So, I've really dropped the ball on my little project over here. At least, I've dropped the ball on the blogging part of it.
Anyway, I have been up to things, both project related, wedding related and otherwise:
I've taught someone something. I've watched a scary movie (I would even say it was two scary movies, but John would probably argue neither were than scary. I beg to differ on this. My game, my rules). I've added to my fitness routine by doing power yoga and pilates. And I've been working on a few other things, as well.
Wedding related, I ordered my save-the-dates yesterday (so, so, so cute!), picked out my invitations
In the otherwise department, we went on a small vacation to Florida for Labor Day, where we celebrated John's birthday and my mom's birthday. I went to Lafayette to visit my brother, SIL and nephew. I went to Baton Rouge (a lot) to visit John. I've also been trying my hardest to get a job, which is almost like a job in and of itself (albeit an extremely unrewarding, crappy paying one).
So, what I'm saying here is, no I haven't forgotten about this. I've just been busy. And if I'm being an entirely honest, I little uninspired, but I'm working on that. I've got a few entries outlined, so hopefully I'll be back to our regularly scheduled blog posts shortly.
Toodles! (For today only! I promise!)
Showing posts with label john. Show all posts
Showing posts with label john. Show all posts
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Wedding dress success
I went wedding dress shopping yesterday, and it was an experience.
If you remember, I had some qualms about going wedding dress shopping. Yesterday morning, I had a case a nerves similar to those I would get on the first day of school. Not entirely sure what to expect, but still excited for the experience.
I had made an appointment at Southern Bridal, a boutique in Mandeville, Louisiana, where I live. Overall, I had a great experience. Here are 5 things I learned about wedding gowns while shopping for wedding gowns:
1. There is no such thing as a standard sample size.
Southern Bridal, though small, had a lot of dresses, and several designers. I found myself confined to only two or three designers because they had samples in "larger" sizes (and my larger I mean 10, 12, or 14). If it was any smaller than a 10, as they say, fuggedaboutit. My maid of honor brought me in a beautiful dress that was a size 8, and I couldn't even get it on.
2. Forget standard sample size, there is no such thing as a standard sizing system. Period.
A 12 in one designer would fit, but be too snug in another. Also? I learned I could fit in a size 14 in certain dresses, if they were a certain style. I didn't really want a mermaid style dress, but in the interest of being open-minded, I decided to try on some. Well, once we were in the dressing room with them, I couldn't even get them on. Clearly, the sample sizes were not meant for someone with hips. They could have been beautiful on me, but we'll never know. Oh well.
3. Those bitches can be heavy.
You just don't realize how much tonnage beading, lace and embroidery can hold until you are trying to get a dress with a fully beaded bodice and train on.
4. A dress might be gorgeous, but breathing is never overrated.
I tried on a discontinued dress that was breathtaking...literally. I mean, it fit, but it was TIGHT. The people at the store "thought" there was enough fabric to let out, but really, on a purchase like this, I'm going to need a more positive answer then "I think." Also, some of the beading was loose, and in general, my mom and I were hesitant about buying a sample dress, even if it was 50% off (for the record, the dress was pretty pricey to begin with so, the discounted price was okay, but with alteration fees I'm not sure it would have been that much of a steal).
5. In the end, you may pick out a dress you never envisioned yourself in.
Needless to say, I've thought about John and my wedding day a lot. Of all the factors involved in a wedding, my wedding dress has been the one that has changed the most. I guess it's because I hadn't tried any on yet, but every time I envisioned our wedding day, I saw something different. With that said, the dress I picked yesterday is nothing like I ever thought I would wear. It's absolutely beautiful, of course, (I can't describe it here, but if you want to know more about it, email me at secretbrideblog (at) gmail (dot) com) and it was the only dress that when I put it on, I felt like a bride in. Not just any bride, but John's bride. This was the dress, that when I wore it, I could see myself walking down the aisle in. This was the dress I wanted to marry John in.
I just re-read that, oh my, is it ever sappy. But I guess weddings are sappy affairs.
Also, on Twitter the other day I asked what undergarments to wear while trying on dresses. Thanks for all the replies! I ended up going in a bustier and Spanx, and both made the dresses fit really well (when I could get in to them!).
In the interest of entertainment, here is a photo I posted on twitpic yesterday, of the aforementioned size 8 dress I couldn't get into.
Wedding dress fail:
ETA: I still can't believe I found a dress so...easily. I honestly thought it would be much more difficult, but I am relieved it's over, and so happy I found the perfect dress for me. (Granted, it was the first dress I tried on, but of course I tried on about a dozen or so after, just to be sure. What can I say? I like to be extra positive :P.)
If you remember, I had some qualms about going wedding dress shopping. Yesterday morning, I had a case a nerves similar to those I would get on the first day of school. Not entirely sure what to expect, but still excited for the experience.
I had made an appointment at Southern Bridal, a boutique in Mandeville, Louisiana, where I live. Overall, I had a great experience. Here are 5 things I learned about wedding gowns while shopping for wedding gowns:
1. There is no such thing as a standard sample size.
Southern Bridal, though small, had a lot of dresses, and several designers. I found myself confined to only two or three designers because they had samples in "larger" sizes (and my larger I mean 10, 12, or 14). If it was any smaller than a 10, as they say, fuggedaboutit. My maid of honor brought me in a beautiful dress that was a size 8, and I couldn't even get it on.
2. Forget standard sample size, there is no such thing as a standard sizing system. Period.
A 12 in one designer would fit, but be too snug in another. Also? I learned I could fit in a size 14 in certain dresses, if they were a certain style. I didn't really want a mermaid style dress, but in the interest of being open-minded, I decided to try on some. Well, once we were in the dressing room with them, I couldn't even get them on. Clearly, the sample sizes were not meant for someone with hips. They could have been beautiful on me, but we'll never know. Oh well.
3. Those bitches can be heavy.
You just don't realize how much tonnage beading, lace and embroidery can hold until you are trying to get a dress with a fully beaded bodice and train on.
4. A dress might be gorgeous, but breathing is never overrated.
I tried on a discontinued dress that was breathtaking...literally. I mean, it fit, but it was TIGHT. The people at the store "thought" there was enough fabric to let out, but really, on a purchase like this, I'm going to need a more positive answer then "I think." Also, some of the beading was loose, and in general, my mom and I were hesitant about buying a sample dress, even if it was 50% off (for the record, the dress was pretty pricey to begin with so, the discounted price was okay, but with alteration fees I'm not sure it would have been that much of a steal).
5. In the end, you may pick out a dress you never envisioned yourself in.
Needless to say, I've thought about John and my wedding day a lot. Of all the factors involved in a wedding, my wedding dress has been the one that has changed the most. I guess it's because I hadn't tried any on yet, but every time I envisioned our wedding day, I saw something different. With that said, the dress I picked yesterday is nothing like I ever thought I would wear. It's absolutely beautiful, of course, (I can't describe it here, but if you want to know more about it, email me at secretbrideblog (at) gmail (dot) com) and it was the only dress that when I put it on, I felt like a bride in. Not just any bride, but John's bride. This was the dress, that when I wore it, I could see myself walking down the aisle in. This was the dress I wanted to marry John in.
I just re-read that, oh my, is it ever sappy. But I guess weddings are sappy affairs.
Also, on Twitter the other day I asked what undergarments to wear while trying on dresses. Thanks for all the replies! I ended up going in a bustier and Spanx, and both made the dresses fit really well (when I could get in to them!).
In the interest of entertainment, here is a photo I posted on twitpic yesterday, of the aforementioned size 8 dress I couldn't get into.
Wedding dress fail:
ETA: I still can't believe I found a dress so...easily. I honestly thought it would be much more difficult, but I am relieved it's over, and so happy I found the perfect dress for me. (Granted, it was the first dress I tried on, but of course I tried on about a dozen or so after, just to be sure. What can I say? I like to be extra positive :P.)
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Moving, NYC, and life, among other things
So I survived my two day journey back to Louisiana from Massachusetts. Hardly. Kind of. Okay, it wasn't that bad.
Originally, we were supposed to tow my car behind the Penske rental truck so John and I could be in the truck together. This was supposed to be a test. Can we survive 30 hours trapped in a truck cab while driving cross country together? If yes, marriage should be a breeze. Well, when we went to put my Honda Civic on the tow dolly, we encountered a problem. It went something like this.
JOHN: OK, I'm going to drive it up now.
ME: Alright.
*John edges car onto dolly"
ME: STOP STOP STOP THE FRONT END IS HITTING IT! STOP STOP STOP!
(For the record, "it" was a huge screw on the dolly, and it was denting my front end.)
Well, it turned out the ground clearance on my car was too low, so we couldn't use the dolly. Cue panic attack.
I don't like surprises. I hate it when things don't go according to plan. I have very little "go with the flow" when it comes to things like this. I like order. Schedules. Plans. So this, this unexpected change, was the cherry on an anxiety sundae that tipped me over into full on, stress-ball Katy.
Basically, I had a melt down.
We had to bring the dolly back to rental place, and I have to give Penske props. Everyone we spoke to was really helpful and completely pleasant to deal with. They refunded me the cost of the dolly, and we had no problems whatsoever. If you ever need to rent a truck to move or what not, I highly recommend Penske. Good prices, great service.
We left at four AM Friday, the 7th. Things were going smoothly until we hit NYC.
In short, this is what we stared at for two hours:
NO ONE, and I mean no one, should have to sit in the Bronx for that long. I'm totally counting this as #26 completed. It might be fudging a little, but whatever, I experienced the joy that is the NY driver, so I'm considering it done.
We went on to get lost in New Jersey, thanks to the complexity and idiocy that is the NJ Turnpike. This resulted in another break down, but thank God for John, who was the sweetest thing ever, trying to get me to calm down. Seriously, this is why we are together. He balances out my crazy nicely.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, which was nice.
I am now living in my parents house (yuck) in Louisiana. It's the greatest of scenario, but the food is good, the bed is comfy, and frankly, I've seen worse. I still don't have a job, but I'm working as a freelance writer for now to pay the bills, which is actually pretty fun, considering. (SHAMELESS PLUG: If you want to hire me, check out my website www.katharineflockton.com)
Yesterday marked 10 months till the big day. Later this month I am going wedding dress shopping for the first time, and I am really nervous. There will be a post detailing this more later, but for now, what advice do you have for gown shopping?
Originally, we were supposed to tow my car behind the Penske rental truck so John and I could be in the truck together. This was supposed to be a test. Can we survive 30 hours trapped in a truck cab while driving cross country together? If yes, marriage should be a breeze. Well, when we went to put my Honda Civic on the tow dolly, we encountered a problem. It went something like this.
JOHN: OK, I'm going to drive it up now.
ME: Alright.
*John edges car onto dolly"
ME: STOP STOP STOP THE FRONT END IS HITTING IT! STOP STOP STOP!
(For the record, "it" was a huge screw on the dolly, and it was denting my front end.)
Well, it turned out the ground clearance on my car was too low, so we couldn't use the dolly. Cue panic attack.
I don't like surprises. I hate it when things don't go according to plan. I have very little "go with the flow" when it comes to things like this. I like order. Schedules. Plans. So this, this unexpected change, was the cherry on an anxiety sundae that tipped me over into full on, stress-ball Katy.
Basically, I had a melt down.
We had to bring the dolly back to rental place, and I have to give Penske props. Everyone we spoke to was really helpful and completely pleasant to deal with. They refunded me the cost of the dolly, and we had no problems whatsoever. If you ever need to rent a truck to move or what not, I highly recommend Penske. Good prices, great service.
We left at four AM Friday, the 7th. Things were going smoothly until we hit NYC.
In short, this is what we stared at for two hours:
NO ONE, and I mean no one, should have to sit in the Bronx for that long. I'm totally counting this as #26 completed. It might be fudging a little, but whatever, I experienced the joy that is the NY driver, so I'm considering it done.
We went on to get lost in New Jersey, thanks to the complexity and idiocy that is the NJ Turnpike. This resulted in another break down, but thank God for John, who was the sweetest thing ever, trying to get me to calm down. Seriously, this is why we are together. He balances out my crazy nicely.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, which was nice.
I am now living in my parents house (yuck) in Louisiana. It's the greatest of scenario, but the food is good, the bed is comfy, and frankly, I've seen worse. I still don't have a job, but I'm working as a freelance writer for now to pay the bills, which is actually pretty fun, considering. (SHAMELESS PLUG: If you want to hire me, check out my website www.katharineflockton.com)
Yesterday marked 10 months till the big day. Later this month I am going wedding dress shopping for the first time, and I am really nervous. There will be a post detailing this more later, but for now, what advice do you have for gown shopping?
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Carbs make the world a better place. Especially when you spent a Sunday night drinking a lot of alcohol. Hey, I don’t judge you (okay, maybe I do).
This was written yesterday, posted today, so just pretend you are reading this on a Monday, okay?
Last night my uncle (who I live with) took me out in Boston to celebrate finishing my master’s (which technically won’t be finished-finished till December, but whatever) and also my moving out of his house, something I suspect he is both looking forward to and dreading. We started our evening at a restaurant called Rocca, where we were supposed to have dinner, but because apparently the main dining area is closed on Sunday we decided to have a drink there and relocate for dinner.
(I realized I should have been taking pictures, but I am notorious for bringing my camera out with me, and then never taking a single picture. Oh well. As a result, we are going to play the “Let’s Google Image Search things I would have taken a picture of had I remembered to” game.)
So, anyway, we ended up having the best drink I’ve ever had at Rocca. It’s called a Strada 6A, and if you are ever in Boston and find yourself looking for a cool place in the South End to have a drink GO HERE AND ORDER THIS ONE. It was super tasty.
After the tasty drink, we went to Masa for dinner. Masa is like an upscale Mexican restaurant, which at first I was really excited about, but after reading the menu, finding most EVERYTHING in Spanish, so I wasn’t 100% sure what I was ordering, and not seeing a taco or burrito in sight (yes, I know this isn’t authentic Mexican, but it’s what I’m used to), I was a little wary. In an effort to be daring, and knock another thing of my list, I decided to try mahi-mahi, mostly because my mother once said I would like it, and I usually trust my mother.
It should be said I don’t particularly care for fish. I hate the way it smells; I hate the way (most) tastes. Unless it is deep fried, I usually stay away from it. But, I didn’t want to be lame and order the chicken.
Well, my dinner came, I hesitantly took a bite, and to my chagrin, I really liked it. It tasted nothing like fish, and, I really hate this saying because it’s so cliché, but it tasted like chicken.
This was not my dinner, but it kind of looked like it:
I just Google imaged searched mahi mahi, because I realized I’ve never seen one, and now I feel really bad, because it’s actually a really pretty fish! I’m sorry, little mahi mahi! Just in case you have never seen one either:
Anyway, pallet = expanding. I consider this a small personal victory, because when it comes to food, I am really picky. Mostly I just don't like the way a food sounds or looks, or I didn't like one type of a food cooked a certain way (as it was with fish), so I avoid it all together. I've been meaning to work on this. There is something very...young about saying, "I don't like _____, it tastes/feels/looks weird." So, good for me, I guess?
After dinner, we went on a tour of Boston gay clubs, starting at Club Cafe, where it was apparently piano bar night, where I had the following run in:
Attractive gay man carrying 2 drinks: Excuse me.
Me: Sure.
Attractive gay man, who has now bumped into me in the chest area: Oh! Sorry about that. Nice boobs though.
Me: Thanks.
This is why I love gay bars. Because you can have instances like this one and it's not all awkward and creepy, and it's funny and light and self-esteem boosting. Every girl should have a few gay friends for exactly this!
We then went on to Fritz, where I was literally the only female in the bar, and then closed the evening at the Eagle. And now it is the day after, and I am paying for my evening of fun dearly. Apparently I just can't bounce back as quickly as I used to, which is sad and unfortunate.
P.S. I am moving back to Louisiana in 3 days! And I get to see John in 2! This has nothing to do with anything, but I am really excited about it :). We've been doing the long distance relationship thing for a year now, and let's just say I was ready to be done with it a year ago.
Last night my uncle (who I live with) took me out in Boston to celebrate finishing my master’s (which technically won’t be finished-finished till December, but whatever) and also my moving out of his house, something I suspect he is both looking forward to and dreading. We started our evening at a restaurant called Rocca, where we were supposed to have dinner, but because apparently the main dining area is closed on Sunday we decided to have a drink there and relocate for dinner.
(I realized I should have been taking pictures, but I am notorious for bringing my camera out with me, and then never taking a single picture. Oh well. As a result, we are going to play the “Let’s Google Image Search things I would have taken a picture of had I remembered to” game.)
So, anyway, we ended up having the best drink I’ve ever had at Rocca. It’s called a Strada 6A, and if you are ever in Boston and find yourself looking for a cool place in the South End to have a drink GO HERE AND ORDER THIS ONE. It was super tasty.
After the tasty drink, we went to Masa for dinner. Masa is like an upscale Mexican restaurant, which at first I was really excited about, but after reading the menu, finding most EVERYTHING in Spanish, so I wasn’t 100% sure what I was ordering, and not seeing a taco or burrito in sight (yes, I know this isn’t authentic Mexican, but it’s what I’m used to), I was a little wary. In an effort to be daring, and knock another thing of my list, I decided to try mahi-mahi, mostly because my mother once said I would like it, and I usually trust my mother.
It should be said I don’t particularly care for fish. I hate the way it smells; I hate the way (most) tastes. Unless it is deep fried, I usually stay away from it. But, I didn’t want to be lame and order the chicken.
Well, my dinner came, I hesitantly took a bite, and to my chagrin, I really liked it. It tasted nothing like fish, and, I really hate this saying because it’s so cliché, but it tasted like chicken.
This was not my dinner, but it kind of looked like it:
I just Google imaged searched mahi mahi, because I realized I’ve never seen one, and now I feel really bad, because it’s actually a really pretty fish! I’m sorry, little mahi mahi! Just in case you have never seen one either:
Anyway, pallet = expanding. I consider this a small personal victory, because when it comes to food, I am really picky. Mostly I just don't like the way a food sounds or looks, or I didn't like one type of a food cooked a certain way (as it was with fish), so I avoid it all together. I've been meaning to work on this. There is something very...young about saying, "I don't like _____, it tastes/feels/looks weird." So, good for me, I guess?
After dinner, we went on a tour of Boston gay clubs, starting at Club Cafe, where it was apparently piano bar night, where I had the following run in:
Attractive gay man carrying 2 drinks: Excuse me.
Me: Sure.
Attractive gay man, who has now bumped into me in the chest area: Oh! Sorry about that. Nice boobs though.
Me: Thanks.
This is why I love gay bars. Because you can have instances like this one and it's not all awkward and creepy, and it's funny and light and self-esteem boosting. Every girl should have a few gay friends for exactly this!
We then went on to Fritz, where I was literally the only female in the bar, and then closed the evening at the Eagle. And now it is the day after, and I am paying for my evening of fun dearly. Apparently I just can't bounce back as quickly as I used to, which is sad and unfortunate.
P.S. I am moving back to Louisiana in 3 days! And I get to see John in 2! This has nothing to do with anything, but I am really excited about it :). We've been doing the long distance relationship thing for a year now, and let's just say I was ready to be done with it a year ago.
Friday, July 30, 2010
My mind is a messy place
I’ve been having really weird dreams lately.
I’m not sure if it’s the stress of finishing grad school, anxiety over moving, or the strange food combinations I’ve been eating to get rid of food prior to the move or what, but every night I have the strangest dreams.
Some are down right terrifying. For instance, a couple weeks ago I dreamt it was a couple months before the wedding, and I had to get braces put on again (for my not IRL people, I had braces for almost five years when I was in middle/junior high/high school. It was not something worth repeating). And for some reason, I couldn’t get Invisalign or those clear braces; no, all dream me could think about was how terrible my wedding pictures were going to be: Me with a massive metal mouth (and rubber bands). I was crying about it in the dream, and I woke up crying about it in real life.
A few nights ago, I had an incredibly realistic dream where I was being stalked. I have no clue who this person was, but it was a really scary, extremely realistic dream. You know that feeling you get right after you watch a scary movie or TV show, when you are getting ready for bed, and even though you know it’s highly unlikely, you can’t help but feel something is watching you? THAT’S THE FEELING I HAD THE ENTIRE DREAM. And it woke me up at three am, too afraid to go back to sleep and find out what dream stalker wanted from dream me.
I’ve also been having a dream, it’s not really “recurring” because the situation changes, but one thing is constant: My ex-boyfriend is in it. Let’s call him “Mark.” "Mark" and I dated for a little over a year from the spring semester of my senior year of high school through the spring semester of my freshman year of college. He was a nice enough guy, and I’d love to say we split amicably, but that would be a lie. The truth is I was a real bitch towards the end of the relationship (I, unfortunately, use to practice the “let’s see if I can be mean enough for him to dump me” school of breaking up), and we were never really ever to remain friends after that. Anyway, these dreams are almost like vignettes. Like little snippets of scenes or something. I run into him at the grocery store, the mall, running various errands, what have you, and all we do is talk. About relationships: I'm getting married, and he just started dating someone last year. About grad school: I’m finishing up, he just started law school. About the weather, whatever. Random stuff. Nothing "too" serious.
Now, I feel like it must be noted that I have not seen nor spoken to “Mark” in almost four years (thanks to Facebook for keeping me informed on his livelihood. I’m a world-class creeper, but that’s beside the point). I think I dreamt about him once before, after we broke up but before I met John (“Mark” and I broke up in April 2006; John and I met in November 2006), and it was extremely similar to these dreams.
Whenever I have strange dreams like this, I turn to my trusty dream interpreter www.dreammoods.com. I have no idea how accurate Dream Moods is, but for my intents and purposes, it works. Join me, if you will, as I get some premium web therapy courtesy of the fine people behind Dream Moods.
In the case of my orthodonture, the kind folk at Dream Moods say:
“To dream that you have braces, indicates your brashness and critics of others. You should not be so quick to criticize. You need to stop talking too much and listen to what others have to say.”
Wow, what insight to my inner psyche! I’m a self-proclaimed judger of people. To make matters worse, I don’t really criticize people to his/her face, but rather talk about them behind their back. Perhaps my dreams are telling me to STFU and drop this bad habit before the wedding. I think this probably goes along with some items on my list. Namely being a better person.
In regards to my dream stalker, Dream Moods states:
“To dream that you are being stalked, indicates some difficulty or issue which you are not confronting. These problems are not going to go away just because you are ignoring them. If you are being stalked in real life, then this fear may be carried over into your dream state.”
I’m going to go ahead and say “Duh” on this one. I know exactly what “difficulty” they are talking about here. Sadly, I’m not sure how to confront it. Might be something one of my list items can accomplish. We’ll see.
And finally, my new dream friendship with the ex. Well, Dream Moods, what have you to say about this one:
“To see an old ex-boyfriend from childhood in your dream, refers to a freer, less encumbered relationship. The dream serves to bring you back to a time where the responsibilities of adulthood (or marriage) did not interfere with the spontaneity of romance. You need to recapture the excitement, freedom, and vitality of youth that is lacking in your present relationship. To dream that your ex-boyfriend is giving you advice about your current relationship, suggests that your unconscious is telling you not to repeat the same mistakes that you had made with this ex-boyfriend.”
OK, fair enough. John and I are dealing with very “adult” things right now. Marriage. Moving in together. Finding jobs. Finding a place to settle down. These are all heavy subjects. While I love John with all my heart, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to put aside some of this stuff every now and then and just enjoy our relationship. This can definitely be reflected in the list. In fact, I am hereby decreeing a “No Wedding Wednesday” for John and I. From now until June 11, 2011, Wednesdays will be off limits for wedding planning. No talking about it, no making any plans, no meeting or phone calls. However frozen yogurt and taking walks and watching cheesy movies is totally fair game :).
Anyone else have weird dreams pre-wedding? I can’t be the only one.
Switching over, briefly, I went on a very nice two-mile walk/run this morning in an attempt to start exercising again. I loved the walking part, hated the running part (I’m allergic), and other than a sore left foot (thanks to an old injury), it was really great. John asked for the P-90 (not P-90X, the X-less one) for his birthday so we can get in shape, together, and be totally smoking hot at the wedding. I’m actually really looking forward to it. Has anyone done P-90 before? What’s it like and can you really get “the banging bod” you want in 90 days? Inquiring minds want to know!
I’m not sure if it’s the stress of finishing grad school, anxiety over moving, or the strange food combinations I’ve been eating to get rid of food prior to the move or what, but every night I have the strangest dreams.
Some are down right terrifying. For instance, a couple weeks ago I dreamt it was a couple months before the wedding, and I had to get braces put on again (for my not IRL people, I had braces for almost five years when I was in middle/junior high/high school. It was not something worth repeating). And for some reason, I couldn’t get Invisalign or those clear braces; no, all dream me could think about was how terrible my wedding pictures were going to be: Me with a massive metal mouth (and rubber bands). I was crying about it in the dream, and I woke up crying about it in real life.
A few nights ago, I had an incredibly realistic dream where I was being stalked. I have no clue who this person was, but it was a really scary, extremely realistic dream. You know that feeling you get right after you watch a scary movie or TV show, when you are getting ready for bed, and even though you know it’s highly unlikely, you can’t help but feel something is watching you? THAT’S THE FEELING I HAD THE ENTIRE DREAM. And it woke me up at three am, too afraid to go back to sleep and find out what dream stalker wanted from dream me.
I’ve also been having a dream, it’s not really “recurring” because the situation changes, but one thing is constant: My ex-boyfriend is in it. Let’s call him “Mark.” "Mark" and I dated for a little over a year from the spring semester of my senior year of high school through the spring semester of my freshman year of college. He was a nice enough guy, and I’d love to say we split amicably, but that would be a lie. The truth is I was a real bitch towards the end of the relationship (I, unfortunately, use to practice the “let’s see if I can be mean enough for him to dump me” school of breaking up), and we were never really ever to remain friends after that. Anyway, these dreams are almost like vignettes. Like little snippets of scenes or something. I run into him at the grocery store, the mall, running various errands, what have you, and all we do is talk. About relationships: I'm getting married, and he just started dating someone last year. About grad school: I’m finishing up, he just started law school. About the weather, whatever. Random stuff. Nothing "too" serious.
Now, I feel like it must be noted that I have not seen nor spoken to “Mark” in almost four years (thanks to Facebook for keeping me informed on his livelihood. I’m a world-class creeper, but that’s beside the point). I think I dreamt about him once before, after we broke up but before I met John (“Mark” and I broke up in April 2006; John and I met in November 2006), and it was extremely similar to these dreams.
Whenever I have strange dreams like this, I turn to my trusty dream interpreter www.dreammoods.com. I have no idea how accurate Dream Moods is, but for my intents and purposes, it works. Join me, if you will, as I get some premium web therapy courtesy of the fine people behind Dream Moods.
In the case of my orthodonture, the kind folk at Dream Moods say:
“To dream that you have braces, indicates your brashness and critics of others. You should not be so quick to criticize. You need to stop talking too much and listen to what others have to say.”
Wow, what insight to my inner psyche! I’m a self-proclaimed judger of people. To make matters worse, I don’t really criticize people to his/her face, but rather talk about them behind their back. Perhaps my dreams are telling me to STFU and drop this bad habit before the wedding. I think this probably goes along with some items on my list. Namely being a better person.
In regards to my dream stalker, Dream Moods states:
“To dream that you are being stalked, indicates some difficulty or issue which you are not confronting. These problems are not going to go away just because you are ignoring them. If you are being stalked in real life, then this fear may be carried over into your dream state.”
I’m going to go ahead and say “Duh” on this one. I know exactly what “difficulty” they are talking about here. Sadly, I’m not sure how to confront it. Might be something one of my list items can accomplish. We’ll see.
And finally, my new dream friendship with the ex. Well, Dream Moods, what have you to say about this one:
“To see an old ex-boyfriend from childhood in your dream, refers to a freer, less encumbered relationship. The dream serves to bring you back to a time where the responsibilities of adulthood (or marriage) did not interfere with the spontaneity of romance. You need to recapture the excitement, freedom, and vitality of youth that is lacking in your present relationship. To dream that your ex-boyfriend is giving you advice about your current relationship, suggests that your unconscious is telling you not to repeat the same mistakes that you had made with this ex-boyfriend.”
OK, fair enough. John and I are dealing with very “adult” things right now. Marriage. Moving in together. Finding jobs. Finding a place to settle down. These are all heavy subjects. While I love John with all my heart, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to put aside some of this stuff every now and then and just enjoy our relationship. This can definitely be reflected in the list. In fact, I am hereby decreeing a “No Wedding Wednesday” for John and I. From now until June 11, 2011, Wednesdays will be off limits for wedding planning. No talking about it, no making any plans, no meeting or phone calls. However frozen yogurt and taking walks and watching cheesy movies is totally fair game :).
Anyone else have weird dreams pre-wedding? I can’t be the only one.
Switching over, briefly, I went on a very nice two-mile walk/run this morning in an attempt to start exercising again. I loved the walking part, hated the running part (I’m allergic), and other than a sore left foot (thanks to an old injury), it was really great. John asked for the P-90 (not P-90X, the X-less one) for his birthday so we can get in shape, together, and be totally smoking hot at the wedding. I’m actually really looking forward to it. Has anyone done P-90 before? What’s it like and can you really get “the banging bod” you want in 90 days? Inquiring minds want to know!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Wedding planning update
Well, after much heave ho, John and I finally set an official date.
We're getting married June 11, 2011. So, less than a year away.
(I better get cracking on those cranes.)
If you're at all curious, you can read more about us, our wedding, and whatever else on our dorky wedding website:
Click here for more info. I mean, if you really want to.
With that said, I did cross something else off my list this weekend, but it will have to wait for later. I hope everyone had a splendid weekend!
We're getting married June 11, 2011. So, less than a year away.
(I better get cracking on those cranes.)
If you're at all curious, you can read more about us, our wedding, and whatever else on our dorky wedding website:
Click here for more info. I mean, if you really want to.
With that said, I did cross something else off my list this weekend, but it will have to wait for later. I hope everyone had a splendid weekend!
Friday, June 18, 2010
A more in depth explantation
There seems to be some confusion among friends and family (IRL and otherwise) over why I'm doing this.
This isn't something I'm doing because John told me I should, or even insinuated I should. Yes, he influenced some items on the list, but becoming a "better person" wasn't his idea, nor has he ever suggested I need to improve myself. He never said, "You know, Katy, I love you and all, but there are some things I think you can do so you'll be a better wife."
This is about personal growth and accomplishing certain things before getting married. It's about addressing things about myself I would like to change.
Let's face it, no one's perfect, and I fall far from the mark. I'm not trying to make myself into something I'm not for someone else. It's about learning. It's totally possible I could do something on the list and say, "Whoa! Never Again! That sucked." But it's also possible I could do something that completely changes my outlook on things for the better, or even tweaks me into a better person as well.
The truth of the matter is I don't know how to be someone's wife. I don't think anyone really knows how to be a good spouse until they're married, and I'm not claiming that riding a horse or conquering my fear of clowns will make me a good wife, but I do think I will learn skills necessary, that I currently lack, to be a good wife. Like courage, patience, tenacity and empathy.
So what I'm saying is, read a little more between the lines, and you might learn something. I know I am.
This isn't something I'm doing because John told me I should, or even insinuated I should. Yes, he influenced some items on the list, but becoming a "better person" wasn't his idea, nor has he ever suggested I need to improve myself. He never said, "You know, Katy, I love you and all, but there are some things I think you can do so you'll be a better wife."
This is about personal growth and accomplishing certain things before getting married. It's about addressing things about myself I would like to change.
Let's face it, no one's perfect, and I fall far from the mark. I'm not trying to make myself into something I'm not for someone else. It's about learning. It's totally possible I could do something on the list and say, "Whoa! Never Again! That sucked." But it's also possible I could do something that completely changes my outlook on things for the better, or even tweaks me into a better person as well.
The truth of the matter is I don't know how to be someone's wife. I don't think anyone really knows how to be a good spouse until they're married, and I'm not claiming that riding a horse or conquering my fear of clowns will make me a good wife, but I do think I will learn skills necessary, that I currently lack, to be a good wife. Like courage, patience, tenacity and empathy.
So what I'm saying is, read a little more between the lines, and you might learn something. I know I am.
Monday, May 31, 2010
#18
#18 Make a Discovery
This really should have read "make a personal discovery" because that's what I intended it to be. I wanted to do this because I think it's important to constantly "rediscover" who you are and who you want to be. I know, for me, it's easy to grow complacent and forget that I am a multifaceted individual, capable of extraordinary things, I just have to discover them.
Yesterday, I did something extraordinary. I played wiffle ball.
For those of you who know me personally, the idea that I willingly played a sport is at best comical and at worst downright incredulous and hysterical. I am not an athletic person. In fact, I often claim to be the most nonathletic person in the world. Because of this non-talent, I feel embarrassed when I play sports, and since I hate to be made fun of, I take all the jabs made when you participate in an activity such as a sport personally.
But, yesterday, at a family cookout, I was somehow persuaded to play wiffle ball. I wasn't very excited at first, but once I got into it, I had fun. I was even able to take all the jabbing of, "Oh, Katy is at bat, everyone move in!" in jest. And you know what? I wasn't even half bad at it. I even made a couple runs.
I've always thought since I'm not good at sports, playing them would be unbearable (I blame years of P.E. in school). But, yesterday, I learned it's okay to make a fool out of myself and play a game, even if I'm not athletically inclined. It can be fun, and dare I say, enjoyable enough to do again in the future, name-calling and personal insults included.
(When I told John this, he basically said, "Yeah? That's what I've been trying to tell you!" File this under "Things I need to learn on my own, which is why I didn't listen to you in the first place, sorry.")
This really should have read "make a personal discovery" because that's what I intended it to be. I wanted to do this because I think it's important to constantly "rediscover" who you are and who you want to be. I know, for me, it's easy to grow complacent and forget that I am a multifaceted individual, capable of extraordinary things, I just have to discover them.
Yesterday, I did something extraordinary. I played wiffle ball.
For those of you who know me personally, the idea that I willingly played a sport is at best comical and at worst downright incredulous and hysterical. I am not an athletic person. In fact, I often claim to be the most nonathletic person in the world. Because of this non-talent, I feel embarrassed when I play sports, and since I hate to be made fun of, I take all the jabs made when you participate in an activity such as a sport personally.
But, yesterday, at a family cookout, I was somehow persuaded to play wiffle ball. I wasn't very excited at first, but once I got into it, I had fun. I was even able to take all the jabbing of, "Oh, Katy is at bat, everyone move in!" in jest. And you know what? I wasn't even half bad at it. I even made a couple runs.
I've always thought since I'm not good at sports, playing them would be unbearable (I blame years of P.E. in school). But, yesterday, I learned it's okay to make a fool out of myself and play a game, even if I'm not athletically inclined. It can be fun, and dare I say, enjoyable enough to do again in the future, name-calling and personal insults included.
(When I told John this, he basically said, "Yeah? That's what I've been trying to tell you!" File this under "Things I need to learn on my own, which is why I didn't listen to you in the first place, sorry.")
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