Tuesday, May 4, 2010

The One With Passive-Aggression and Crazy Brides

I'd like to start out with one of those really, really passive-aggressive things that I hate when people do, because I'm naturally nosy and want to know what they're talking about, but I'm going to do it anyway.

For the person who is taking my (locked) Twitter updates and passing them along to person or persons who are part of the REASON they're locked updates, I've figured out who you are. I'm not going to call you out specifically, but I want you to know that you really need better things to do with your life than try to cause drama. I know you live in a small town, and there's not a lot to do, but I suggest you find a hobby, rather than trying to get into something that, quite frankly, has nothing to do with you. I'd also like to thank you for keeping my updates in check. God forbid I say anything too personal, or say anything about wedding plans, because I know that you're going to run straight to the person or persons in question and talk about it/me/etc. So, have fun continuing to think you're getting one up on me. But let me tell you: I don't put anything out there that I expect to be super-secret or anything like that. It's just a shame that you're trying to put a damper on my fun. That just tells me you need more fun of your own.

That being said? Let's continue.

It's been over a month since last time, and life has continued rolling on. I'm working two jobs now, and as a result, I suspect I'm beginning to feel. . .if not my own age, then someone else's much older than me. I've legitimately become one of those people that looks at the clock at about 9:30 p.m. and wonders if it's too early to go to bed. (Answer: Generally, yes. But sometimes no.)

I'm especially sore from this last weekend, because D and I pretended like we're outdoorsy people and DID things. (Well, OK. I pretended like I'm an outdoorsy person, and D just continued being as such.) We went to try out a place for wedding cakes Saturday (There's something for you, Gatherer of Information. Go run and tell people we looked at cake!), and, in addition, I got some new shoes for work, and. . .wow. It's Tuesday, and for the life of me, I can't remember what I did for the rest of Saturday. That's. . .sad, isn't it?

Sunday, D and I played tennis (in 90 degree heat) and then went to the pool briefly (due to the aforementioned 90 degree heat), although I didn't get all the way in because it was freaking cold. Aren't most pools closed until Memorial Day? That's probably why. The freaking cold.

Then I went to work. Then I took a nap. Then we took a 4,000 (or 4) mile walk. Then I collapsed from exhaustion.

Now, a couple of weeks back, we went to this bridal expo that came through. We went because, even though I don't actually buy into the whole thing of the big, fancy dresses and the overpriced flowers and the food at $20 a person, it seemed like something that would be fun.

Let me tell you something. About 85% of the brides there? C-R-A-Z-Y. Some of them were there in big, scary groups. Some of them were there with miserable-looking fiances. Some of them were there with their moms, yelling things like, "OH MY GOD LOOK AT THIS IS I DON'T GET THIS FLORIST I'M GOING TO LITERALLY DIE AND OH MY GOD LOOK AT THIS DRESS I NEED IT I NEED IT I NEED IT!!!"

Legit. Frightening.

It was fun, though. Samples of things, people giving me things. All the makings of a good day. If I could have all that, without the crazy, crazy brides-to-be, it would have been even better.

The further I get into this whole planning process, the less sense it makes to me. I mean. . .I understand the day being special and all that. . .but why would you want to spend your life savings for one day? Why would you boss people around and bully people and have to have everything JUST SO for one day? A long time ago (maybe a year ago) I told one of my friends' mothers that I'd be OK just going to Vegas and getting married. She didn't believe me. For some reason, she was under the impression that I had to have all the pomp and circumstance surrounding one of these things.

The fact of the matter is, I want to have a party. I want to wear the white dress (mainly because I already have one picked out that I would wear to work if I could, but people might look at me funny). But. . .that's about it. I only marginally care about the rest of the "wedding day." Because I think that what most people (and probably a good percentage of the girls at that bridal show) [the first time, I typed "bridal ho" and the second time, I typed "bridal shoe"] forget is that it's one. Day. You have to spend the rest of your life (in theory) with whomever you marry, and it's not going to matter if your dress is coordinated with the ribbons you tied around the doves' necks, which are coordinated with your bridesmaids' shoes, which match the boxer shorts the groomsmen are wearing.

Plus, I don't care how many times you say "oh, yeah, you can wear this dress again!", bridesmaids' dresses are good for nothing other than being in a wedding, going to a prom, wearing as a Halloween costume, or giving to someone. And they're expensive.

So, I'm probably going to end up a giant hypocrite after all of that, but that's how I feel about it at the moment. And I will never think it's OK to spend as much as some people do on weddings.

I'm going to attempt to put up a poll on my blog. . .I had a conversation with my mother during which I did that thing I do where I don't think about things before I say them. I'd like to know opinions of people on the subject of Facebook Parenting.

Here's the sitch: I have this cousin who's, like, 14, 15. This cousin tends to run their mouth on facebook, using profanity I didn't know existed at 14, 15. Said cousin said something. . .especially ridiculous and parental-insulting and profanity-laden on facebook. Mom sees it, tells cousin's parent. Cousin's parent says, thank you, we did see it.

I (not so brightly) say, "You've become one of those people. Why people were so pissed when parents were allowed to join facebook."

(You can take this moment now to cringe.)
She says (not thrilled-ly) that she would want to know.

So what's your opinion? (Let's see if I can make polls work!)

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