After missing lunch yesterday led me to believe I was developing Alzheimers I took some time today to eat some leftover green thai curry (Omnomnom stinky office Onomnom I don't care Omnomnom *buries face in tupperware*) and read the latest issue of Yorkshire Life. (what, I read that. No I'm not 65. OK so I can't usually afford magazines but I was distracted by something shiny. The cover)
Where are all these parentheses coming from? STOP EATING MY WORDS UP!
Anyway. So I was flipping through it and saw this wedding dress.
And I didn't vomit.
Which is quite a big thing because whilst I would marry The Boy tomorrow without a second's hesitation I am actually allergic to the idea of having an actual wedding.
For serious, and I'll tell you why.
1) I refuse to look like a marshmallow for anyone. Or a Disney bride.
2) I refuse to allow my Bridezilla potential be realised. I know that if I let it out it will cause armageddon and I would arrive at my wedding day a scarlet, seething ball of stress with The Boy cowering next to me.
3) I don't like being the centre of attention. Yes I'm loud, yes I'm vivacious but I actually prefer deflecting attention from myself to my friends or the people I love.
Case in point - my friend Adele is an incredible photographer. HIRE HER HIRE HER.
4) My family is mad. Actually mad. My parents have both been married twice, they don't get along, there are mini feuds galore with Aunts and Uncles all over the place and to top it off The Boy's parents are also separated. We would have to either get married in a Hexagon with our friends in the middle and our families carefully seggregated by barbed wire around the outside or risk arguments of epic proportions over the seating plan.
5) It's very very expensive. Like really really expensive for what amounts to a party. A stressful party. Where everyone is fighting and I look ridiculous.
"Honey I love you but if you call our wedding a party one more time, you may not be invited" ~ Monica, Friends.
If it were up to me, I would drag The Boy off somewhere, get married alone and have it be about us, being in love, committing to one another and then let The Families battle it out to arrange some sort of celebration when we get back.
But that all changed this morning for a brief shining moment when I saw the dress. The dress which if it had a name, would be called Audrey Hepburn.
And why do wedding dresses always have stupid names like "phoebe" or "francesca"? Not that these are stupid names, but they are stupid names for a dress. If I made a wedding dress I'd call it Albert. Or Flugelbinder.
It wasn't the dress alone. I turned a few pages and discovered a feature on WEDDING CAKES MADE OF CHEESE. Not cheesecakes, actual tiers of brie or stilton with fruits and stuffs.
I wouldn't mind who was fighting if I could be stood in the corner in a pretty dress nomming on cheese. Mmmmm cheese. None of the disney brides had a cake made of cheese.
So buoyed up on the first pro-wedding feelings I have ever had I sent the following text message.
Our Hero: We have to get married. I just found a wedding dress that doesn't make me vomit and a company that makes wedding cakes out of cheese. Will you be my wife before I go all anti-wedding again?
The Boy: *radio silence* *tumbleweeds*
(disclaimer. He didn't actually reply to that effect. That is my overly dramatic way of saying that he has not yet responded. Either due to terror or because he is working very hard in Devon at his very important job. *clutches at straws*)
So I took it to Twitter.
I'll keep you posted!
Ziggy played guitarrrrrraaaaarrrrraaaarrrrrr
Title: Modern Love by David Bowie
Title: Modern Love by David Bowie