5 posts tagged “bride”
Show us a picture that's worth a thousand words.
Submitted by sami711.
Although I'm not quite sure I understand what a 'kissing chair' is.
I'm quite happy with just a couch, or a recliner. The bed, also, works quite well for the kissing.
But, here we are, just moments after gettin' hitched.
And here I am explaining and rambling when it's supposed to be 'worth a thousand words'...
Without trying to be funny, or wise, or entertaining, I'm just going to write honestly.
Yesterday, a tiny, but calming miracle occurred in my life.
(I say miracle, because I'm so cynical, anything good happening to me I feel is a fucking miracle.)
The last year of for me has been a whirlwind. I cannot believe it's October. The mist on the river gets thicker with each morning, and it startled me when I saw the low today would be 9 degrees Celsius.
I think back to where I was a year ago:
Single. Finally coming out of my 20 year long "on and off" battle with a depression I wasn't truly aware of, or allowed myself to have. I had just broken up with my boyfriend of 2 years that I thought I would one day marry...Only to realize he was a complete, and utter, spineless bastard.
I woke up every morning while it was still dark, to make the world their non-fat, decaf, no foam, Lattes as a barista for Starbucks.
On my days off I would go to Target and Barnes and Noble, then go sit at Starbucks with my friends and drink tea and smoke.
It wasn't a bad life. I made good money. I had a roof over my head and black and white Chihuahua. My family loved me then as much as they do now.
It was a simple existence of ordinary substance, and it was never expected of me to do more.
Well, I expected more. A lot more.
I knew my place in this world was not behind an espresso machine and an apron. It was not behind the smile I was paid to wear. My life was not the Marlboro lights that eased the stress, or in a city that was never awake.
I needed to get out. But I hadn't the faintest clue where I was meant to be. But even worse, I didn't think I was brave enough to jump at the chance if it were to ever rear it's pretty head.
And, well, a year later....
In a story I will tell another day (that's stored in many different files on my laptop) I fell in love with a man across the world.
And just like the grossest fairy tales that I never believed in but always longed would happen to me...
I left behind my apron, the toilets I cleaned, the coffees I brewed, and the ones that loved me the most..
And went to live in Kingdom, with a man that took my breath away with laughter and love, and a perpetual understanding of who I was.
The funny part is, in fairy tales, everything ends once the Prince and Princess go off in their carriage (or a Bowing 747) together towards their new life.
But I doubt Cinderella ever had to apply for a Visa, or couldn't work legally for 6-9 months because of immigration laws.
Yesterday, once again, I was crying in Starbucks.
Only this time it wasn't because I wanted to kill my boss, it was because I was petrified that I wouldn't be able to schedule an appointment with the British Consulate in Los Angeles, and that then I wouldn't be able to get my Visa, and that I would have to be separated from Iain for a long time and get stuck making fucking Cappuccinos for the rest of my god forsaken life.
I've been so stressed out about going back home.
Not because I don't want to see my family, or because I'm not looking forward to being back in California with thousands of Taco Bells....
But because I'm really going back because my 6 months here is up, and I'm applying for my Fiancee Visa. It's nerve racking. It's tiring. It's fucking scary that I don't have control over my future, and that basically, it's up to a government official to say, "Yes, your life is going to kick ass" or "Sorry, you can't go back to the UK. Shall I escort you to the Mental Institution now, or later?".
I sat there sobbing to Iain (over a tall, soy, no-water, chai) about everything.
I went home, stared blankly at emails from friends, and episodes of Sex and the City while the rain came pouring down over London.
About 5:30pm, I checked the Consulate's website again to see if any appointments were available for the date I was planning on going down. (Considering I've been checking for 5 months straight, and NOTHING yet!)
Then, finally, October the 27th had opened up. I nearly screamed. I quickly filled out my information, and got the appointment!!!!! I felt the weight of a 1000 worries being lifted off my shoulders...
It's like when you get a job interview, all you need is the opportunity to talk to someone, and you just KNOW you'll get the job!
Now we can plan the rest of our trip, and not have to worry, and can BREATHE, because we know there's not a legitimate reason why my application will be denied.
And as I filled out the last bits of information, I looked out my window to see this.
I smiled, and knew it was a sign. I quickly got up to take a photo of it, and sat back down to submit my information.
By the time I got my confirmation of my appointment, and looked back out my window, and it was gone.
Just like my fears.
Single.
I've written before about my frustrations with the "single world", and why so many women turn into complete fucking idiots when they're dating.
It breaks my heart when I talk/email women I know who just can't wrap their minds around why they are so unhappy and "so confused!".
But what ignites my rage is when these women KNOW that they're with the wrong guy and can see the red flags beating them over the head and yet still sigh, and say,
"Well, I think it's worth it to keep trying."
or
"I just can't break up with him."
I cringe, cringe, CRINGE when I walk through the "Popular Psychology" section at Waterstones and see all the "But I Just Want to get Married!!!" books.
Today, I was planning on having a good laugh when I saw a link to watch a video about a book called How To Avoid Marrying A Jerk.
I watched the video and aside from the goober host who's trying to strangle her audience with enthusiasm and
'charm'...it's really interesting.
I went on to Dr. John Van Epp's website (the author) and couldn't believe what a fucking smart guy he is.
I even read through the excerpt of the book, and was blown away by HOW MUCH SENSE he makes.
I was really expecting him to be a douche bag and make me so angry I'd throw my laptop out the window, but he IS SO RIGHT.
He talks about WHAT defines a jerk, and how to identify the traits of a Jerk, and -like most psychology books- gives real life examples from his patients' relationships.
While I was reading, I just kept nodding and going, "Yes...Uh-huh....Yup. Yup. THANK YOU!"
I hope that every single woman who is rushing to get married stops herself, puts down that Modern Bride magazine (stops crying) and picks up this book, instead.
If I had read this a few years back, I would have been the smartest, most relationship savvy 18 year old in all the land.
I want to hug this man and feed him cake.
Juuuuust wondering, but....
Why is it that a lot of women see getting married, or finding a husband as the end goal?
Or for that matter...Any type of GOAL?
We date, and date, and cry, then complain about how hard it is to find a man. We blog about it, we swear off men...And then we date, and date, and cry, and date, and then we meet someone and think we're happy! But then we end up crying, toss back a few thousand Cosmopolitans, and then date some more...With a vengeance.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
Get a clue. Stop LOOKING!
If you don't hit it off with a guy...GO HOME!
Don't sleep with him a couple hundred times trying to see if, "Something might happen."
If you don't like something about a guy's appearance...You're NEVER going to get over it!
Trust me. Waking up to that crooked tooth you can't stand EVERY. SINGLE. MORNING will grow very old. Very, very fast.
If the sex is bad...It will more than likely NEVER be good.
If you're constantly saying to yourself,
"This is just a rough patch, once he stops......
*Talking to his Ex
*Gets a job
*Gets that promotion
*Loses weight
*Moves out and gets his own place
*Stops shagging his coworker
THINGS WILL GET BETTER."
Ladies...THINGS WILL NEVER, EVER, EVER GET BETTER!
Sure, everyone has their ups and downs. Their bad days. The "bad fight". And sometimes the sex will be off.
But if you are in a constant state of "It'll get better after this..." run for the hills, cut your losses, get a therapist, and call it a fucking day.
I have so much to say on this topic that I would probably end up taking over all of VOX with this single blog...
But what sparked my rage was this blog*. The author (A 43 year old woman, who has a mother fucking MASTERS DEGREE) claims that she can help you set up a plan to find a husband in 12-18 months.
I'm sorry...
But, what the fuck?
I get this frightening image of women sitting around with their PDA's going,
"Well, if I start on this plan now, that means I'll have met my soul mate by about October 2007, so I should probably start talking to a wedding planner tonight, and see if I can book a venue ASAP! OMG! I have to call my MOM!!!!...[frightening, inaudible, wedding induced mumbled jibberish]"
Now we have to have a STRATEGY and a PLAN to meet someone.
Good call! Perfect sense!
I must have just been a fluke.
Christ, maybe I should trade my fiance in, and hope for the right one that should be coming my way in 12-18 months. Do they FedEx him to you?
And apparently I'm also supposed to be thin, not fat, pretty, not plain and tape this AFFIRMATION** to my refrigerator
"* I want more than anything to be in love with and married to a Good Man within twelve to eighteen months.
* I care more about love and marriage to a Good Man than I do about food.
to help me stay fit, and thin.
How have I ever functioned without this woman!
Excuse me, but I'm off to go "make [my] Good Man feel good as a man is by giving him full credit for all [my] orgasms, and do so sincerely and with enthusiasm" just like my new guru says.
....Serioulsy.
*Honestly,Read a few of her posts, you will cry from laughter...Or throw up all over the place.
**Positive Affirmations make me want to throw myself off a building. Just FYI
I hate girls.
Every single girl in the world, in Japanese, Cantonese, and mother fucking English has said this... Said this with passion and conviction.
But Ladies, today, I OWN this phrase.
And let me go on to be more specific: I hate most of the girls in my life.
I don't hate the girls in bars that look me and my fiance up and down. I don't hate the random girl that tried to trip me as she walked past me on the street. I don't even hate the rude girl at Starbucks who can't get my fucking drink right.
Today, I am hating the girls that are IN my life, without participating in it.
The girls that cried when I left California, and can't even write me a fucking email.
The girls that use me for advice, and come crawling to me when they don't know what to do.
The girls that kiss my ass when they want me to tell them what to do with their life, and then ignore me and my good fortune when the sun shines for them.
One of my "advice seeking" friends called me an asshole because I didn't tell her right away that I was engaged.
Then there are the female relatives in my life that view me as nothing less than a fuck-up.
My Uncle's Wife can't seem to handle the fact that I quit college. In fact, she can't seem to handle anything I do, simply because it scares the shit out of her that someone could be successful WITHOUT having to go down the "correct path" that she went down. It's like, your condescending attitude and blatant disapproval of my choices doesn't make you a loving, concerned family member. It makes you a judgmental, yuppie, bitch.
It seems to me that women can only be happy for other woman if their joy somehow includes them.
There are some women who couldn't even be happy for me because they were too concerned that they weren't "invited".
We're fucking ELOPING pretty much, and having a big ass party later in the year. It's what I want. THAT is my "dream" wedding. Can you swallow your own issues for 2 seconds to even say, "I'm happy for you"?
My friends and family would be sending me all their blessings, and congratulatory praise, if "my special day" were involving them. They would be happy if my wedding, were the wedding THEY wanted me to have.
And then there are the friends that decided just to call me an asshole, or to simply not respond.
The unfortunate thing, is that I could understand if I were a shitty friend who cut them out of my life when I moved, and then only wrote them to let them know that I was engaged because I wanted attention.
But these are people that I have put a lot of time and energy into our friendship, especially since I moved, and I get jack shit in return.
I don't want a fucking bachelorette party. I'm not looking for gifts, or money, or even attention. I don't want
any of the traditional bullshit because I think it exactly that...BULLSHIT.
I would just like a genuine response. "I'm so happy for you." or "You two are going to be so happy together..."
Since when did the wedding details, and guest list become more important then the actual MARRIAGE?
....Aside from all of my false friendships, and inconsiderate reactions...
I just wanted to say a big thank you to Lizinator.
Although we're not like BFF, and quite often go about our own lives, and randomly check in with one another...I genuinely appreciate your efforts at keeping in touch with me, and for expressing your genuine happiness for me.
And for calling me BRAVE.
I appreciate that more than words can say.
