Happy Halloween

It's Halloween, so that means we'll be hearing "Thriller", "Freaks Come Out At Night", and "Somebody's Watching Me" at least once today. But because I love (black) Michael Jackson, here's "Thriller" to get you in the Halloween spirit:



Have a great day yall!

Weekend Recap

I'm so glad to be back home. I flew home this weekend (I don't know why I didn't do that before, cuz all that driving is really over-rated). Had a great flight in, even though the weather was atrocious (LOL, I love hearing that word with a British accent). It was the first time I've gone home without D, so we were a mess at the airport as I was getting ready to go through security. Hugs that lasted 2 minutes too long and all that. But when I got to mom's it was ON.

I got off the plane at about 7:30AM. Mom and Daddy took me out to breakfast and we did some family stuff for a lil while. Great. I was kinda out of it cuz you know I'd been up since 4AM, but nice anyway. We dropped Daddy off at home, and then me and my mom went to the bridal store. Big.azz.mistake.

D is really involved with all of this wedding planning, even down to my dress. I've wanted his input on the dress I'm going to wear because it's his wedding too. The wedding, at least in our eyes, is NOT all about the bride. Bridezillas be damned. I don't want him seeing me walking down the aisle rolling his eyes and thinking, "...the fukk does she have on?". So he's helped me pick the dresses--bridesmaids and mine. Well the one I picked out before is no longer available, so my mom decided that she was going to intervene and take me to the bride store at home--it's the same place where I got prom dresses, etc. She's a great great wedding dress person. So I see a dress that's nice, and they tell me to put the deposit on it right then because it's crossover season in bridal wear, so they don't know if the same dress will be avaialable come January, so they need to get the confirmation from the designer right now.

I refused. I told them I won't put a deposit on anything until D has seen it. Or at least a picture of it. Especially since he's paying for my dress. They were telling me that I'm wrong and will basically rot in a moldy corner in Satan's tinderbox because I want him to see the dress. I got my way, but it was catty. And then after all that, my mom stayed mad at me till I left yesterday morning. But this right here was the worst:

Some lady at the store: "You're gonna fuck up your wedding. You probably will jinx your marriage like that. You better not let him see that dress. He'll be mad at you"

Me: "Where is your engagement ring? Are you engaged? Are you married? Nope. Bare fucking ring finger. Oh, I see you're getting fitted for a bridesmaid dress. Not a wedding gown. Your opinion is null and void. You come talk to me when you're the one shelling out beaucoup dollars for a dress. You have a good day"

Mom, Dress Lady, and Some people in the store (M,D,S): "That's blasphemy. He needs to not know about the dress. It's the last decision you'll make as a single women"

Me: "We made that decision together."

M,D,S: "Nooooo. You don't know what you're doing. You will ruin your marriage like that. It's tradition, he should be surprised"

Me: "Fuck a tradition. We're a non traditional couple. See my engagement ring? Not like your average ring, right? We do shit our own way"

M,D,S: "You can't do that though. It's not right"

Me: "Look, we'll be just as married whether he sees the dress or not. That's OUR decision. WE're paying for it. When yall start paying for my wedding, your opinions will matter. Let me take a copy of what the dress looks like, and I'll send him a picture message on the phone"

Dress Lady: "I don't know if I can let you do that. I'll give you a copy of the page it's on, then you take it home and cool down. Call me Tuesday with your credit card number for the deposit. Lemme take your measurements. See, we have to do it this way so the bridesmaid dresses match the red sash on your dress"

Me: "ok." *fuming*

So I left with my copies. Mom was on my ass for the rest of the day and night. Showing me the wedding shows on the Style Network and Oxygen and what not. "See see see, her husband didn't know what the dress looks like". I thought it was about to come to blows.

Mom: "You just don't understand. You're not married"

Me: "Rethink that last statement, mom."

Mom: "What kind of good wife doesn't follow tradition? I mean, it's tradition for him to know nothing about a dress until you see him on your wedding day"

Me: "Well, I guess I'll be a bad wife. A happy one though."

Mom: "You just don't understand!!!"

All this about a gotdamned dress. I wanted to cry and leave. But I was stuck at mama's house with no car, and I didn't want to borrow hers. I could have called one of my girls who still lives there, I didn't really feel like going out anyway since monsoon season decided to hit the state with random torrential rain. So I went to bed early.

Sunday morining, I was back on a plane at 7AM. My mom decided to call truce, and tell me that she was just happy that I'm happy. Isn't this how it's supposed to be anyway? I'm glad I didn't leave angry. I just wish we could have spent more time doing what moms and grown daughters do--like tea and crumpets or whatever the hell you see on Lifetime movies, lol. But I see now how this is going to go. She'll have to be a "from afar" helper.

Once I got back home, D picked me up and we enjoyed the rest of the day. We went and had pedicures and I got my nails done. Yup, he got a pedicure cuz those man-feet get all horrible in his line of work, and I'm not about to be cuttin' toenails and what not. He left for work and I did a late dinner with 3 of my girlfriends and then I hit the bed like a sack of bricks. I'm tired!!

Anyhoo, I'm done ramblin now. How was your weekend?

Friday Flashback

It's raining in the "urrea", so I guess this one fits. It's Oran "Juice" Jones, "The Rain":



I'm going to see my mama for a lil bit this weekend, you know...get some good home cooked food and all that. Hope you all have a good weekend. Stay blessed, stay fabulous.

D says...

Finally he got around to responding to your questions. A lot of them were the same question, just asked different ways, so here goes...

What is your definition of love?
Well love is hard to describe but I'll try. For me, love is you being able to care for someone no matter what they do or say, and being able to accept and appreciate the other person's faults. I wish I could answer this better for you. It is hard to describe and even harder to find. I will say that people use the word too easily. Love is everlasting, even when things go bad. Love is the evolution of like.

What quirky habits do you have?
I guess the most quirky habit I have is when the Redskins play I wear my Redskins jersey. Boring.

What's the best thing you've ever done in the army?
I did alot of good things in the Army, but my best thing was coming home alive from the war in Afghanistan.

What do you hate most about your job?
I suppose taking police reports for petty things is probably one of my most serious dislikes of the job. Alot of issues can be resolved without police presence.

What do you love most about Bella Noire?
I love everything about her. I would have to dig deep to find what I love most about her. She is great! I promise I didn't make him write that!

When you first met Bella Noire, what was the first thing about her
that stood out to you?
The first thing that stood out to me was her outfit and that she didn't have on anything crazy or sleazy looking when we first met. She gave the impression that she respects herself alot and wants to be respected. I liked that.

Which holiday do you look forward to most and why?
I look forward to Christmas the most because of all the family gatherings. I missed Christmas while I was in Afghanistan, and that was the most difficult thing about the tour. So now Christmas is even more important to me.

Whats the funniest memory you remember from childhood?
I was about five and I went into the potato chip bag and sucked the salt from every chip I could. When my sister and mother went into the bag they picked up nothing but wet chips!

How did you know Tasha was the one?
I can't answer that in a few lines; it was something that I just knew deep within myself.

What you pray your children learn from here that they might not learn from you?
I don't know exactly what I want my children to learn from her, but I'm pretty sure they will have her most valubale traits.

Who do you think your children will most look like?
I can only say that I hope if we have a girl, she looks like just like her mom.

What is something that you dislike about lovely Tasha :)?
When she cries she has an UGLY face, lol.

When (and how) did you know that you were in love with Tasha?
At 11:44 PM on March 12, 2007. Just kidding. It's really hard to put a time on it. I just knew. I tried to picture myself as an old man, and I saw her right along with me.

What is it about Ms. Tasha that makes your toes curl?
Am I allowed to answer that here? This is a family blog, right?

How long did you and Tasha date before you realized she was the woman you wanted to spend your life with??
I don't know the exact answer to that. It was fairly quickly though.

What was your last unit in the Army? And what was your MOS?
290th Military Police Company. My MOS was 95B (The numbers have been reassigned since then).

Varsity Blues

Varsity means nothing. I repeat, Varsity means NOTHING when you are over the age of 21. Undergrad is gone, highschool is a vague memory.

See, I played varsity volleyball all through high school and for a while in college. I even played in one of those "I'm not a kid anymore" corporate leagues for a minute after I graduated. So you'd think that I have some skills, right? Riiight??

Well, I do. Umm, I did anyway. The only skills I've got right now are in IcyHot application and Advil poppin. Me and my "I played varsity" self decided that it would be fun to help my cousin for the evening coaching her daughter's team. After the news I got, I needed a distraction. (I'll get to explaining what happened when I manage to find the words) Not an overall bad decision, execpt for the fact that I wanted to participate with the players. *Ahem* Did I mention that I am NOT 16 anymore? To my own damn dismay, I pulled the serious 'I'm getting old' move and said, "lemme show yall what we did when I played on my HS team". I really thought I was doing something until I felt some muscle I didn't know existed in my leg stretch wrong. Immediate handicappage, proceed to fall to the ground. But *beats chest with fist* I played varsity, son. The kid can't go out like that, so I jumped right back up and let the girls practice the move I'd just showed them on me. Just me on one side of the net. Six of them on the other side. Something we used to do in HS all the time. That's how we got to be regional champs. I really knew this wasn't smart, but *cough* I played varsity. I got skills.

They whooped.my.azz. Whomp Whoooooooomp. Those girls had me looking like Sambo doing all this jumping and diving to get the ball over the net. I was so hurt, literally, that I decided to leave before practice was over. Nevermind that I just had a biopsy and was ORDERED to stay AWAY from intense physical activity. Bad decision making on my part, yeah yeah. But I think I was more hurt by the fact that I was sounding just like my older brother's old HS football friends. I never understood why they just can't let the dream die. Sure they got their varisy letter and the jacket, but professional football players they are not.

I hope this incident is not the beginning of the "you youngins don't know about this here" or "whatchu know 'bout this dance". Uggh. Jesus take the wheel and please don't let me end up like that uncle who is always at someone's wedding trying to outdance the kids.

Let Me Count the Ways

Sorry in advance for the sappiness of this post.

I got some news today, and it wasn't good. *sigh* and *sigh* again, I'll explain soon. I want to cry. I'll make it through, but alone it would be even harder. All my trials, and the one I'm staring in the face, have been made easier cuz of him.

D, I stand by you, with you, and next to you because...

1)You love me better than anyone ever has
2)You make me want to be a better woman
3)You protect my body, soul, and spirit
4)You put GOD first in your world
5)You respect my womanhood
6)You support me during my struggles
7)You wipe my tears and cry with me
8)You know how I feel about something before I do
9)You make my morning right
10)When the world is harsh, you hold me gently

Thanks for holding me up over the last few weeks, when the stuff has been rough. Thanks for letting me know that I won't have to do this alone.

Monday Mashup

Ugh. Monday, I wish I could rewind to Saturday and keep enjoying the weekend. Friday's biopsy went well I guess. 4 lesions on my cervix were biopsied and they don't look right, but we'll see when I get the pathology report on November 2. And she did an endometrial biopsy also, which means she got some cultures from my uterus too. No, no anesthesia involved. They said it would *pinch*. Pinch my azz, that mess is sooo painful. I'm still sore and can't do any lifting or go to the gym until the end of the week. I'll spare the nastier details of what's going on, but it's not cute lemmetellya. But thanks for all the prayers and well wishes you all have given, it truly means a lot. Love ya blog peoples!

But Saturday, I got my ish together for the most part and went shopping with the girls all day. I paid for it--my wallet was lighter, and I felt the effects physically. Umm, when the doctor says relax, you're supposed to do that. Not run all over central MD shopping all day. *sigh*. But I did find some cute shoes and jeans. At least something good came of that. D had to work Saturday night, so I went home and relaxed with a heat pad and some strong ibuprofen. Good sleep. Goooood sleep. That drool inducing kind. D said he came home from work and caught me looking like a little girl wrapped up with my blankie and glow worm. (Don't say nuffin about my glow worm, lol)

Sunday me and D had the chance to relax. Skins game, then lunch out, then looking at houses again. We still haven't found the right one, but we're getting there. And we test drove a few trucks. Fun times. And now I'm back here. Boooooo.

Random Foolishness:
On Saturday, some wanna be hard rocker walked up to me and my friend as I was leaving the restroom in Arundel Mills mall and asked, "You girls are so pretty. I've always wanted to date a colored girl. How do I get a colored girl". **Stop the clock, personal foul!** He was so serious too, and when we said, "Don't call her colored. That's a good way to start", he got all red faced and walked away looking embarrassed. Umm, at least he asked nicely. *rolls eyes*.

Hope you all had a good weekend!

Happy Friday...

Hey yall...I'm not going to move the blog for a little while yet because I'm having some trouble moving my archived posts. Hopefully in the next week or so. But I'll be posting here regularly in the meantime.

I have another biopsy today. I'm not looking forward to it because they hurt so much. I also have to go over the details of the oophorectomy (ovary removal) today. I haven't really posted this week because I've been trying to get myself okay with the fact that I may be thrown into pre-menopause this early in my life. I'll be on estrogen replacement therapy so hopefully that will regulate things. So I'm left knowing that my child bearing window is severely limited.

So be it though. Whatever I'm supposed to go through God already has destined for me, so I know I shouldn't worry about it. *sigh*. I wish it weren't me, but I wouldn't want anyone else to deal with this.

Anyway, this weekend is all about the shopping. Me and a bunch of girlfriends are going to the outlets on Saturday, we're dragging along the menfolk and letting them loose at one of our friends' houses (she lives in Hagerstown and has a few 4-wheelers and go-karts, so they'll be ok while we spend their money...I mean our money).

You blogfam folk have come with some really good suggestions about where to have the reception, so we'll be looking at a few of your suggestions on Sunday. We're looking at two museums and we're attempting to get a chance to check out the Navy Yard. Thanks yall!!

Hope you have a good weekend.

Moving

I am in the process of moving my blog to another program. As soon as things are straight over there, I'll give you the address so you can update your blogrolls. Blogger's too much for me right now.

Everything I Needed, I Already Had

D is still answering the loads of questions he got, so no answers today, LOL. Hope you all had a great weekend. Me and D spent the weekend with his (our) family, and it was just great. But getting to the point of calling his family my family hasn't been easy.


I spent a good part of my childhood resenting my family. Not being mad at WHO they were, but resenting WHAT they weren't. Everyday, I'd cross the proverbial tracks and go to the "rich white people school" and I'd see mommies AND daddies dropping their progeny off at the door. Girls running into daddy's arms at the end of the day. Family pictures hung up in people's lockers that show three generations of family lineage. When I got back to my side of town, I saw the kids who looked like me running around with their throngs of cousins, having family reunions in the park, and aunts and uncles on every block in the hood.

Me, and mine. That's all it was. My mom, my dad, my brother, me. By 1986 my father was certified fucked up and divorced. That left my mom, my brother, me. By 1992 my brother was off to college and never really returned home. Summer visits don't count. So it was my mom, me. That's all. My mom is from NYC, and my father from Jamaica (West Indies), so in our upstate NY neighborhood--family meant my mom and that's all. A stark contrast to the big family units in my hood that would rally up to whoop some ass if need be, and even more polarized from the family portraits that I saw at school everyday. Alone. Even with people around me. I felt alone.

I resented my mom vehemently. Just go back to NYC permanently so we could have a real family there. Grandma, Grandpa, cousins, and aunts, and uncles awaited me there. But for my educational sake, and more than likely to protect me from my father, we remained. We shuffled back and forth, but in the end it was just us. No family reunions, no impromptu dinners at an aunt's house. Just me and my mother, by fate knit closer than a wool sweater. It didn't have to be like that. All I wanted was a family to love, to see what Christmas would be like if all we had to do was walk around the corner to have the big family dinner, instead of sitting on I-87 south for 2 hours and going across the Tappan Zee Bridge.

My resentment followed me, and I wore it like a girl scout badge. I had a woman say to me, "No man, and no man's family will ever love you because you don't know how to interact with a family. You don't know how to belong". I was ten the first time I heard that. And it stuck like old grits to the bottom of the pot. All I wanted to do was belong. I needed that sense of family. Two hours to NYC, three and a half hours to Philly, a plane ride to Florida, a longer plane ride to Jamaica was too far to go to get that family feeling. And even then, because we weren't physically close, getting that warm fuzzy feeling that advertisers allude to in soup commercials was even more difficult. I broke down at boyfriends' family functions. Hiding deep within myself because I didn't know how a real family worked.

When I met D's family, it was like love at first site. They loved me, and I loved them. But I still resisted, because I didn't know how to give in. I didn't know family. I didn't know how to be a part of a family gathering. Something as simple as my birthday party turned into a full-out tear jerker because I had to work hard to hold it together and cracked by the end of the night.

Me: "D, your family is so great, but all I know about family is what I see on TV and from the pictures on Christmas cards. It's so hard to fit into that, cuz I always needed family structure, but never had it. I think I'm family retarded"

D: "Who was around you when you grew up?"

Me: "My mom, my brother, all of our friends, family friends, my god parents."

D: "Where did you go on birthdays and holidays? To their houses, right? You played with their friends, and their kids, right? They were at your graduations and dance competitions, right? That's your family. You know all about family, probably moreso than me. You can't fit into my family because they're already your family. There's no fitting necessary. You love them just like they love you. The first day they met you, my mom knew you were going to be my wife. Tasha, your family is your heart, no matter if they're related by blood"

I just sat in silence after hearing him say that. All the resentment wilted. All the attempts to pretend to be a family lady were in vain. I can't pretend to be something that I already am. Everything I (thought I) needed, I already had. I grew up with the best type of family. Friends and relatives all over the place. I was never alone. It's sad that it's taken a man and almost 20 years for me to realize that, but it's alright. I'm happy that I have the best family around--mine and D's. That's all I need.

Welcome to the family.

Wednesday Whatever

The stuff on my mind...

-Along with the might-be cancer in my body, I found out that I have to have my left ovary taken out. It has six non-fibroid cysts on it. *sigh*. But I'll still be able to have children

-Every day at this plantation feels miserable to me. I don't want to do this anymore. I love my industry, but this is putting a dark cloud over my soul. I can't stay here knowing that I don't have the autonomy to help my patients the way they need to be helped.

-I picked out my dress, but now everyone has comments. Here it is:





















-I'm not knocked up. So that's not why I'm getting married. So stop asking, anon. Go the fukk back where you came from or at least get out of my comment box.

-Bout time I commented on Mar.ion J.ones, right? Well...it's nothing I didn't expect. I knew she was lying from the jump. No one who is innocent denies accusations that hard. They just don't. Sorry to see her fall from grace, but avoid the compromising positions to begin with.

-I'm tired of reading people's blogs lamenting about how they can't get a man or how there are no good men out there, but they refuse to take stock of themselves. Admitting you're a little rough around the edges can go a long way. I'm a damn mess half the time, and I know it and embrace it. I took all that messiness and dropped it at D's feet. He could take it or leave it. He took it, and I couldn't be happier. And I know full well that our happniess depends on what the both of us do, not just how he acts toward me. I have to treat him right in order for him to treat me right. Don't expect a man to treat you like a princess when you treat him like a pauper or worse yet like a child. Even if we don't work out, I'm grateful for the experience and will NEVER ever be bitter about it. That's why I'm happy from the inside out. Shit doesn't make me bitter. Bitter is for black coffee. Bitter is for sour patch kids. Bitter is NOT for grown ass good-sense havin' people.

-The window cleaners are at my job today. Watching them wash windows while suspended mid-air is a hell of a lot more interesting that what is on my desk.

-Why are grown ass people still getting red in the face and giggly when the topic of sex comes up? Hell how do you think you got here? I walked in the break room yesterday and these women were a red faced embarrassed hot mess cuz they were joking that one of the girls had sex with her man, cuz she's pregnant now. The surprise is where?

-I've been hiding from the gym lately, and I don't even feel guilty. But someone took a pic of me a few days ago and well... I'll be at the gym tonight. Nuff said.

-My neighbor fell for one of those Nigerian/UK lotto scams. She deposited the fake check and wired the money. Now she's in trouble with her bank and out $ix figure$. Yikes.

-I'm so ready for a cup of tea, but that would mean that I have to walk past massa, and she's on the warpath. Uggh, interview not coming quick enough

-I'm looking for a plance in the DC urrea to have our reception. Suggestions? We're looking at around 100-125 people (small, yay!!) and we don't want it to be in somebody's gymnasium. LOL, gymnasium...I've always liked that word.

-I see you girl reading my blog. It's alright, hon. Hide your IP address next time, mmmk. I thought you wanted to stay out of my business. Kick rocks, beyatch.

-Is it lunch time yet?

Ask D

D is feeling left out of blogland, so he wants answer questions from yall (ok, he's not really feeling left out, I just volunteered him to play along)...so either email me or drop your question in the comment box. He'll post the answers on Thursday.

Holiday!

It's a holiday, woo hoo. Day off, right? Nope. I'm on the plantation, working hard because I have stuff sitting on my desk from last week that I need to get caught up on. I've got plenty to ramble about, but massa is calling me. I'll try and post later on today, if not...have a good Monday and a good day off for most of you.

Friday Flashback

This week it's Bobby Brown, pre-crack, in all of his spandex biker shorts with suspenders glory: "Every Little Step"



What are you getting into this weekend? I'll be going to see Common in concert and then back on the wedding dress grind with a few girlfriends. I know I'll be catching up on some zzz's too cuz I've been cheating myself in the sleep dept. as of late. Have a good weekend; stay fabulous and blessed!

Grown Azz Boys

This morning D drove me to work and we stopped for coffee. Outside of the D.unkin D.onuts were a bunch of high school aged kids, mostly boys, who were apparently waiting for the school bus. While we were walking back to the car, one of them shouted at me, "Cutie, I wanna hit that" and then another, "Bruh, ya girl got a fat ass". D was heated, but didn't even honor their shouts with a response and I just gave them the 'I'm old enough to be your mama, please act right' look.

This kind of thing happens all too often, so I wasn't surprised in any way. What I'm put off by though is the fact that they've been taught that acting that way is acceptable male behavior. Some where along the line they've been taught that being rude and extra forward to a woman is the definition of manhood. Sadly, I expect that type of behavior from somegrown men in their 20s and maybe early 30s, but I'm not sure when it became universally acceptable or sexy even. I've been approached by men of (virtually) all ages, and I've noticed that most of the older ones approach me and other women like they have some sense. They don't say things like, "I wanna hit that" or other way off the wall stuff. It's usally something more like, "Pardon me miss, you have a lovely smile. I'd love the chance to talk with you some more".

Assuming that men teach their boys or that boys follow the examples of the men around them, how did these boys get the idea that "I wanna get in your jeans mama" works better than "Excuse me miss..."? Also, you don't see too many older dudes disrespecting the man that a woman is out with, so why are the youngins doing it? You don't see Willie the Catfish Fryer talking about, "Playa, I wanna get all up in your woman's panty-drawers". Don't the kids know they could catch a few charges or fists to the face like that? You can try to blame their behavoir on hip hop videos, but the people in the videos had to get their ideas from somewhere also.

In the same breath, however you have to ask about the girls who actually respond to advances like that, they're just as bad. Where are their mamas to tell them that when a man approaches you raunchy, he'll continue to treat you that way?

Grown azz youngins, *sigh*. Look at me sounding like my mama--damn.

Pickin' Cotton

I'm working like a field slave on the plantation today, so no post. I'll catch up with ya tomorrow!

I Am NOT a Cupcake

D and I managed to have a really good weekend, we did date night twice and saw "The Kingdom" (If you like action, go see it. We loved it!!). We also saw the builders, and we're going over the plans for one townhouse now. I'm so excited to see us actually moving forward with this. *doing happy dance* Can't wait to flex my interior design muscles, lol.

But while he did whatever it is men do on Saturday mornings, I busied myself with wedding gown shopping. Umm. Let me just say, I.hate.this.with.a.passion. I actually enjoy trying on dresses and crinolines and stuff, but I hate the salespeople that come along with it. See, I say all the time that I'm not a small girl...I've lost 60 lbs or so over the last 15 months, but still teetering between plus size and non-plus size. Anyhoo, the salespeople at every wedding store I've been to seem to think that because I'm a woman of some size that I want some big azz poofy, tulle-d to hell nightmare of a dress. You know, looking like some abstract Picasso-ized rendition of Cinderella.

I went to four different places on Saturday, and while I was looking at the styles that I like (mostly A-line cut dresses), I was directed toward the "big poof". The tight bodice with the big azz tulle and netting mess at the bottom. Like this:

If you like that kind of thing, more power to you. But not this chick. Just for kicks and giggles, I tried the dress on at three of the places I went to, and each and every single one of the sales lady said something to the effect of "Aww you look like a little cupcake. How cute! That style looks best for your body type".

What.the.fugg?! How is saying that I look like a cupcake a good thing? Compliment? Ok, so lemme tell your little skinny knock-kneed behind that you look like a dried-up chicken wing and that you could benefit from eating a sandwich or five. That's offensive, right? But telling the big girl that she looks like a cupcake isn't?? Grrr!!! I like wedding cake, but I don't want to look like one.

I know people have my best intentions or lining their wallets in mind when they "guide" us towar certain wedding items, but I have to wonder if they listen when I tell them what we want. We don't want some behemoth of a wedding, we want it small and simple; so don't send us to the behemoth reception location. Parents, friends, and almost everyone that has a pulse who has found out about the impending nuptials say something like, "Well if it were me, I'd do it this way..." or "When me and ol' fart got married, we did it that way, and I'm sure you all would love it..." or even worse "I'll call the super expensive azz wedding coordinator that completely fugged up my wedding, and have her call you...". The best one we've heard, "Y'all should go on that 'Who's Wedding is it anyway' show so you can get a free hotel stay". Just puke. We know D is a veteran, but we don't want a military wedding, so stop suggesting it. We know we have a lot of friends yet want a very small wedding, so stop suggesting that we have 500 guests. We don't care about the gifts, we don't care about the flower arrangements, we just want to be married dammit. And I don't want to look like a cupcake in the process. *sigh* maybe we should just elope--and we're thinking about it. Maybe doing the JP, then having a bigger wedding later just so we know we can have the wedding for US, and then make THEM happy later. *sigh* Sorry for the rant yall. Hope you had a good weekend.