of the woman who catches the bouquet. At a small wedding…the chances of those two people being related is very high. Cue the dueling banjos.

When the newlyweds are announced, I much prefer them walking in graciously excited as opposed to acting as though they just completed a marathon — pumping their fists and slapping everyone high-five. Also, I cringe when a song by Usher or someone similar is played during this time.

Continue reading

What the (expletive)?

The title of this post says it all. So, let’s jump right in.

Why are all the Toddlers and Tiaras moms incredibly unkempt? You’d think they’d be a little bit more obsessed with — or at least concerned with — their own looks. Most of them look as though they just rolled ousirit of  bed and perhaps haven’t showered in a day or two.

Siri. She has always annoyed me, and I know it might sound crazy, but I don’t think she likes me. I can hear it in her tone. And lately — she’s been getting me lost. I asked her to find me a PetSmart and she brought me to the middle of a residential development. I asked her to find me a Marshalls and she told me that I arrived at my destination while I was still in the middle of the highway. I think she’s doing it on purpose and I hate her.

Things — in general — are slower here in IL than in NY. Speed limits, restaurant service and even just how people talk. Slower. Continue reading

Drunk moms, bridal mags and annoying twins

It’s Friday! But, you probably already knew that if you signed on to Facebook this morning. Everyone gebridalts “TGIF!” post-happy when Friday rolls around.

I have a bunch of things I’d like to throw at you today, because none of these topics are things I can think about in-depth enough to devote a whole post to them. So, grab your coffee and let’s chat.

Last night, I opened my first bridal magazine. And, it’s pretty (very) exciting for me. I swear I heard angels singing when I turned the cover. Gowns, rings, honeymoons, invitations, flowers, oh my! And, it’s heavy. I may take it to the pool today. It probably will need its own pool pass, though. And flotation device. Continue reading

Don’t date me yet

1219-engaged-woman-with-friends_weThe big move to Chi-city (I will never, ever call it that without being somewhat joking/impersonating a rapper) and getting engaged have often been news I’ve shared at the same time. So, it usually went like this:

Me: “We got engaged!”

Them:    🙂

Me: “…and we’re moving to Chicago!”

Them:   😦 but  🙂 … but  :(. Did you set a wedding date, yet? 🙂

And, to be honest, I’d feel a bit deflated — like they were saying, “OK I’m over your engagement news, so happy for ya, blah blah, nice ring, yep, blah…IT’S NOT REAL UNMoving-boxes2.7445211_stdLESS YOU HAVE A WEDDING DATE.”

And, my smile would either fade or just stay plastered on my face while my head would just shake “no”, because…we’re moving to Chicago. I guess I just also have packing, the drive out there, the new place and new area, the new job, decorating the new place, Moxie’s acclimation to the new place, finding new doctors, etc. etc. on my mind. I mean, I think it makes sense to actually get there and get settled before thinking about a wedding, no? Maybe I’m wrong, because when I’ve explained that to a couple people (women), they would just smile blankly, nod and shrug without saying a word. Continue reading

No hyphen here

The number of women taking their husband’s last name is on the rise.

I love my last name. I really do. I mean, I’ve had it for 31 years. And, when you’ve had something that long, it can be hard to let it go.

However.hypen

It has never been a question for me if I would take my husband’s name. I guess I’m traditional like that. After all, I spent many years as a little girl scribbling things like “Amanda McIntyre“, not “Amanda Talar-McIntyre” in my school notebooks.

While I personally don’t get why women would want to keep their maiden name, I really don’t get why they hyphenate. Maybe it’s a control thing, a feminism thing? I don’t know. Both of those reasons are kind of nauseating to me.

The author of this postformer Olympic snowboarder Betsy Shaw — says, amongst other reasons (admitting maybe she just can’t ‘grow up’), that she didn’t take her husband’s name because she “never liked the way women seemed to disappear into their husband’s name”, which sort of validates my assumption of this “type” of woman.

I’ll be blunt. Continue reading