I am aware that there's a lot of 'competition' amongst women. Recently, I have noticed it specifically regarding wedding stuff. The judgments passed among women about weddings they've seen or been to. How this was tacky, or that was cheap. How her dress didn't have enough beads, or how they should have had flowers in the church. To this end, I am very aware that when writing about the wedding Nic and I went to last night, that these are not judgments based on the 'worth' of the wedding, but based on my own personal tastes.
Because here's the thing; the bride and groom were glowingly happy. In their speeches they thanked everyone for making this such a special day. How everything was perfect and beautiful. And that's the important thing. And I am sick of people competing and judging and saying what should and shouldn't happen. And I know that, compared to the wedding we attended yesterday, ours is going to blow people's minds.
Showing posts with label maybe i don't want to be normal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label maybe i don't want to be normal. Show all posts
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
i am not a bride...
What's up with all the super melodramatic post titles??
So...
The wedding is still about 21 months out. But I'm a bit of an obsessive planner and have already figured that I'm probably not going to find my 'perfect dress' at a bridal store- especially considering the lack of any interesting, affordable designers down here (at least from what I've found/what I like). But, I thought that since this means I'll probably be designing the thing, I'd better figure out what looks good, and what I like. Which is difficult, because when it came to it, I didn't really like anything.
Nic and I went to a new bridal store today that also hires out the dresses, doing minor alterations, etc. My goal is to find/make/have made a dress under $800. It seems the average cost from a store in Australia is about $2k. So, ha, that isn't so hot. Not only that, but I'm of the simple-whimsical-flowy-chiffon-semi-vintage type thing and have just looked at so, so, so many dresses online that I feel like I've lost a sense of what I like. Plus I'm trying so hard to figure out what is going to be my 'style', but how can you possibly do that with a dress you'll wear for the big daaaaaaaayyy? I don't know- I can't see any of us wearing the dresses we buy as part of our 'style'. But anyway, at this store I probably tried on about 8 dresses. The two ladies there were very helpful and not pushy (hurrah), but ultimately probably got frustrated with me. Hell, I got frustrated with me.
But it came down to the fact that I felt awkward in them, I didn't feel like they were 'me', and that I was playing bride. So I have about a million photos of 'dresses I kinda like', so I think maybe I'll go through and make a list of common 'themes' and try and mash them together and see what I get. ;)
So...
The wedding is still about 21 months out. But I'm a bit of an obsessive planner and have already figured that I'm probably not going to find my 'perfect dress' at a bridal store- especially considering the lack of any interesting, affordable designers down here (at least from what I've found/what I like). But, I thought that since this means I'll probably be designing the thing, I'd better figure out what looks good, and what I like. Which is difficult, because when it came to it, I didn't really like anything.
Nic and I went to a new bridal store today that also hires out the dresses, doing minor alterations, etc. My goal is to find/make/have made a dress under $800. It seems the average cost from a store in Australia is about $2k. So, ha, that isn't so hot. Not only that, but I'm of the simple-whimsical-flowy-chiffon-semi-vintage type thing and have just looked at so, so, so many dresses online that I feel like I've lost a sense of what I like. Plus I'm trying so hard to figure out what is going to be my 'style', but how can you possibly do that with a dress you'll wear for the big daaaaaaaayyy? I don't know- I can't see any of us wearing the dresses we buy as part of our 'style'. But anyway, at this store I probably tried on about 8 dresses. The two ladies there were very helpful and not pushy (hurrah), but ultimately probably got frustrated with me. Hell, I got frustrated with me.
But it came down to the fact that I felt awkward in them, I didn't feel like they were 'me', and that I was playing bride. So I have about a million photos of 'dresses I kinda like', so I think maybe I'll go through and make a list of common 'themes' and try and mash them together and see what I get. ;)
Meet cynical-Em, post dress trying on many dresses and becoming disenchanted.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
you don't... want... children...?!!?
Lookit me go! I'm on a blogging roll. Thank God someone at work showed me how to get internet access beyond theage.com.au
So, I don't want children. Not real ones- I have my furkids, they're pretty awesome. It's like a bit of a joke, people say: "So, when's the wedding? And when's the baby?" And I don't think they're trying to insult me, post-America-stomach and all, but I think it's that natural progression- Boyfriend->Fiance->Wedding->Baby.
Which is fine.
For people wanting that.
And then I say I don't want kids. And people look shocked. How dare I?! I haven't finished Uni yet... if I were to follow the timeline here, I would have spent 5 years studying, 1 year teaching, then be into babymaking. Then, say goodbye to adventures for at least the first however many years... goodbye to get-up-and-go travel, to long travel, to financial freedom, to time to ourselves... And I don't want that. It's enough having Mallei and Reya- if we go away, somebody has to look after them, or we board them... we can't just go for the night anymore since Mallei needs to be fed and to go outside... I've had the "we'll see..." lecture a bunch of times. The other day I explained my thoughts to somebody, and ended with this:
"Maybe that's selfish, I don't know."
And I regretted saying that the minute it had come out.
Because who's it selfish to? It's selfish to something that doesn't exist. To an idea. To my ovaries? To my Mum, for not supplying her with grandchildren? (I'm sure my brother will)... It's not selfish. It's what I want. You can't be selfish to something that isn't.
If I had kids, I think my great delights would be in naming them stupid names. Like... Zebra. Or Aaron Abr--(my surname) so they're ALWAYS called first in roll-call. I don't think that's a good, reasonable, or responsible reason to have children.
And I'm happy with my pets. I'm happy cuddling them, and smelling their fur, and crying on them and having them lick my tears. Except Reya. She thinks the salt is tasty and my eyebrows are catterpillars and she just wants to claw out my eyeballs and eat my face.... She's a lovely kitten. But, you know... we take Mallei with us when we go hiking, if we can.We run, walk, explore, climb, boulder.. and he comes. Reya cuddles up and sleeps on my chest while we watch tv. We feed them, wash them, love them. We take them to the emergency vet because they've done something stupid and cry with worry.
It's funny, I bet nobody asks Nic when we're having kids... I was about to write that I don't know why I'm the one being held responsible... then I thought that was stupid, and then realised that no, it isn't stupid. Just because I can BEAR children doesn't mean that I'm the only one in charge of having them! (It's a team effort, after all) If we were to have kids it would be as much his decision as it is mine... yet everybody asks me and (I could be wrong), I don't imagine anyone would ask him. Stupid gender roles.
So, I don't want children. Not real ones- I have my furkids, they're pretty awesome. It's like a bit of a joke, people say: "So, when's the wedding? And when's the baby?" And I don't think they're trying to insult me, post-America-stomach and all, but I think it's that natural progression- Boyfriend->Fiance->Wedding->Baby.
Which is fine.
For people wanting that.
And then I say I don't want kids. And people look shocked. How dare I?! I haven't finished Uni yet... if I were to follow the timeline here, I would have spent 5 years studying, 1 year teaching, then be into babymaking. Then, say goodbye to adventures for at least the first however many years... goodbye to get-up-and-go travel, to long travel, to financial freedom, to time to ourselves... And I don't want that. It's enough having Mallei and Reya- if we go away, somebody has to look after them, or we board them... we can't just go for the night anymore since Mallei needs to be fed and to go outside... I've had the "we'll see..." lecture a bunch of times. The other day I explained my thoughts to somebody, and ended with this:
"Maybe that's selfish, I don't know."
And I regretted saying that the minute it had come out.
Because who's it selfish to? It's selfish to something that doesn't exist. To an idea. To my ovaries? To my Mum, for not supplying her with grandchildren? (I'm sure my brother will)... It's not selfish. It's what I want. You can't be selfish to something that isn't.
If I had kids, I think my great delights would be in naming them stupid names. Like... Zebra. Or Aaron Abr--(my surname) so they're ALWAYS called first in roll-call. I don't think that's a good, reasonable, or responsible reason to have children.
And I'm happy with my pets. I'm happy cuddling them, and smelling their fur, and crying on them and having them lick my tears. Except Reya. She thinks the salt is tasty and my eyebrows are catterpillars and she just wants to claw out my eyeballs and eat my face.... She's a lovely kitten. But, you know... we take Mallei with us when we go hiking, if we can.We run, walk, explore, climb, boulder.. and he comes. Reya cuddles up and sleeps on my chest while we watch tv. We feed them, wash them, love them. We take them to the emergency vet because they've done something stupid and cry with worry.
It's funny, I bet nobody asks Nic when we're having kids... I was about to write that I don't know why I'm the one being held responsible... then I thought that was stupid, and then realised that no, it isn't stupid. Just because I can BEAR children doesn't mean that I'm the only one in charge of having them! (It's a team effort, after all) If we were to have kids it would be as much his decision as it is mine... yet everybody asks me and (I could be wrong), I don't imagine anyone would ask him. Stupid gender roles.
Monday, December 27, 2010
on being normal... or why I don't get smashed at work parties.
Just before Christmas there were two Christmas parties for work- one for the whole company, so where a couple of hundred people I don't know would have gone to get drunk and try and sleep with one another.
The other party was just for our section of the company, so Nic wouldn't have been allowed to come. There was two hours of free drinks provided.
The first, people didn't mind so much that I didn't go, because hardly anyone from our team went. The second, I'd given an indication that I might go, but only until finished work (so I'd be there from about 4.30 to 6ish, then we'd leave. We were driving home together). I don't really drink. They tend to have 'drinks runs' at work on Friday arvo, where people spend their pay on a 6 pack (or whatever), drink it at work, then go home. I don't think I've ever bought drinks in a drinks run. I don't go out, and I never really have. So I'm getting pressure from co-workers to go to this party, get smashed, go crazy. I go, I'll say, but not for long. To which they give me a look. Like I'm being deprived.
When I said I didn't think I'd go to one girl, she looks astonished and says: "Just come out and be SOCIAL!"
And I think about the coffee I'd had with a friend the evening before and wonder how or why that is any less social than going out, getting so intoxicated that you don't make any sense, make a fool of yourself, fall asleep in a pile of drool, and wake up not remembering a thing. Because let's face it, that's what they're taking about. It's not a sophisticated wine at a clean bar somewhere- it's a divey pub with sticky floors.
Maybe I should have gone and said hello, but then as soon as I said I was leaving, I would have gotten the same treatment.
In the end, I was watching people getting ready- a flurry of activity as girls madly straightened their hair in the bathroom, boys smoked outside and cracked open their third can of JD and coke (at 4.30pm, mind you)... and then girls started applying concealer to mosquito bites on their legs. These girls are married and engaged. And they're worried about a couple of red spots on their legs. For a party in a room with minimal lighting where nobody could care less. This was the point I decided 'enough is enough', and very quietly made my exit.
Because here's the thing. By leaving early, my life could continue like this:
Nic drives me home, we have a chat about our day, some nice time with just the two of us (not having to shout over music or getting drinks spilled on us), as we ponder over dinner and miss our furkids.
We get home, greeted happily by Mallei who has been inside all day and is just mega-stoked to see us, but really needs to pee. The kitten hasn't figured out how the front door yet, so gets stuck behind it again, and we have a laugh. We bustle inside and head out almost immediately to take Mal for a walk in the last of the sunshine for the day. This is another nice time for just the two of us to talk and relax and unwind. We head home. Nic starts on dinner while I feed the animals, then spend some time playing with Reya and Mal. We eat, relax, watch an episode of one of our tv shows, then head to bed at about 10 or 10.30 where we cuddle up and talk about nothing for another half an hour as the kitten races around and plays in the bath, skidding around corners and 'glomping' up and down the hall. Mal sighs from his bed, like he's too old for this crap, but is secretly fascinated by Reya's antics. And then we go to sleep. If it's a friday night, we have a sleep in till about 8, and then have the whole day to get out and about, to run or cycle or paddle, to cook or garden or go shopping, or whatever we want...
I think the alternative- of succumbing to pressure and 'getting smashed' at the party- would have been much less enjoyable. I'm just sick of that being the norm, and for me being weird or unsociable for not wanting to go down that route. Were it not for work, I wouldn't speak to or socialize with any of those people, so why is making a fool of myself in front of them apparently a prerequisite for a harmonious work environment? I know, I could go out and only have a drink or two, but then there's still the 'party-pooper' mentality if I try and leave before I'm completely off my face.
Grow up, people. There's more to life than that.
(and I'm not just saying that because I'm a soon-to-be-grumpy-old-wife ;) )
The other party was just for our section of the company, so Nic wouldn't have been allowed to come. There was two hours of free drinks provided.
The first, people didn't mind so much that I didn't go, because hardly anyone from our team went. The second, I'd given an indication that I might go, but only until finished work (so I'd be there from about 4.30 to 6ish, then we'd leave. We were driving home together). I don't really drink. They tend to have 'drinks runs' at work on Friday arvo, where people spend their pay on a 6 pack (or whatever), drink it at work, then go home. I don't think I've ever bought drinks in a drinks run. I don't go out, and I never really have. So I'm getting pressure from co-workers to go to this party, get smashed, go crazy. I go, I'll say, but not for long. To which they give me a look. Like I'm being deprived.
When I said I didn't think I'd go to one girl, she looks astonished and says: "Just come out and be SOCIAL!"
And I think about the coffee I'd had with a friend the evening before and wonder how or why that is any less social than going out, getting so intoxicated that you don't make any sense, make a fool of yourself, fall asleep in a pile of drool, and wake up not remembering a thing. Because let's face it, that's what they're taking about. It's not a sophisticated wine at a clean bar somewhere- it's a divey pub with sticky floors.
Maybe I should have gone and said hello, but then as soon as I said I was leaving, I would have gotten the same treatment.
In the end, I was watching people getting ready- a flurry of activity as girls madly straightened their hair in the bathroom, boys smoked outside and cracked open their third can of JD and coke (at 4.30pm, mind you)... and then girls started applying concealer to mosquito bites on their legs. These girls are married and engaged. And they're worried about a couple of red spots on their legs. For a party in a room with minimal lighting where nobody could care less. This was the point I decided 'enough is enough', and very quietly made my exit.
Because here's the thing. By leaving early, my life could continue like this:
Nic drives me home, we have a chat about our day, some nice time with just the two of us (not having to shout over music or getting drinks spilled on us), as we ponder over dinner and miss our furkids.
We get home, greeted happily by Mallei who has been inside all day and is just mega-stoked to see us, but really needs to pee. The kitten hasn't figured out how the front door yet, so gets stuck behind it again, and we have a laugh. We bustle inside and head out almost immediately to take Mal for a walk in the last of the sunshine for the day. This is another nice time for just the two of us to talk and relax and unwind. We head home. Nic starts on dinner while I feed the animals, then spend some time playing with Reya and Mal. We eat, relax, watch an episode of one of our tv shows, then head to bed at about 10 or 10.30 where we cuddle up and talk about nothing for another half an hour as the kitten races around and plays in the bath, skidding around corners and 'glomping' up and down the hall. Mal sighs from his bed, like he's too old for this crap, but is secretly fascinated by Reya's antics. And then we go to sleep. If it's a friday night, we have a sleep in till about 8, and then have the whole day to get out and about, to run or cycle or paddle, to cook or garden or go shopping, or whatever we want...
I think the alternative- of succumbing to pressure and 'getting smashed' at the party- would have been much less enjoyable. I'm just sick of that being the norm, and for me being weird or unsociable for not wanting to go down that route. Were it not for work, I wouldn't speak to or socialize with any of those people, so why is making a fool of myself in front of them apparently a prerequisite for a harmonious work environment? I know, I could go out and only have a drink or two, but then there's still the 'party-pooper' mentality if I try and leave before I'm completely off my face.
Grow up, people. There's more to life than that.
(and I'm not just saying that because I'm a soon-to-be-grumpy-old-wife ;) )
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