About weddings:
Number of days until I become a married woman: 169
Number of times I have freaked out about the impending end of my singlehood: None. Strangely or thankfully, hitching my anchor to Alman's boat (or something like that, I'm not a nautical person) is probably the easiest part about getting married.
Number of times I have freaked out about wedding planning: Mutiple. I feel like popular TV and rom coms have instilled in me a false sense of expectancy about how much drama I should be feeling. Like shouldn't I be all Bridezilla, alternating between weeping over mismatched tablecloths, vengefully sending out invitations to my douchebag exes (I have a lot. Of exes, and also douchebag exes), sneakily comparing notes and sabotaging my childhood friend's wedding that is planned for the weekend before mine (this is actually happening! The childhood friend's wedding, I mean, not the sabotage)? Oh wait, there hasn't been any drama yet because I haven't sorted out my invitations and tablecloths yet. For now I mostly just panic about not having enough shit done and worrying that my wedding will be too sappy.
Number of dresses I have: 3, and they are all gorgeous.
Number of venues I've booked: 2 out of 3, and therein lies one of the sources of my panic attacks.
Number of minutes in a day I think about how to do my hair in these gorgeous dresses: Too much. My employers would weep if they knew.
Things I am secretly hoping will happen on my wedding day(s):
1. Someone will give me a kitten as a wedding present (a girl can dream)
2. I become, overnight, gloriously photogenic and my wedding photos all look fantastic (I tend to freeze in front of cameras and either grin too widely or make ugly faces, it's a disease)
3. Alman cries (with happiness, I mean. On the inside doesn't count. We want to see emotional happy tears, dammit!)
Random things I like:
My new Miu Miu bow bag
I could stroke it all day. I won't, because that would look creepy, but I COULD, because it is gorgeous chocolate brown leather. When I put it on my desk at work I can sometimes catch whiffs of the leather smell as I work. It reminds me why I work the hours I do. (I will be less materialistic when I have a kitten.)
A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin
Holy shit, was I obsessed. I bulldozed my way through the five books in three months while watching Season 2 of the series, and am now waiting impatiently for Book 6, which is coming in... a few years. Shoot me, Georgie, this is torture. At least I have all the fan boards online to discuss conspiracy theories and trade George R.R. Martin-isms with. After reading five books in a row, you can't help but notice his favourite phrases: What is this mummer's farce? I must needs drink my Dornish red wine, it is known (but also you know nothing, Jon Snow).
Discworld by Terry Pratchett
So I tired of it for a while (reading 28 Discworld books almost consecutively can do that to you, apparently) but I am now back and on track and set to finish this series before 2013 rolls around. I find it totally amazing how fictional characters populating an imaginary flat world carried by four giant elephants standing on the back of a giant turtle floating through space can be richer and more colourful than some PEOPLE I meet in real life. Reality fail.
Online shopping
Etsy! Fashion Valet! ASOS! (Not Net-a-porter yet though - that's a whole different price range that my online self fears to venture into because if things don't fit me and I've spent that much money on it, I think I'd cry.) Nothing beats working late at night and taking a 5 minute break to window shop without even moving your ass from your swivel chair! Okay so it's sometimes a 20 minute break. Okay and it's not window shopping, its actual shopping.
Random things I don't like:
My stupid oven which keeps switching itself off. I've taken to just standing there by the switchbox thing, broom in hand, just daring the flip thing to switch itself off. And then it does, and then I use the broom to switch it back on and then commences a flip war. Which I am fighting... with an inanimate switchbox. I really hate my oven I tell you. Just to spite it, these are the brown butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookies I made with Yan, NOT with my oven. This was using Yan's nicely behaved oven.
Number of days until I become a married woman: 169
Number of times I have freaked out about the impending end of my singlehood: None. Strangely or thankfully, hitching my anchor to Alman's boat (or something like that, I'm not a nautical person) is probably the easiest part about getting married.
Number of times I have freaked out about wedding planning: Mutiple. I feel like popular TV and rom coms have instilled in me a false sense of expectancy about how much drama I should be feeling. Like shouldn't I be all Bridezilla, alternating between weeping over mismatched tablecloths, vengefully sending out invitations to my douchebag exes (I have a lot. Of exes, and also douchebag exes), sneakily comparing notes and sabotaging my childhood friend's wedding that is planned for the weekend before mine (this is actually happening! The childhood friend's wedding, I mean, not the sabotage)? Oh wait, there hasn't been any drama yet because I haven't sorted out my invitations and tablecloths yet. For now I mostly just panic about not having enough shit done and worrying that my wedding will be too sappy.
Number of dresses I have: 3, and they are all gorgeous.
Number of venues I've booked: 2 out of 3, and therein lies one of the sources of my panic attacks.
Number of minutes in a day I think about how to do my hair in these gorgeous dresses: Too much. My employers would weep if they knew.
Things I am secretly hoping will happen on my wedding day(s):
1. Someone will give me a kitten as a wedding present (a girl can dream)
2. I become, overnight, gloriously photogenic and my wedding photos all look fantastic (I tend to freeze in front of cameras and either grin too widely or make ugly faces, it's a disease)
3. Alman cries (with happiness, I mean. On the inside doesn't count. We want to see emotional happy tears, dammit!)
Random things I like:
My new Miu Miu bow bag
I could stroke it all day. I won't, because that would look creepy, but I COULD, because it is gorgeous chocolate brown leather. When I put it on my desk at work I can sometimes catch whiffs of the leather smell as I work. It reminds me why I work the hours I do. (I will be less materialistic when I have a kitten.)
A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin
Holy shit, was I obsessed. I bulldozed my way through the five books in three months while watching Season 2 of the series, and am now waiting impatiently for Book 6, which is coming in... a few years. Shoot me, Georgie, this is torture. At least I have all the fan boards online to discuss conspiracy theories and trade George R.R. Martin-isms with. After reading five books in a row, you can't help but notice his favourite phrases: What is this mummer's farce? I must needs drink my Dornish red wine, it is known (but also you know nothing, Jon Snow).
Discworld by Terry Pratchett
So I tired of it for a while (reading 28 Discworld books almost consecutively can do that to you, apparently) but I am now back and on track and set to finish this series before 2013 rolls around. I find it totally amazing how fictional characters populating an imaginary flat world carried by four giant elephants standing on the back of a giant turtle floating through space can be richer and more colourful than some PEOPLE I meet in real life. Reality fail.
Online shopping
Etsy! Fashion Valet! ASOS! (Not Net-a-porter yet though - that's a whole different price range that my online self fears to venture into because if things don't fit me and I've spent that much money on it, I think I'd cry.) Nothing beats working late at night and taking a 5 minute break to window shop without even moving your ass from your swivel chair! Okay so it's sometimes a 20 minute break. Okay and it's not window shopping, its actual shopping.
Random things I don't like:
My stupid oven which keeps switching itself off. I've taken to just standing there by the switchbox thing, broom in hand, just daring the flip thing to switch itself off. And then it does, and then I use the broom to switch it back on and then commences a flip war. Which I am fighting... with an inanimate switchbox. I really hate my oven I tell you. Just to spite it, these are the brown butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookies I made with Yan, NOT with my oven. This was using Yan's nicely behaved oven.
People who come around behind my desk and peer at my laptop. If you're not my boss, you're not allowed to do this. I mean I can't really disallow from doing it per se, but I sure can bitch about you after.
Sleeping with my eyelash extensions. I miss being able to wear a sleeping mask or being able to squash my face into Alman's neck (it looks less weird than it sounds). Damn you eyelash extensions! I know I can't quit you because I am super lazy and not having to wear and remove mascara has probably freed up 15 minutes of my day every day.
Sleeping with my eyelash extensions. I miss being able to wear a sleeping mask or being able to squash my face into Alman's neck (it looks less weird than it sounds). Damn you eyelash extensions! I know I can't quit you because I am super lazy and not having to wear and remove mascara has probably freed up 15 minutes of my day every day.
I really need to get back to work.
