I did not think I would find my wedding dress at a chain store. I just didn't.
Remember that awesome post from a few weeks back? That awesome post that boasted about me finding my wedding dress? Well, I retract it - I retract ALL of it.
I bought "the" dress from an online retailer in China called JJsHouse. Never, EVER buy from them... EVER! I have had the experience from Hell, and the dress turned out to be nothing like I expected. Not only did I have to pay an ADDITIONAL $45 import tax, but the dress itself was awful. It was supposed to be champagne in color. The dress I received was more of a nude color (think Vegas show girl nude color - the color of the get-ups in which they cover up their naughty bits). There were black stains all over the front of the dress. The hand embroidered stitching was stitched INTO the satin underlay of the dress. As with any other dress, I thought it would be solely stitched into the organza overlay. Nope. And there were many frayed threads, and the beads had started to fall off the dress... It was a disaster!
Per their return policy, I quickly took photos of the damaged dress. I felt deflated, and was so upset... I knew at that moment this dress was not meant to be. I promptly contacted the merchant to advise of the issues, and request a return. Guess what they suggested I do to correct the stains? HAND WASH IT MYSELF!!! I was appalled that any "legit" merchant would recommend this course of action. I was so pissed that I called my credit card company to open a dispute. Thank Heaven for Capital One because they immediately opened the dispute, and credited my account. Yes, there are some additional measures to be taken, but I am praying the credit sticks.. either way I have all the documentation I need. I digress...
So, I opened the dispute with Cap One, and continued to try to work out a solution with the merchant. They FINALLY agreed to initiate a return... BUT I would be responsible for the return shipping fee. And this is where it stands right now. I am fighting with them because they want to send me coupons for a future purchase; claiming they cannot send me a return shipping label... I believe it is bullshit. They damaged the dress, and did not have their QA team closely inspect when it left the warehouse. So, hopefully this will continue to go in my favor.
I even went so far as to show fiance the damaged dress. He gave it one look and said 'Oh no. No, not that color. That doesn't even look like a wedding dress.' That being said, I pretty much had to go back to square one with respect to my wedding dress. And that is okay. I put a lot of thought into how I want to look, and what I want to achieve... and I am happy to report my sister found a dress. A PERFECT dress. A GORGEOUS dress. A PRINCESSY dress (but not too over the top). Something that will be amazing for our wedding day. Our perfect wedding day :-) Thanks David's Bridal - I wasn't confident that an American chain store would provide me with legitimate wedding dress fodder for my big day.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
Ch ch ch ch changes
You'd think I would feel super duper extra happy about moving back to Chicago with my fiancé... And I do. But, to a degree, I also feel crappy.
We currently share a townhome with his best friend. It's painfully obvious that I never should've moved in... I love the kid... I just live differently and sometimes, it's hard to reach a common ground. Thing is, I'm going to be 34 and he's only 27. We currently have opposite life experiences. I want to start my life with my partner. He's not at that point yet.
I recently went on a cleaning strike. Yes, I do realize that is somewhat passive aggressive... And that's not right. But I was at a loss. I felt like a maid. That's not fair either.
I especially feel crappy because he is my fiancé's best friend. I don't ever want there to be tension there because of me... Ever. But, I definitely feel like roommate doesn't like me - at all. That was never the intention.
So, I know when it's time to go. Fiancé and I move out in a month. I'm hopeful that time, and distance, will better the situation. We'll see. All I can say is that I'm trying to keep the peace. That's all I can do, right?
Have any of you ever been in a similar situation? If so, how did you deal?
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Just because we share DNA doesn't mean we're family
I stand by that statement. It is not directed toward my folks, my sister, or my amazing cousins who I DO communicate with, and actually like... it is not even directed toward my extended family of second, and third cousins. Warning - shit will get real in this post, and it will be a long one.
I guess I should back up quite a few years, and set all of this up so you better understand. This post is directed toward my father's shitbag immediate family (read: brother, sister, nieces, nephews, and his parents). My dad's family has a history of being back stabbing morons. This was made evident when my dad's sister stole $10k from him, or rather, didn't bother to pay him for a side job he had completed. That $10k was to be the start of mine, and my sister's college fund. Dad always felt guilty because he could not pay for our college tuition. But it wasn't his fault. His parents lied while under oath to protect his slimeball sister. His own brother decided to fall silent despite all the times my dad bailed his sorry ass out... From that point on, we didn't talk to his side of the family for just about 6 or 7 years. No Christmases, no calls - well, except from his c u next Tuesday sister who threatened my mom... Any gifts that were left for my sister and I were promptly returned.
I remember when we moved from one town to another. Dad's dirtbag sister had some strings she could pull in the real estate world. Clearly, we did not inform his family of the move. But guess what? They found out anyway! In fact, this was made very obvious when I ran to my neighbor's house behind us one day, and heard people calling my name. That happened right as I fell, and injured my ankle so badly that I continue to have problems to this day. Shortly following that, we received a package in the mail... The day that I heard people call out to me was not a figment of my imagination. Those people (read: dad's parents and his sister) had actually come to the house to take a photograph and send it to us in the mail with a letter that read, "You can run, but you can't hide. We know where you are." To this day, my parents still have this lovely piece of history.
See, my sister and I never felt like my dad's parents were the definition of 'grandma and grandpa'. No, my mom's parents fit that mold to a tee. I have such wonderful memories of my maternal grandma and grandpa - holidays, birthdays, and summers. The memories I have from my dad's parents were of people who degraded them IN FRONT OF ME AND MY SISTER when we were just little kids. I don't think we were any older than about 7 or 8, and that nasty woman (dad's mother) had the nerve to tell my dad he was a bum, and my mom was a poor excuse for a woman... all because my dad had thrown out his back and was unable to attend his father's retirement party. Talk about awkward as a kid? That woman then had the nerve to insult the gift my sister picked out. So we did what any respectable family would do - we left... and on the way out my sister told that bitch she would give the gift to her grandma and grandpa who she knew would like it. We didn't see them again for another few years.
The next time we saw these people was when his father was "dying". And we soon discovered this was just a ploy to get us to see, and talk to, the family. One thing you need to understand is that these people LOVE to control other people, and their thoughts, opinions etc. No, I don't say this out of paranoia either. Basically, you are either with them, or you are against them (in their eyes).
So, his father was in the hospital and "dying"... this was it. But guess what? It turned out that he was not dying - in fact, he wasn't even close. But, they again got what they wanted. Me, my folks, and sister fell for the bait... and therein started the long, painful next 20 years of this disgusting relationship with his family (and yes, this time it included his brother, nieces, nephews, and in small doses, his sister).
Here are the highlights of those 20 some years... my dad's mother belittling my sister every chance she could on her weight (how fat she was, how she needed to lose weight). Dad's parents inviting themselves along on my parents 10th anniversary trip to Vegas (yeah, they literally booked tickets BEFORE they told my parents they were going with). My dad's parents parading me around as the token grandchild at their 50th wedding anniversary. My dad's brother, sister-in-law, and awful children talking about any, and all other family members/friends behind their backs (and THIS was a tradition of theirs that happened EVERY SINGLE TIME we saw them). His shitty nieces picking on my dating life every time they saw me. My high school graduation that his parents neglected to attend. My sister's high school graduation that his parents neglected to attend. Mine AND my sister's college graduations that his parents neglected to attend. My dad nicely doing side jobs for the family and not getting paid. My dad lending tools to his nephews that were never returned - they just "couldn't find them". My dad got cancer, and nobody (not even his parents) stopped by to visit. My dad's father dying again. My dad's father being a coward, and not defending my dad. My dad's parents making us leave about an hour after we arrived on Christmas Eve because they had plans (despite the fact we CALLED before we left the house to let them know we were on the way). My dad going to his mother's house the day after mother's day only to be told to leave the property by his sister because it was the day AFTER... and his parents who idly stood by while this occurred. The aunts and uncles who eventually stopped with calls, and cards even though there was never any animosity.
That just about brings us to present day. I stopped talking to those terrible people (his parents, brother, sister, nieces and nephews) about 4 years ago after dad had cancer. I was sick of the bullshit - the lies, the deceit, the sheet lack of respect for my parents, myself, and sister. Once I saw how little they respected my father, I was done. No visits, no calls... I think one of his nephews came over ONE time to mow the lawn. That was it. You would think family would help out in a time of need like we did for them - but they didn't. I am glad I stopped communication with them when I did. This was around the time his wonderful brother decided to get involved in a situation between my dad and his sister's asshole son. And it didn't even involve dad's brother... At all. That was the end for my dad, and he ceased ALL communication with his brother from there on out.
And things with his parents only worsened at this point. Here we were again; the black sheep of the family. Quite honestly I never cared... the only thing I DID care about was my folks, and how this affected them. I can tell you this definitely affected my folks. It opened their eyes to the bullshit they were subjected to over the years. But this would pale in comparison to what happened last year.
Remember how I mentioned my dad going to the house for mother's day the day after? Well, that happened last year. I will briefly rewind. The previous Christmas Eve (2011) is the one in which we were basically told to leave because they had plans. They knew we were coming over, yet, made other plans. So, we made as much as we could of the time we had with them. I talked to his mother, and she again asked when I was going to marry... And then I noticed bruises - all up and down her arms. I questioned her, and she hastily replied that she was clumsy. And that was that. Shortly thereafter, dad and I left. That was the last time I have, and ever will, see his parents alive.
Dad actually went back a couple months later to visit. His father was not around at the time, so dad just talked to his mother... and she made some stunning remarks. Remember the bruises I mentioned above? Well, she had more this time when dad saw her... in fact, one of her eyes was slightly blackened. She told my dad that his sister was responsible. She now lived with them, and his mother stated that she hit her. And often. My dad was livid. And his father was nowhere to be found - until my father got up to leave. Instead of, oh, I don't know, cooking lunch for his wife, he went out. His pockets were FULL of Wendy's wrappers which fell out and he went to hang his coat. My dad was sickened. He left.
The next time he went there was the day after mother's day. This was the last time he would ever go there. The fact that his mother told him his sister abused her still stuck in his head. Once his sister decided to tell him he was not welcome there is when dad decided to confront both her and his father about the abuse. While his mother stood there, he asked her 'You told me she hits you. Does she hit you?' To which his mother answered 'Yes.' And do you even know what his father and sister did?? They snickered - they laughed. This was funny to them... which either means dad's mother lied, or his father and sister just didn't care. Either way, dad wanted to do right by this woman... despite all of the years of nasty words, and awful behavior toward my family.
Dad was not going to allow his mother to be abused on his watch. He decided to do the safe thing, and try to get an organization involved. He did speak to an attorney who advised him of how to proceed. My dad filed papers to become her legal guardian so he could protect her against abuse... despite all of the past issues. This is where his brother's harassment started via calls AND hand written notes left at the house. This is also where dad's brother gave dad the nickname of Judas.
When dad went to court, not only was his disgusting sister there, but so was his brother, his awful children, and his wife. I had just started a new job, so I couldn't go... but my sister went with, and got daggers from all of those people. I had even written a letter to the judge to let him know of the bruises I saw... but none of it made a difference. They all banded against dad because well, you know, my dad was just wrong. Nothing like that could happen on their watch. BUT, those people decided to just call it a wash. They didn't even allow the judge to make a ruling... which seems fishy to me.
After court was dismissed, dad's mother tried to talk to him on the way out of the courthouse. When dad tried to reply, his sister shuffled her into the car and basically told dad to fuck off... and then drove away. That was the last time he saw her alive. He tried his damndest to help the woman, and yet, he never personally heard from her again. In fact, we figured we would not hear from ANY of them again... and so we fast forward about 2 months.
Dad's dipshit brother started with his harassment again in the form of phone calls and hand taped notes to the door. It seemed their mother had taken a severe fall... and was hospitalized with multiple injuries. Dad's brother's note said, and I quote 'We need to discuss mother's situation.' Ohhhhh... you mean NOW he wanted to talk to my dad about what was going on, huh? Dad never replied. And continued NOT to reply to any notes left. He blocked phone numbers... all in an attempt to get those people to leave him alone. But I just knew his attempts were made in vain. I knew they were going to try to get in touch even more so since he was blocking contact. And that is just what happened... for the last 4 or 5 months. Many notes were left at the house. A lot of these notes taunted, and criticized my father. They still wanted to control him even after they slapped him in the face. Dad endured it - and then his brother crossed the line. He got their (mom and dad's) village police involved. His brother started to have his children call my dad - the same children he told my dad would never speak to him again. The same children who went to court in their aunt's defense. The same children who abandoned my dad so many times.
This all finally came to a head last week. Another note was left at dad's house. This one stated that dad's mother was at home dying. Dad went back to the police station to tell them of the continued harassment. They told him to call 911 the next time a note was left. But then, just hours later, a police officer showed up at their house to tell my dad about his mother... the same information that was left in the note. Dad again called the police station and told them about the additional harassment. Now they knew he was serious, and told him the next time his brother came to the house that he could press charges.
This now not only affected dad, but it affected all of us. I was tired of these people trying to bully my dad into contact with their family. They pulled this shit on him for years, and I was ready to put a stop to it myself... and then they had to contact me. Last Friday to be exact. One of dad's idiot nephews called me. And I usually don't answer the phone if I don't recognize the phone number. The only reason I did was because I was expecting a grocery delivery, and sometimes they call in advance of the delivery. I should have let it go to voicemail. Dad's nephew identified himself and I immediately told him I was not going to talk to him, and promptly hung up. My blood was boiling. I knew why they were calling. Dad's mother died... They even asked one of my cousins who I DO like to have her son (the other cousin I like) call me to tell me the news. They were trying to involve other family members AGAIN! And even more later on, one of dad's bitch nieces decided to send an email to me, mom, and my sister. I was livid. And I just thank my lucky stars fiancee was around. He centered me. I love that man more than I can even describe. And dad told him he was so glad I had fiancee in my life - to support me through this situation. *sigh*
I guess the point of this post is for me to document this... I have to. I am not crazy, and neither are my parents, or sister. This happened... and I imagine will continue to happen. These people do not know the meaning of family. They proved that to us years ago. All the backstabbing, all of the insults to mine, or my parents, or my sister's face. All of the lies.
I realize that everyone has some drama in their family life. But these people wrote the book! I could go on for hours about the whole situation. I really could. The only people who are considered family in my book are my folks, sister, 2nd and 3rd cousins (some, not all), and my (close) friends. Mom and dad raised me to be a very kind, giving person. And I always have been. Dad would give the shirt off of his back for anyone - he was always like that. These people took that for granted so many times... SO many times. But dad didn't stop. No, not until they made their motives plain as day.
Just because people share your DNA does mean they are family. Just because this woman was my grandmother does not mean I view her in that manner. If anything, I am more angry at how she treated my father when she was alive. She didn't leave him with any positive memories... nor has his father. THAT is what irks me. His brother and sister have tried to bully him for years. What kinda of family is that? I guess in some weird way I feel bad that my dad's mother died... but that doesn't change the way I think of her... which is not with a high regard. That might sound terrible to some people, but believe me when I say do not judge unless you have been in a family with these people. All of those people owe my family apologies that we will never receive. But, I am fine with that. I came to terms with that years ago.
For now, I will focus on MY family, my fiancee, my soon-to-be family, and friends. I will do for those who I love, and who love me back.
I guess I should back up quite a few years, and set all of this up so you better understand. This post is directed toward my father's shitbag immediate family (read: brother, sister, nieces, nephews, and his parents). My dad's family has a history of being back stabbing morons. This was made evident when my dad's sister stole $10k from him, or rather, didn't bother to pay him for a side job he had completed. That $10k was to be the start of mine, and my sister's college fund. Dad always felt guilty because he could not pay for our college tuition. But it wasn't his fault. His parents lied while under oath to protect his slimeball sister. His own brother decided to fall silent despite all the times my dad bailed his sorry ass out... From that point on, we didn't talk to his side of the family for just about 6 or 7 years. No Christmases, no calls - well, except from his c u next Tuesday sister who threatened my mom... Any gifts that were left for my sister and I were promptly returned.
I remember when we moved from one town to another. Dad's dirtbag sister had some strings she could pull in the real estate world. Clearly, we did not inform his family of the move. But guess what? They found out anyway! In fact, this was made very obvious when I ran to my neighbor's house behind us one day, and heard people calling my name. That happened right as I fell, and injured my ankle so badly that I continue to have problems to this day. Shortly following that, we received a package in the mail... The day that I heard people call out to me was not a figment of my imagination. Those people (read: dad's parents and his sister) had actually come to the house to take a photograph and send it to us in the mail with a letter that read, "You can run, but you can't hide. We know where you are." To this day, my parents still have this lovely piece of history.
See, my sister and I never felt like my dad's parents were the definition of 'grandma and grandpa'. No, my mom's parents fit that mold to a tee. I have such wonderful memories of my maternal grandma and grandpa - holidays, birthdays, and summers. The memories I have from my dad's parents were of people who degraded them IN FRONT OF ME AND MY SISTER when we were just little kids. I don't think we were any older than about 7 or 8, and that nasty woman (dad's mother) had the nerve to tell my dad he was a bum, and my mom was a poor excuse for a woman... all because my dad had thrown out his back and was unable to attend his father's retirement party. Talk about awkward as a kid? That woman then had the nerve to insult the gift my sister picked out. So we did what any respectable family would do - we left... and on the way out my sister told that bitch she would give the gift to her grandma and grandpa who she knew would like it. We didn't see them again for another few years.
The next time we saw these people was when his father was "dying". And we soon discovered this was just a ploy to get us to see, and talk to, the family. One thing you need to understand is that these people LOVE to control other people, and their thoughts, opinions etc. No, I don't say this out of paranoia either. Basically, you are either with them, or you are against them (in their eyes).
So, his father was in the hospital and "dying"... this was it. But guess what? It turned out that he was not dying - in fact, he wasn't even close. But, they again got what they wanted. Me, my folks, and sister fell for the bait... and therein started the long, painful next 20 years of this disgusting relationship with his family (and yes, this time it included his brother, nieces, nephews, and in small doses, his sister).
Here are the highlights of those 20 some years... my dad's mother belittling my sister every chance she could on her weight (how fat she was, how she needed to lose weight). Dad's parents inviting themselves along on my parents 10th anniversary trip to Vegas (yeah, they literally booked tickets BEFORE they told my parents they were going with). My dad's parents parading me around as the token grandchild at their 50th wedding anniversary. My dad's brother, sister-in-law, and awful children talking about any, and all other family members/friends behind their backs (and THIS was a tradition of theirs that happened EVERY SINGLE TIME we saw them). His shitty nieces picking on my dating life every time they saw me. My high school graduation that his parents neglected to attend. My sister's high school graduation that his parents neglected to attend. Mine AND my sister's college graduations that his parents neglected to attend. My dad nicely doing side jobs for the family and not getting paid. My dad lending tools to his nephews that were never returned - they just "couldn't find them". My dad got cancer, and nobody (not even his parents) stopped by to visit. My dad's father dying again. My dad's father being a coward, and not defending my dad. My dad's parents making us leave about an hour after we arrived on Christmas Eve because they had plans (despite the fact we CALLED before we left the house to let them know we were on the way). My dad going to his mother's house the day after mother's day only to be told to leave the property by his sister because it was the day AFTER... and his parents who idly stood by while this occurred. The aunts and uncles who eventually stopped with calls, and cards even though there was never any animosity.
That just about brings us to present day. I stopped talking to those terrible people (his parents, brother, sister, nieces and nephews) about 4 years ago after dad had cancer. I was sick of the bullshit - the lies, the deceit, the sheet lack of respect for my parents, myself, and sister. Once I saw how little they respected my father, I was done. No visits, no calls... I think one of his nephews came over ONE time to mow the lawn. That was it. You would think family would help out in a time of need like we did for them - but they didn't. I am glad I stopped communication with them when I did. This was around the time his wonderful brother decided to get involved in a situation between my dad and his sister's asshole son. And it didn't even involve dad's brother... At all. That was the end for my dad, and he ceased ALL communication with his brother from there on out.
And things with his parents only worsened at this point. Here we were again; the black sheep of the family. Quite honestly I never cared... the only thing I DID care about was my folks, and how this affected them. I can tell you this definitely affected my folks. It opened their eyes to the bullshit they were subjected to over the years. But this would pale in comparison to what happened last year.
Remember how I mentioned my dad going to the house for mother's day the day after? Well, that happened last year. I will briefly rewind. The previous Christmas Eve (2011) is the one in which we were basically told to leave because they had plans. They knew we were coming over, yet, made other plans. So, we made as much as we could of the time we had with them. I talked to his mother, and she again asked when I was going to marry... And then I noticed bruises - all up and down her arms. I questioned her, and she hastily replied that she was clumsy. And that was that. Shortly thereafter, dad and I left. That was the last time I have, and ever will, see his parents alive.
Dad actually went back a couple months later to visit. His father was not around at the time, so dad just talked to his mother... and she made some stunning remarks. Remember the bruises I mentioned above? Well, she had more this time when dad saw her... in fact, one of her eyes was slightly blackened. She told my dad that his sister was responsible. She now lived with them, and his mother stated that she hit her. And often. My dad was livid. And his father was nowhere to be found - until my father got up to leave. Instead of, oh, I don't know, cooking lunch for his wife, he went out. His pockets were FULL of Wendy's wrappers which fell out and he went to hang his coat. My dad was sickened. He left.
The next time he went there was the day after mother's day. This was the last time he would ever go there. The fact that his mother told him his sister abused her still stuck in his head. Once his sister decided to tell him he was not welcome there is when dad decided to confront both her and his father about the abuse. While his mother stood there, he asked her 'You told me she hits you. Does she hit you?' To which his mother answered 'Yes.' And do you even know what his father and sister did?? They snickered - they laughed. This was funny to them... which either means dad's mother lied, or his father and sister just didn't care. Either way, dad wanted to do right by this woman... despite all of the years of nasty words, and awful behavior toward my family.
Dad was not going to allow his mother to be abused on his watch. He decided to do the safe thing, and try to get an organization involved. He did speak to an attorney who advised him of how to proceed. My dad filed papers to become her legal guardian so he could protect her against abuse... despite all of the past issues. This is where his brother's harassment started via calls AND hand written notes left at the house. This is also where dad's brother gave dad the nickname of Judas.
When dad went to court, not only was his disgusting sister there, but so was his brother, his awful children, and his wife. I had just started a new job, so I couldn't go... but my sister went with, and got daggers from all of those people. I had even written a letter to the judge to let him know of the bruises I saw... but none of it made a difference. They all banded against dad because well, you know, my dad was just wrong. Nothing like that could happen on their watch. BUT, those people decided to just call it a wash. They didn't even allow the judge to make a ruling... which seems fishy to me.
After court was dismissed, dad's mother tried to talk to him on the way out of the courthouse. When dad tried to reply, his sister shuffled her into the car and basically told dad to fuck off... and then drove away. That was the last time he saw her alive. He tried his damndest to help the woman, and yet, he never personally heard from her again. In fact, we figured we would not hear from ANY of them again... and so we fast forward about 2 months.
Dad's dipshit brother started with his harassment again in the form of phone calls and hand taped notes to the door. It seemed their mother had taken a severe fall... and was hospitalized with multiple injuries. Dad's brother's note said, and I quote 'We need to discuss mother's situation.' Ohhhhh... you mean NOW he wanted to talk to my dad about what was going on, huh? Dad never replied. And continued NOT to reply to any notes left. He blocked phone numbers... all in an attempt to get those people to leave him alone. But I just knew his attempts were made in vain. I knew they were going to try to get in touch even more so since he was blocking contact. And that is just what happened... for the last 4 or 5 months. Many notes were left at the house. A lot of these notes taunted, and criticized my father. They still wanted to control him even after they slapped him in the face. Dad endured it - and then his brother crossed the line. He got their (mom and dad's) village police involved. His brother started to have his children call my dad - the same children he told my dad would never speak to him again. The same children who went to court in their aunt's defense. The same children who abandoned my dad so many times.
This all finally came to a head last week. Another note was left at dad's house. This one stated that dad's mother was at home dying. Dad went back to the police station to tell them of the continued harassment. They told him to call 911 the next time a note was left. But then, just hours later, a police officer showed up at their house to tell my dad about his mother... the same information that was left in the note. Dad again called the police station and told them about the additional harassment. Now they knew he was serious, and told him the next time his brother came to the house that he could press charges.
This now not only affected dad, but it affected all of us. I was tired of these people trying to bully my dad into contact with their family. They pulled this shit on him for years, and I was ready to put a stop to it myself... and then they had to contact me. Last Friday to be exact. One of dad's idiot nephews called me. And I usually don't answer the phone if I don't recognize the phone number. The only reason I did was because I was expecting a grocery delivery, and sometimes they call in advance of the delivery. I should have let it go to voicemail. Dad's nephew identified himself and I immediately told him I was not going to talk to him, and promptly hung up. My blood was boiling. I knew why they were calling. Dad's mother died... They even asked one of my cousins who I DO like to have her son (the other cousin I like) call me to tell me the news. They were trying to involve other family members AGAIN! And even more later on, one of dad's bitch nieces decided to send an email to me, mom, and my sister. I was livid. And I just thank my lucky stars fiancee was around. He centered me. I love that man more than I can even describe. And dad told him he was so glad I had fiancee in my life - to support me through this situation. *sigh*
I guess the point of this post is for me to document this... I have to. I am not crazy, and neither are my parents, or sister. This happened... and I imagine will continue to happen. These people do not know the meaning of family. They proved that to us years ago. All the backstabbing, all of the insults to mine, or my parents, or my sister's face. All of the lies.
I realize that everyone has some drama in their family life. But these people wrote the book! I could go on for hours about the whole situation. I really could. The only people who are considered family in my book are my folks, sister, 2nd and 3rd cousins (some, not all), and my (close) friends. Mom and dad raised me to be a very kind, giving person. And I always have been. Dad would give the shirt off of his back for anyone - he was always like that. These people took that for granted so many times... SO many times. But dad didn't stop. No, not until they made their motives plain as day.
Just because people share your DNA does mean they are family. Just because this woman was my grandmother does not mean I view her in that manner. If anything, I am more angry at how she treated my father when she was alive. She didn't leave him with any positive memories... nor has his father. THAT is what irks me. His brother and sister have tried to bully him for years. What kinda of family is that? I guess in some weird way I feel bad that my dad's mother died... but that doesn't change the way I think of her... which is not with a high regard. That might sound terrible to some people, but believe me when I say do not judge unless you have been in a family with these people. All of those people owe my family apologies that we will never receive. But, I am fine with that. I came to terms with that years ago.
For now, I will focus on MY family, my fiancee, my soon-to-be family, and friends. I will do for those who I love, and who love me back.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
I am an OCD planner
I am not one of those brides-to-be with a countdown until I get married. I don't have a little timer beside my bed at night that makes a tinging sound for each new hour that passes... each new hour which brings me closer to being married. I'm not. Those chicks piss me off. Yes, I talk about my wedding because I am excited. And I love to talk about the planning process, because, well, I am good at this stuff!
All that being said, fiancée and I still have well over a year until our day of bliss. That doesn't mean I can't, or won't, plan ahead.
I am a planner, and organizer, at heart. I have always been, and Lord help us, always will be, this way. Just ask anyone who has ever attended a party I have thrown, or met me and the gang out for karaoke. I throw down. I am the hostess with the mostest. I pretty much rule at life. This also means I plan on throwing the most stellar wedding party known to man! Okay, so that last statement might be a little far fetched, but let me tell you, I will be damned close!
Since fiancée and I are paying for the wedding, I am running a tight ship budget wise. Yes, I am poor white suburban trash for now, but I am okay with that. It just means that I chose to be this way in order to purchase so many of our necessities far in advance! I already got the party favors for the reception, DIY invitations, my wedding dress, ALL of the gifts for the bridesmaids (save for one additional special treat!), a cute gift for both the ring bearer & flower girl, our champagne flutes (personalized), and our cake server set (also personalized). I will also be getting my shoes, wedding jewelry, garter, and ring bearer pillow (unless mom finds hers) in the near future. I know where to look, and I searched high and low for as many great deal as possible. Fiancée even has some great ideas for his groomsmen gifts too! And I will of course help where he needs me to help.
I don't care if anyone thinks I am planning too far in advance, or should wait. Here are my feelings on that topic:
1) It is my wedding
2) If I see a great deal, I refuse to pass it up!
3) I prefer to get as much of the little details sewn up sooner rather thank later. Nothing like not having to scramble at the last second
4) I like to work ahead, and therefore, enjoy knocking projects out of the ballpark
5) It is my wedding
So, if anyone takes issue with that, well, too bad. I am hard pressed to impede on anyone's special day, and expect the same in return! Each bride should plan their wedding the way THEY see fit.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
The Dress Part Deaux... I finally found THE one!
So I posted last week about finding my dress... and I guess I should have posted a month ago about this topic.
Yes, I bought a dress, and yes it was gorgeous! It really was, and I felt like a princess. I thought this dress was it - and I really wanted it to be. And then I looked back at the pictures 2 days ago. My best friend even commented to me that I didn't look super happy in the pics I texted last weekend. I sort of ignored that because I was trying to convince myself. However, after further inspecting "the" dress, mom and I discovered some flaws. So, we had to pack it up to be returned. That is when my head started going in a different direction.
As mentioned here, I even tried on mom's dress (I will post pics of both below). Mom's dress was absolutely stunning - classic, timeless, beautiful. I always wanted to wear her dress ever since I was a little girl. Seeing as I might make that a reality, I grew excited. And then it hit me - no matter what, we would have to make alterations to her dress (if possible) in order to get it to properly fit. The more I thought about this, the less sure I was that I wanted to wear her dress. I realize she saved it in hopes of her children wanting it for their wedding. That being said, I needed to maintain the integrity of her dress. What is my sister decided she wanted to wear it when she got married? Then what?
I sent an email to David's Bridal customer service to initiate the return. I asked if they could send a replacement dress. Seeing as it was Saturday I knew I wouldn't have a reply until at least Monday. Even though I was still on the fence about the DB dress, I ordered a replacement I wanted to ensure I could get the dress before it was out of stock. Much to my surprise, I received a reply to my initial inquiry about a replacement dress - they could do it! In a frantic state, I asked them to cancel my dupe order. They said they could take care of that, and would send confirmation. Mind you, all the while this is taking place, I was STILL on the fence about said dress.
I finally received a confirmation Monday morning at 2am that the dupe order was canceled... but that the dress was out of stock. I think that was the moment reality set in. I needed to look for another dress. I quickly scanned my Pinterest and found it - the dress I was going to buy a month ago. I didn't buy it then because I guess I thought I needed to look around. But, much in the same way I have handled the vendors, I have learned that I just need to go with my gut. I cannot second guess each little detail. Sure, the dress is a HUGE detail. At the same time, it should not cause stress. Finding THE wedding dress should be joyous, and should bring tears to your eyes. I did not shed one tear when I tried on either dress last weekend (hint #1). I also didn't look overly happy in any of the pics (which you will see shortly - hint #2).
THE dress was included in my original post. However, as I said then, I am not going to reveal the choice to my readers until the wedding day has passed :-) I will reveal the dresses I THOUGHT were the ones - the dresses I tried on last weekend.
Ladies, just remember this when you seek out your wedding dress. Don't settle just because you think you found the right choice. Look around some. And at the same time, if something just leaps out at you, and you cannot stop thinking about it, you might have found the dress! Without further ado, here are the dresses that did not make the cut. Make sure to pay special attention to my expressions... I just KNEW these were not quite it.
Yes, I bought a dress, and yes it was gorgeous! It really was, and I felt like a princess. I thought this dress was it - and I really wanted it to be. And then I looked back at the pictures 2 days ago. My best friend even commented to me that I didn't look super happy in the pics I texted last weekend. I sort of ignored that because I was trying to convince myself. However, after further inspecting "the" dress, mom and I discovered some flaws. So, we had to pack it up to be returned. That is when my head started going in a different direction.
As mentioned here, I even tried on mom's dress (I will post pics of both below). Mom's dress was absolutely stunning - classic, timeless, beautiful. I always wanted to wear her dress ever since I was a little girl. Seeing as I might make that a reality, I grew excited. And then it hit me - no matter what, we would have to make alterations to her dress (if possible) in order to get it to properly fit. The more I thought about this, the less sure I was that I wanted to wear her dress. I realize she saved it in hopes of her children wanting it for their wedding. That being said, I needed to maintain the integrity of her dress. What is my sister decided she wanted to wear it when she got married? Then what?
I sent an email to David's Bridal customer service to initiate the return. I asked if they could send a replacement dress. Seeing as it was Saturday I knew I wouldn't have a reply until at least Monday. Even though I was still on the fence about the DB dress, I ordered a replacement I wanted to ensure I could get the dress before it was out of stock. Much to my surprise, I received a reply to my initial inquiry about a replacement dress - they could do it! In a frantic state, I asked them to cancel my dupe order. They said they could take care of that, and would send confirmation. Mind you, all the while this is taking place, I was STILL on the fence about said dress.
I finally received a confirmation Monday morning at 2am that the dupe order was canceled... but that the dress was out of stock. I think that was the moment reality set in. I needed to look for another dress. I quickly scanned my Pinterest and found it - the dress I was going to buy a month ago. I didn't buy it then because I guess I thought I needed to look around. But, much in the same way I have handled the vendors, I have learned that I just need to go with my gut. I cannot second guess each little detail. Sure, the dress is a HUGE detail. At the same time, it should not cause stress. Finding THE wedding dress should be joyous, and should bring tears to your eyes. I did not shed one tear when I tried on either dress last weekend (hint #1). I also didn't look overly happy in any of the pics (which you will see shortly - hint #2).
THE dress was included in my original post. However, as I said then, I am not going to reveal the choice to my readers until the wedding day has passed :-) I will reveal the dresses I THOUGHT were the ones - the dresses I tried on last weekend.
Ladies, just remember this when you seek out your wedding dress. Don't settle just because you think you found the right choice. Look around some. And at the same time, if something just leaps out at you, and you cannot stop thinking about it, you might have found the dress! Without further ado, here are the dresses that did not make the cut. Make sure to pay special attention to my expressions... I just KNEW these were not quite it.
My dress from David's Bridal
Mom's Dress
Monday, February 18, 2013
The Debaucle of the Dresses
The dress arrived to my parents house last Friday. Have I mentioned how giddy I was for this gorgeousness to arrive?? I could hardly contain myself when I got the delivery confirmation text message from UPS. I was at work, and wanted to make a beeline to my parents house right then and there. Alas, I waited... until Saturday morning.
Fiance came with me on the trek to my parents house. We are not going to see each other before the wedding, but I wanted him to come with anyway. I figured he and my dad could hang out and guy bond or something of the like.
The drive seemed to take forever because I was full of anticipation. Would the dress fit? Would it be as beautiful as I had hoped? Was this really THE dress?
Finally, we arrived at the house, and I darted inside. Dad wasn't home, so mom and I hung out with fiance for a couple hours until dad returned. Once dad came inside, mom and I went upstairs... and there was the box. I almost felt like I was in a movie because the sunlight just happened to shine down upon the unopened box. I was nervous. I was scared. But, I was also elated.
Mom and I tore the box open like a couple of ravenous wolves. Once we were done, we kind of paused, and looked at each other. This was the big moment - my mom and I were going to see my wedding dress for the first time together. I am sure a lot of brides cry at this point. However, my mom and I made a couple of snarky remarks, took another breath, and unwrapped the gown.
It was gorgeous! Majestic. Elegant. Perfect. This was the dress! I quickly disrobed, and mom helped me into the gown. It felt like it was so heavy, but once it was on, it felt like a cloud. It really did. And... it fit! Perfectly! Yes, I am in the midst of losing weight, but the dress STILL fit. I twirled a little bit, and mom fanned out the train. It was just... it was magic. I felt like a princess, and a bride-to-be all in one.
Mom snapped some pictures for me, and I began to send some to the girls who will be part of the bridal party. Every last one of them approved, and told me how beautiful I looked. I was still in shock, and awe. I had just tried on a wedding dress. And it was perfect.
I always knew I wanted to wear the cap from my mom's dress. For all intents, and purposes, I really wanted to wear her dress... but mom was tiny - 5'4" tall, and 119 lbs. I am 5'9" and have about 50 pounds at present on her wedding day weight. I never thought it would be a possibility. Mom asked me again if I wanted to try on her dress anyway - just to see. I took a deep breath and told her that was really up to her since the dress was vacuum packed away for the last 37 years. We himmed, and hawed for about 10 minutes, and finally she looked at me and said 'Let'd do this. I packed it away in hopes one of my daughter's would someday wear my dress. You know you want the cap, so we might as well check it out.' And, so began the task of unwrapping her dress.
It felt like we unwrapped history. And then, I saw the dress. Mom's dress - wow. Breathtaking! I was terrified to take it out of the box, and almost immediately regretted the decision. But, as mom helped put the gown over my head, it seemed to fit. It was REALLY gong to fit - at least most of the way. Seeing the height and weight differences, I knew the dress would not zip the whole way... and it didn't. But, we did get it to zip halfway up. And it was just as gorgeous as the dress I bought. It was elegant, and classic. It was just beautiful.
Mom took some more pictures, and I was stunned at how amazing her dress really was! We knew that I am working my butt off to keep losing weight, but wanted to know if me wearing the dress was a legitimate possibility. I contacted my girlfriend (who is also a seamstress), and sent some pictures to find out. Looks like we will know more this coming Saturday.
At this point, I am torn. I want to wear mom's dress, but I also want to preserve its integrity. I am nervous that in having it altered, the dress will not be the same. On the other hand, I do want something of my own. The dress I bought is simply stunning. I don't know what I will decide, but either way, I am more than confident I will look the way I want to look when I walk down the aisle to take fiance's hand in marriage.
Have any of you brides out there had this quandary?
Fiance came with me on the trek to my parents house. We are not going to see each other before the wedding, but I wanted him to come with anyway. I figured he and my dad could hang out and guy bond or something of the like.
The drive seemed to take forever because I was full of anticipation. Would the dress fit? Would it be as beautiful as I had hoped? Was this really THE dress?
Finally, we arrived at the house, and I darted inside. Dad wasn't home, so mom and I hung out with fiance for a couple hours until dad returned. Once dad came inside, mom and I went upstairs... and there was the box. I almost felt like I was in a movie because the sunlight just happened to shine down upon the unopened box. I was nervous. I was scared. But, I was also elated.
Mom and I tore the box open like a couple of ravenous wolves. Once we were done, we kind of paused, and looked at each other. This was the big moment - my mom and I were going to see my wedding dress for the first time together. I am sure a lot of brides cry at this point. However, my mom and I made a couple of snarky remarks, took another breath, and unwrapped the gown.
It was gorgeous! Majestic. Elegant. Perfect. This was the dress! I quickly disrobed, and mom helped me into the gown. It felt like it was so heavy, but once it was on, it felt like a cloud. It really did. And... it fit! Perfectly! Yes, I am in the midst of losing weight, but the dress STILL fit. I twirled a little bit, and mom fanned out the train. It was just... it was magic. I felt like a princess, and a bride-to-be all in one.
Mom snapped some pictures for me, and I began to send some to the girls who will be part of the bridal party. Every last one of them approved, and told me how beautiful I looked. I was still in shock, and awe. I had just tried on a wedding dress. And it was perfect.
I always knew I wanted to wear the cap from my mom's dress. For all intents, and purposes, I really wanted to wear her dress... but mom was tiny - 5'4" tall, and 119 lbs. I am 5'9" and have about 50 pounds at present on her wedding day weight. I never thought it would be a possibility. Mom asked me again if I wanted to try on her dress anyway - just to see. I took a deep breath and told her that was really up to her since the dress was vacuum packed away for the last 37 years. We himmed, and hawed for about 10 minutes, and finally she looked at me and said 'Let'd do this. I packed it away in hopes one of my daughter's would someday wear my dress. You know you want the cap, so we might as well check it out.' And, so began the task of unwrapping her dress.
It felt like we unwrapped history. And then, I saw the dress. Mom's dress - wow. Breathtaking! I was terrified to take it out of the box, and almost immediately regretted the decision. But, as mom helped put the gown over my head, it seemed to fit. It was REALLY gong to fit - at least most of the way. Seeing the height and weight differences, I knew the dress would not zip the whole way... and it didn't. But, we did get it to zip halfway up. And it was just as gorgeous as the dress I bought. It was elegant, and classic. It was just beautiful.
Mom took some more pictures, and I was stunned at how amazing her dress really was! We knew that I am working my butt off to keep losing weight, but wanted to know if me wearing the dress was a legitimate possibility. I contacted my girlfriend (who is also a seamstress), and sent some pictures to find out. Looks like we will know more this coming Saturday.
At this point, I am torn. I want to wear mom's dress, but I also want to preserve its integrity. I am nervous that in having it altered, the dress will not be the same. On the other hand, I do want something of my own. The dress I bought is simply stunning. I don't know what I will decide, but either way, I am more than confident I will look the way I want to look when I walk down the aisle to take fiance's hand in marriage.
Have any of you brides out there had this quandary?
Thursday, February 14, 2013
A Valentines Day Anecdote
It was a year ago today that I said I would not "celebrate" this day. I was dating a man who was separated, and headed for divorce. We weren't even supposed to see each other on Valentines Day because we had plans for the following evening. But, he suggested catching a movie, and I wanted to see him. So, I agreed.
However, seeing as it was Valentines Day, I wanted to do something kind of cute, and not TOO over the top (since we had only been seeing each other for a month). I stopped at Walgreens on the way home in search of a card... nothing too mushy, but something that was humorously cute, and playful. I found said card, signed it 'Love, Dana', and sealed the envelope. I thought it harmless... but that didn't mean I was not nervous as Hell to give it to him.
He picked me up, and we headed for the movie. I was still a bit nervous, but we had a nice conversation on the drive. I can't recall which movie we saw, but whatever it was, I remember we were happy with the choice. I was still a bit nervous throughout the movie because I had "the card" for him in my purse. I wanted to give it to him pre-movie, but decided it would be cooler to wait until the end of our date.
Once we left the theater, and got into the car, I opened my purse. We were stopped at a red light, so I handed him the card. I had a smile on my face, and was giddy to see his response. He opened the card, read it, placed it back into the envelope, and said 'I thought we weren't going to acknowledge this day.' I recall that I dumbly looked at him as I said 'What?' And that was the beginning of the end of the nice gesture. Words kept coming out of his mouth, and I legitimately wanted to punch him in the Adam's apple. He continued on about how it was a Hallmark holiday blah blah... and then, at the end of the diatribe, finally thanked me for the card. I told him it was awkward as I haphazardly tried to turn away from him in my seat in the car. I told him I could take the card back. He said no, he really liked it, and I wanted to punch him even more. I then told him that he was jaded, and needed to get over whatever shit he was stuck on from his marriage. He didn't know what to say. He mumbled an apology and said something along the lines that he 'needed to just shut his mouth and stop talking.' I looked at him and agreed that it was the best idea he had had all night.
He arrived at my apartment, and I opened the car door to exit. He tried to apologize again, and I looked him square in the eye and said that 'it was okay because I now knew not to get him any cards in the future.' I closed the car door, and proceeded to walk into my apartment.
Clearly, everyone, this is NOT the man I am going to marry next year. This should have tipped me off at the time, but I continued to date him for another month... and THEN I met my future husband. The moral of this story is when you feel like you want to punch someone in the throat that early on into a relationship, it is probably best to part ways.
I hope you all have a great Valentines Day regardless of being single, married, divorced - whatever! Take this day (and really, EVERY day) to let the people in your lives know that you love them.
However, seeing as it was Valentines Day, I wanted to do something kind of cute, and not TOO over the top (since we had only been seeing each other for a month). I stopped at Walgreens on the way home in search of a card... nothing too mushy, but something that was humorously cute, and playful. I found said card, signed it 'Love, Dana', and sealed the envelope. I thought it harmless... but that didn't mean I was not nervous as Hell to give it to him.
He picked me up, and we headed for the movie. I was still a bit nervous, but we had a nice conversation on the drive. I can't recall which movie we saw, but whatever it was, I remember we were happy with the choice. I was still a bit nervous throughout the movie because I had "the card" for him in my purse. I wanted to give it to him pre-movie, but decided it would be cooler to wait until the end of our date.
Once we left the theater, and got into the car, I opened my purse. We were stopped at a red light, so I handed him the card. I had a smile on my face, and was giddy to see his response. He opened the card, read it, placed it back into the envelope, and said 'I thought we weren't going to acknowledge this day.' I recall that I dumbly looked at him as I said 'What?' And that was the beginning of the end of the nice gesture. Words kept coming out of his mouth, and I legitimately wanted to punch him in the Adam's apple. He continued on about how it was a Hallmark holiday blah blah... and then, at the end of the diatribe, finally thanked me for the card. I told him it was awkward as I haphazardly tried to turn away from him in my seat in the car. I told him I could take the card back. He said no, he really liked it, and I wanted to punch him even more. I then told him that he was jaded, and needed to get over whatever shit he was stuck on from his marriage. He didn't know what to say. He mumbled an apology and said something along the lines that he 'needed to just shut his mouth and stop talking.' I looked at him and agreed that it was the best idea he had had all night.
He arrived at my apartment, and I opened the car door to exit. He tried to apologize again, and I looked him square in the eye and said that 'it was okay because I now knew not to get him any cards in the future.' I closed the car door, and proceeded to walk into my apartment.
Clearly, everyone, this is NOT the man I am going to marry next year. This should have tipped me off at the time, but I continued to date him for another month... and THEN I met my future husband. The moral of this story is when you feel like you want to punch someone in the throat that early on into a relationship, it is probably best to part ways.
I hope you all have a great Valentines Day regardless of being single, married, divorced - whatever! Take this day (and really, EVERY day) to let the people in your lives know that you love them.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
The dress
I officially found my bride bone. To be exact, it happened yesterday afternoon at approximately 3:30pm while still at work.
I had previously sent my mom, and sister, an email chock full of links to potential wedding dresses. At this point, I was still questioning whether or not I had an "inner bride." Sure, all of the large bookings have already been completed (e.g. DJ, videographer, venue, photographer) well in advance of our May 2014 wedding. I've been feeling accomplished, relieved... And I had planned on taking a breather before looking for any dress - mine, and the bridesmaids included. Regardless, for fun, I still pulled the trigger and sent mom and sis the email.
I got great feedback from both of them. My sister picked some beautiful dresses that were not on my list BUT were not my style. My mom had some wonderful opinions too... and then she said the magic words; 'it IS beautiful.' I knew I needed to act - and act fast! The retailer only had select stock left, and I wanted to get my bridal hands all over it before it was sold out. No, I was not going to wait to go to the store and try it on... I wanted THAT dress... and I had to get it!
So, I pulled the trigger, entered in my credit card number online, and voila! My dress will be delivered by next week. I am still almost in disbelief that I bought a wedding dress - for MY wedding. And now enter the extended bridal bone. I am giddy as all Hell, and stoked to be with my mom, and sister when I try it on. I am going to wear my mom's headpiece with the dress. It is going to be gorgeous. Yes, I am still losing weight (and doing pretty well I might add), but am not worried about getting the dress taken in... because isn't that the thing? You can get dresses taken in, but RARELY taken out.
*swooning* The dress is perfect. It fits my theme. It fits my style... and it grew on me. It was not the first choice, but simply A choice. But now, it is THE choice. You know how they say you just know when you meet "the one"? Well, I just knew this was the dress.
Without further ado, here were the choices. And Hell no I am not telling you which one I picked :-) You will need to wait until May 17, 2014 to find out for sure. Just know the real deal is in the mix somewhere. Enjoy!
I had previously sent my mom, and sister, an email chock full of links to potential wedding dresses. At this point, I was still questioning whether or not I had an "inner bride." Sure, all of the large bookings have already been completed (e.g. DJ, videographer, venue, photographer) well in advance of our May 2014 wedding. I've been feeling accomplished, relieved... And I had planned on taking a breather before looking for any dress - mine, and the bridesmaids included. Regardless, for fun, I still pulled the trigger and sent mom and sis the email.
I got great feedback from both of them. My sister picked some beautiful dresses that were not on my list BUT were not my style. My mom had some wonderful opinions too... and then she said the magic words; 'it IS beautiful.' I knew I needed to act - and act fast! The retailer only had select stock left, and I wanted to get my bridal hands all over it before it was sold out. No, I was not going to wait to go to the store and try it on... I wanted THAT dress... and I had to get it!
So, I pulled the trigger, entered in my credit card number online, and voila! My dress will be delivered by next week. I am still almost in disbelief that I bought a wedding dress - for MY wedding. And now enter the extended bridal bone. I am giddy as all Hell, and stoked to be with my mom, and sister when I try it on. I am going to wear my mom's headpiece with the dress. It is going to be gorgeous. Yes, I am still losing weight (and doing pretty well I might add), but am not worried about getting the dress taken in... because isn't that the thing? You can get dresses taken in, but RARELY taken out.
*swooning* The dress is perfect. It fits my theme. It fits my style... and it grew on me. It was not the first choice, but simply A choice. But now, it is THE choice. You know how they say you just know when you meet "the one"? Well, I just knew this was the dress.
Without further ado, here were the choices. And Hell no I am not telling you which one I picked :-) You will need to wait until May 17, 2014 to find out for sure. Just know the real deal is in the mix somewhere. Enjoy!
Friday, February 8, 2013
I never thought I would be "that" girl again
You know who I am talking about... those girls who are attached to their man. The girls who cannot go a second without thinking of said man. The girls who want to be around their man all the time.
I used to be that girl.
I did.
But then I hardened the eff up after some really bad breakups. Sure, I dated men, and developed feelings, and cared about them... but I never allowed it (at least on my end) to reach THAT level. I couldn't. Something inside of me stopped myself; be it the possibility of disappointment, or heartbreak. In doing this, I found that I wasn't AS hurt when things would end (because, well, they always did end). I became a professional emotional recluse. At least on the outside...
And then I went to therapy. I got my head on straight. And then I met fiance. After that, it all changed. My walls came down like never before. I let him know who I was - I let him in on the real ME. This time, the person didn't leave. In fact, he stuck around, and now we are getting married. This man has been nothing short of patient, honest, and giving with me. And I have given him the same in return. I just love him. Plain and simple.
Which brings us to the other day... the reason for my post. I knew he was going to be taking a trip for months. I did. But, I dreaded the day. I didn't realize how much until he prepared to leave yesterday morning.
Short of begging him not to leave, I kept telling him I did not want him to go on this trip. I almost felt panicked. I KNOW he is coming back - I really do. But I started to just feel panic. I wasn't going to see him for him for almost five days. We have not NOT seen each for five days - ever. Not even when we first started dating. Two, or three days max, but not five. I couldn't fathom the idea... which is why I started bawling; little-kid-having-a-tantrum bawling. I must have hugged and kissed him a dozen times before he left. And then after he walked out the door, I cried even harder for about a good 15 minutes. He was gone - I was alone for a few days. Let the suckdom begin.
It just goes to show that I AM that girl at heart. And I am okay being that girl. I love this man so much I don't know what I would do without him - I really don't. He (as lame-o as this sounds) completes my other half. I am in the kind of love that sickens some people, but you know what? I don't care. I am happy, and quite honestly, that is all that matters to me. So, you can call me "that" girl - but just know that I wear that badge with pride.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
What is love?
I first fell in "love" freshman year in high school - hard. There was a boy I would always see at the roller rink the summer before I started high school, and he was so good! And cute! Even with his little rat tail. Then, we finally got to legitimately meet my freshman year in high school. He had a girlfriend, and I think the story goes that he either cheated on her, or dumped her for me. It is a little foggy seeing as that happened 20 years ago. Either way, we wound up dating, and I was in L O V E. I swore we were going to get married when we were of age. And then the bottom dropped out. I found out he cheated on me, and things quickly went South. My 14 year old heart was broken. I thought I would never move on... but I did.
Then came freshman year in college. I met this cute art boy at the radio station (as I DJed in college for my first 2 years). He was funny, cute, artsy, cute, and I was smitten. We dated for a while - about 8 months. I was convinced THIS was the guy I was destined to marry. Well, we broke up right before the summer. I was crushed. I literally begged for this kid to give me another chance. And then he shipped off to basic Navy training. I wrote him every day, and he the same. We swore we were going to get married, and I started plans to either 1) also join the Navy because they "promised" I would be stationed near him (they tested me and I was off the charts good!), or 2) move to Virginia, and finish college there. And then get married. Yeah, that didn't happen. We were splitsville about 6 months into us getting back together. He wound up starting over again with the chick he was with before we ever even met. Failed marriage attempt number 2.
Then came junior year in college. It was my first semester of going away to college. I dated a couple of people, and it didn't work out. Then, I met a smart ass kid in one of my classes. He was cute - kinda douchey in a 'I am gonna throw around my macho attitude' kinda way. But, I liked him. We started to get to know each other better. We would meet up after class, have a smoke, and chat. He even came over a few times when I was grilling to hang out and have some beer and grub. We even met up for coffee. I was starting to fall for this guy - and this was legitimately the first time I KNOW I was head over heels in love with someone. I was 21 so it was going to be different this time. Lucky number 3 dumped the chick he was seeing to exclusively be with me. He was funny, romantic, and best of all, in love with me! He started telling our friends, and family, that we were going to get married after our college graduation the following year... that we were going to be a happily ever after. And we were - until he cheated on me. We broke up, and my world fell apart. I was crushed, away at college, and felt lifeless. I was depressed for months, and thought I would never get over him. To be perfectly honest, this relationship haunted me for years after. I had dreams every so often of this guy. I even saw him a few times while driving in the city. It was crazy.
But, when I was almost 24, I met someone... someone who was 8 years my senior. He was kind, and treated me pretty darned well for the most part. He was there for me through a really traumatic experience (which brought up some past crap) and stayed by my side. We loved each other - although, I know (on my end) it was not the heartbreaking love I had previously experienced. We dated for 3 years. He was set - set in his ways, his lifestyle, who he was. And that is fine. But I wanted more. We talked about getting married, but he was always wishy washy; one minute he wanted to get married, and the next it was just a piece of paper. We had even talked about kids at one point. But deep down, I just knew we would never go down that path. I even agreed to move in with him, thinking it would mend the things I saw wrong with us. Truth is, it only made them worse... worse because I was with him on a daily basis. And that is when you really get a better sense of who someone really is. Not that he was cruel, or mean, or anything like that. He was just... set. I knew I needed more. After almost 6 months of living together, I decided to move into Chicago. And, like someone who had ESP, or was a government spy, junior year college relationship guy came back into the picture...
Seriously, he found me on MySpace... and we stupidly rekindled a "relationship". Are you surprised to know he is NOT the man I am marrying?? It was the same thing again - he broke things off with a gal he was dating to be with me. Things with us were great! He went back to telling my parents, sister, and friends that we were going to be together, and he wouldn't mess it up this time... and ultimately, he did. And I stupidly believed that we could have worked out a second time.
Hell, I could go on for days about some of the other men I dated after this... but I won't. Reason being because I repeated silly patterns, and put myself out there for people who did not deserve my time, or affection. I am not bitter, nor am I upset. That was my experience. And then I finally got my act together, and went to therapy at the very end of 2011. That helped me learn, and grow, and realize what I TRULY deserved out of a relationship with a man. Shit, it made me realize what I deserved PERIOD! It helped me understand that certain things in life were not my fault, and that I needed to forgive, and love myself first. This was the best gift I could have ever given myself - therapy, and a new start.
The point is love is not something that can be forced. Love is also not something that should be said to make someone else happy, or to get what someone wants. When you REALLY love someone, you just know. When I met fiance, I just knew he was/is the man I am supposed to marry. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, have babies, and grow old together. Fiance makes me happy - he is my other half. I didn't have to beg to be with him, and I didn't have to fight an uphill battle. We compliment each other in every way. I love him more as each day passes, and cannot imagine my life without this man. THAT is what love truly is...
Then came freshman year in college. I met this cute art boy at the radio station (as I DJed in college for my first 2 years). He was funny, cute, artsy, cute, and I was smitten. We dated for a while - about 8 months. I was convinced THIS was the guy I was destined to marry. Well, we broke up right before the summer. I was crushed. I literally begged for this kid to give me another chance. And then he shipped off to basic Navy training. I wrote him every day, and he the same. We swore we were going to get married, and I started plans to either 1) also join the Navy because they "promised" I would be stationed near him (they tested me and I was off the charts good!), or 2) move to Virginia, and finish college there. And then get married. Yeah, that didn't happen. We were splitsville about 6 months into us getting back together. He wound up starting over again with the chick he was with before we ever even met. Failed marriage attempt number 2.
Then came junior year in college. It was my first semester of going away to college. I dated a couple of people, and it didn't work out. Then, I met a smart ass kid in one of my classes. He was cute - kinda douchey in a 'I am gonna throw around my macho attitude' kinda way. But, I liked him. We started to get to know each other better. We would meet up after class, have a smoke, and chat. He even came over a few times when I was grilling to hang out and have some beer and grub. We even met up for coffee. I was starting to fall for this guy - and this was legitimately the first time I KNOW I was head over heels in love with someone. I was 21 so it was going to be different this time. Lucky number 3 dumped the chick he was seeing to exclusively be with me. He was funny, romantic, and best of all, in love with me! He started telling our friends, and family, that we were going to get married after our college graduation the following year... that we were going to be a happily ever after. And we were - until he cheated on me. We broke up, and my world fell apart. I was crushed, away at college, and felt lifeless. I was depressed for months, and thought I would never get over him. To be perfectly honest, this relationship haunted me for years after. I had dreams every so often of this guy. I even saw him a few times while driving in the city. It was crazy.
But, when I was almost 24, I met someone... someone who was 8 years my senior. He was kind, and treated me pretty darned well for the most part. He was there for me through a really traumatic experience (which brought up some past crap) and stayed by my side. We loved each other - although, I know (on my end) it was not the heartbreaking love I had previously experienced. We dated for 3 years. He was set - set in his ways, his lifestyle, who he was. And that is fine. But I wanted more. We talked about getting married, but he was always wishy washy; one minute he wanted to get married, and the next it was just a piece of paper. We had even talked about kids at one point. But deep down, I just knew we would never go down that path. I even agreed to move in with him, thinking it would mend the things I saw wrong with us. Truth is, it only made them worse... worse because I was with him on a daily basis. And that is when you really get a better sense of who someone really is. Not that he was cruel, or mean, or anything like that. He was just... set. I knew I needed more. After almost 6 months of living together, I decided to move into Chicago. And, like someone who had ESP, or was a government spy, junior year college relationship guy came back into the picture...
Seriously, he found me on MySpace... and we stupidly rekindled a "relationship". Are you surprised to know he is NOT the man I am marrying?? It was the same thing again - he broke things off with a gal he was dating to be with me. Things with us were great! He went back to telling my parents, sister, and friends that we were going to be together, and he wouldn't mess it up this time... and ultimately, he did. And I stupidly believed that we could have worked out a second time.
Hell, I could go on for days about some of the other men I dated after this... but I won't. Reason being because I repeated silly patterns, and put myself out there for people who did not deserve my time, or affection. I am not bitter, nor am I upset. That was my experience. And then I finally got my act together, and went to therapy at the very end of 2011. That helped me learn, and grow, and realize what I TRULY deserved out of a relationship with a man. Shit, it made me realize what I deserved PERIOD! It helped me understand that certain things in life were not my fault, and that I needed to forgive, and love myself first. This was the best gift I could have ever given myself - therapy, and a new start.
The point is love is not something that can be forced. Love is also not something that should be said to make someone else happy, or to get what someone wants. When you REALLY love someone, you just know. When I met fiance, I just knew he was/is the man I am supposed to marry. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, have babies, and grow old together. Fiance makes me happy - he is my other half. I didn't have to beg to be with him, and I didn't have to fight an uphill battle. We compliment each other in every way. I love him more as each day passes, and cannot imagine my life without this man. THAT is what love truly is...
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