Happy Home Building

So... 

We have finally moved in!  And you will be pleased to know the move went well with massive thanks to Mr Y, my lovely fiancés' best mate, who lugged and shifted those boxes and furniture like his life depended on it!   I am and will be forever grateful, as if it wasn't for him, Mr Mc would have had to have done it all himself due to me not being allowed back at the house (very mature I know)

I am surrounded by boxes and half built furniture, yet I feel more content than I have done in months.  Why?  Could be something to do with not being under pressure to have everything we own tidy, tidy tidy, out of sight even though the rest of the house is messy?  Or possibly because I don't feel the need to hide away in my room which was lovingly known as the fortress of solitude by the end.  I now have a whole house to spread out in!  

Its a really nice feeling unpacking and discovering belongings I haven't had access to for over 6 months, and then putting stuff on display without upsetting anyone.  I  But do you know what one of the best things about having our own home again?  Not having to live out of a cardboard box!  All of our food was kept in a cardboard box in the utility room as we were not allowed any cupboard space and it was positively awful. 

Its also a brilliant feeling discovering trinkets and gizmos you forgot you even had!  Some would argue that if I forgot I had them, then why do I even need to keep them?  Because young grasshopper, the rediscovery of my lost treasures brought a smile to my face which has been absent for so many months.  Rediscovering things which I forgot I had and reminiscing about their origins has reminded me that I still have a life to live and someone to live it out with.  We are surrounded by family and friends who genuinely care for us and take us as we are, without upsetting our lives and life plans over something as petty as the hemline of a goddam dress!  (Did you see what I did there?  I nearly had a full on rant but stopped myself just in time! :-) )

If it wasn't for the hospitality, help and generosity of our family and friends over the last few weeks I have no idea what we would have done, and I am eternally grateful for everything.

You know who you are x

Operation Salvage My Life

Ive been a very bad blogger...  For good reasons.

I have been busy salvaging my life following a massive relationship breakdown with the In-Laws.  So sit tight and grab a cuppa if you fancy listening to a long winded ranty story.

Last year I bought a wedding dress - I wrote about it in another post.  It didn't fit right when I bought it.  The skirt was 4" too short at the back and too long at the front, and it only just fastened up.  The Mother in Law (MIL) was there when I bought it and kinda pushed me into buying it with the help of the stroppy shop assistant.

It then sat in the spare room for about 10 months eating away at my subconscious.  So I tried it back on and it was still ridiculous.  A little weight loss later... Yep still don't fit right.  So what did I do?  What any normal woman would do.  Start looking for another dress.  I can't feasibly loose 4" from my height can I??

However, this wasn't enough for MIL, she wanted to take it back to the shop to "have it out with them".  I really didn't think this was appropriate nor did I want this to happen because I should never have bought it in the first place.  Its my dress and my problem, so I graciously declined.  Little did I know that this meant all hell was going to break loose...

The subject was not over or dropped.  She continuously brought it up with MrMc and was told to leave it alone.  MIL is apparently used to getting her own way and was not happy that I had refused her interventions.  I dug my heels in deeper and refused to let anyone interfere in "The Dress" situation.

Then it went BOOM!  I was branded a liar.  I was accused of lying about my dress.  This meant I was a liar through and through and wasn't to be trusted.  It also meant I was driving a wedge in her mother-son relationship and MrMc should give serious consideration into not marrying me because he would be marrying a liar, and all I am after is her money and house... Yes.  Really.

"That girls the devil d'ya hear?  You stay away from her!" - I love the Waterboy, what a film!

Anyway... 

She has also refused to come to the wedding incidentally...

I forgot to mention that we moved in with the In Laws in February, to give us the chance to be able to save for a deposit to buy our own home and pay for our upcoming wedding.  Which has not been fun.  I also forgot to mention that we had our own (rented) home previously, and gave it all up and either sold or threw away all our furniture due to lack of available storage.  I also had to find new homes for my kitties (which devastated my daughter and I still get a little upset about it too...)

Anyways... the above all meant I was "no longer welcome"  all because I was accused of lying about the hemline of a dress, bugger all to do with her... ridiculous?  Hell yea.

This means we have had to start from fresh and use all our wedding and new home fund on new furniture and starting again.  Angry?  Hell no.  Friggin furious is probably closer to the truth.

What am I going to do?  Nothing.

Why?  Theres only so much a person can put up with before the will to fight back is knocked out of them.  I think I have reached that point in my life where I just can't be bothered to fight back.  Why should I?  The woman is delusional and possibly rabid!

Ill just let them continue having her P.I. friends investigate me and her changing the locks because she thinks I broke in and went in her bedroom (what the chuff for I have no idea), or have her report me to ebay for omitting to mention something in a listing (why the bloody hell shes searching for wedding dresses I have no idea... maybe I should give her mine so she can go roller skating to Morrisons in it) and a massive list of other crazy sh*t.

Rant over.

Casually Sat Glueing My Car Back Together...

I haven't always been interested in cars.  Until I passed my test, and now I love em.  My first was a 1986  Nissan Micra,  which I hated with a passion so I replaced it with a 2004 Vauxhall Corsa... Which had one issue after another, so I sold it on ebay.  Then Came a 1999 Ford Mondeo which died a miserable death and I then went all out and bought a 2001 Vauxhall Vectra... But not any Vectra, this was a 2.2 SRI Irmscher.  I blummin loved it!  I had suddenly become proud of my car and didn't mind being seen driving it!  It opened a whole new world to me.  Driving wasn't just a function I performed, it was now fun!

Then disaster struck.  My marriage broke down and I could no longer afford to keep the car, so it had to go :-(

It soon became apparent that living 40 miles away from work and a journey consisting of 2 buses and a 45 min train journey just wasn't feasible, so I had to buy another car if I wanted to keep my job.

Then came along Rita.  Now I did name my cars in the past.  There was Colin The Corsa, Marjory the Mondeo and Vivienne The Vectra.  But Rita was different.  She was a 1994 Nissan Micra and I hated driving her "Another bloody Micra"  was my exact wording... She was an embarrassment in general.... But...  I could not fault her either.  I have had a fair few mini adventures in that car, and she took everything I ever threw at her.  She was formerly known as Rita The Queen Of Speed after the ride at Alton Towers.  Also known as Rita The All Terrain Micra.  That car did things she probably shouldn't... And yes I did take her off road on a few occasions and she made it every time.  Snow?  Puh-lease!  She was an all terrain Micra don't-cha know?  Its basically a sledge with an engine!  So when she failed her last MOT and I was told no amount of welding will fix her this time, it was time to have her put to sleep...  I was gutted and relieved all at once.

I knew I wasn't going to miss getting up dreading whether she wasn't going to start, or wondering if I would make it to wherever I was going.  I knew I wouldn't miss the general feeling of inadequacy on the motorway causing me to trundle along in the 'looser lane'.  But I would miss driving a scruffy car which didn't matter if I dinged it on something, or trying to beat my personal best at not cleaning her... (1 year 2 months before MrMc made me do it).  I wouldn't miss it when something fell off the car and having to limp to the garage to have it welded back on or scrounging round for some super glue to sit in the car park on your lunch hour casually glueing my car back together... (This also happened in my new car when the glass fell out of my wing mirror :-/ ).  But I have the memories and I am able to look back and laugh at all the stuff I used to get up to in that silly little car.

I would consider myself very fortunate if my new car (Priscilla the Passatt, Empress of the Macadam) gave me even half of the fond memories Rita did...  Even though Priscilla is 10 years younger than Rita, she has already started shedding parts, so maybe things are looking up!

Anyway, heres to Rita.  A truly awful car, but worth her weight in gold. (well not literally, cos scrap metal prices aren't that great atm)

This Week Oyve Mostly Been Eatin' Grass.

I can't particularly say I am a salad lover.  I really just can't see the appeal in eating something which tastes like grass...  

Another bugbear of mine is when someone says "I can't believe you don't like [insert food of your choice here], it doesn't taste of anything"...  Why bloody eat it if it doesn't taste of anything?  But I can guarantee you it DOES taste of something, otherwise I would like it wouldn't I?  Who do you know who doesn't like the taste of nothing?  You don't hear anyone ever saying I can't stand the taste of nothing, it tastes rubbish?  Exactly.  

Rant over.

As I was saying...  Salads.  I'm not a fan.  But due to the fact that I struggle to loose weight (thank you thyroid) and when I do my winning streak never lasts long and I soon plateau, causing me to become agitated and annoyed with myself until I finally give up and reach for the pizza...  but this time I NEED to loose some lbs...  I also WANT to do it.  Why pay a photographer an obscene amount of money to take pictures of your wedding only to not want to look at them because you don't like the way you look?

Fat Fighters

Instead of having some organisation or other liberate me of my money in return for telling me I am fat and giving me a complex plan to follow, which means I need to buy a magic calculator which operates on some form of Voodoo, and also purchasing a scoring system bible along with several recipe books which tells me I need to mix my ham with vinegar whilst drinking lettuce smoothies...  Na.  been there, done that, paid my fees.  I know what I need to do, I even know how to do it.  Its staying motivated which is the hard part.  That and what to have for lunch at work.  

I need something portable, quick and easy.  Sandwiches tend to have waaaaay too many wasted calories for such a small vessel.  So I have been experimenting with the salad...

For the first time in my life I have found myself uttering the words "Ooh what a lovely salad".  I am really not impressed with myself one bit...  A self confessed salad dodger saying they enjoyed a salad?  What is the world coming to!?  What next?  Ryvita for breakfast?

Anyway... 

The methodology behind getting Big Dawn to be Not-So Big Dawn is purely calorie counting and getting off my bum more often.  To assist me in my quest to reduce my bum from the size of a small planet to more of an acceptable high street clothing kind of size I have downloaded a cool little app for my Android phone called MyFitnessPal.  Its highly addictive and has a database of thousands of foods and even a barcode scanner!  It tells me how many calories I have eaten, how many calories I have left, what nutrients I have consumed and also lets me track my progress.  Its quite nifty really for a free app!  So now I can log what I have eaten whilst power walking to work from the car! (Well its a start isn't it?)*

www.myfitnesspal.com

So here goes nothing... Salad dodger becomes salad lover?  We shall see.

* May I add in my defence, I have a 60-mile round trip to work and I park a few minutes walk away from the office instead of in the actual car park to allow me to actually have the aforementioned walk...

Is it just a dress though?

I started out looking at dresses about 20 months before the wedding.  I originally saw an advert in a magazine for 10% off Berketex Brides!  so I decided that it would be a good opportunity to get out there and start having a look, as I had no idea what style/shape to go for whatsoever!  I could moon over what I think I want for months and plan a whole wedding around a dress style which could make me look like something from a "Fail" blog.  

So off I trotted with my Mum and "The Wife"  to see what we could find....

When we arrived the dress lady gave me some pegs and told me to "go play" and shout her when we were finished.  I did not feel comfortable at all.  All the dresses looked the same.  They were all big long white/ivory dresses with bits of shiney stuff stuck to them.  Dresses which could only be described as "another Saturday wedding dress".  

Harsh?  - possibly. 

But what do I do?  so I started pegging things which looked vaguely different to the others, and then it came crunch time... time to start trying on.

The first dress was very similar to this one....

But with baby pink detail.  I looked ridiculous.  Not a good start at all!  I looked like I had pink doilies stuck to me!

Then the lady manhandled me into this one...

I felt a little happier as it actually fit me!  But I still wasn't convinced.  I was asked to "go for a walk to get the feel for the dress".  So I shuffled off in shoes 2 sizes too big and a dress 2ft too long.  Whatever it was I was supposed to be feeling wasn't coming to me, unless I was meant to feel wobbly and freaky.

Unconvinced and becoming disheartened,  I begrudgingly allowed myself to be shoehorned into this dress...

I won't lie to you, it was big...  and heavy...  But it looked awesome!  By adding a mahoosive skirt, my waist seemed to disappear!  It also had lots of sparkles and a long train.  I actually liked the great big meringue, which I formerly snubbed!  Sadly, this was not the end.  The Wife asked me to try on a fourth "as a favour".  I did decline originally due to the fact that I thought I would look totally ridiculous in it, but the dress lady actually convinced me to "give it a go".

I shall not post a picture of the dress just yet due to the fact that it set firm guidelines as to what style of dress I "needed".  My Mum actually started crying, followed by The Wife.  Ho hum.

I was then informed of the price... £1900!  WTF.  really?  No, I mean, really?  

At least Dick Turpin wore a bloody mask!

Back to the drawing board.

The following week MrMc's mum took me out to a place called The Bridal Warehouse, in Northallerton,  which was full of seconds, samples and excess stock.  Yea, another room full of big white and ivory dresses.  Same procedure as before.  I was given some tags and sent on my merry way.  As all the dresses are one off's and off the peg, you need to try and get a dress that vaguely fits, which proved to be difficult as most of them appeared to be size 8's & 10's and when you are a short round person, its actually really difficult!

I picked out whatever 'might' fit me and was manhandled into one dress after another, about 9 in total... I was beginning to feel really fed up.  All of them looked great in their own way, and all of them were a good price.  But I just wasn't happy.  The shop lady by this time was beginning to get really agitated with me, and impatiently asked me what it was I was really wanting.  She came back a few minutes later with a dress not too dissimilar from the stupidly expensive one.  It fit!  (well it fastened up - just).  And the skirt 4" shorter at the back than the front.  But the price was low, so after some persuasion from Mother In Law and much tutting and huffing and puffing from the staff -I bought it.

Just like that!

One problem...  10 months later and with 10 months to go til 'W' day.  I try it on.  

Do you know that feeling you get when something not nice has just happened?  That kind of feeling you would get if you had just missed the last train home, and you had no money for a taxi and you had left your bank card at home? or you realise you had nothing in your bank account and you were at the petrol station with a tank full of unpurchased fuel?  Or possibly you have just been caught photocopying your bum by the Chief Executive?  That kind of OhPleaseGodNo! feeling.  

My heart sank.  It didn't fit.  Not by a long long way.  I know I have been through an awful lot recently, but could I have let my weight slip that much!?  The hips were gathered up around my waist, and I looked ridiculous stood there in my mums living room in a dress 4 sizes too small for me, whilst they fussed round trying to invent ways of making it fit... How humiliating.

I actually cried when I got home.  Partly because of the shame and partly because of the issue of what am I going to do now??  I really do struggle with weight loss and I think I would need to shed at least 4st for the dress to be even remotely right!  (why oh why did I buy it?!  It didn't fit me to start with!!)

Cue a month of being in a tis with myself and strict dieting with a side order of mild exercise.  The lb's came off and a stone and a bit were lost, back to where I started.  The dress still looked ridiculous.  Why oh why did I let myself be bullied into buying it?

I wasn't happy.  I needed a Plan B to put my mind at ease then if all else fails then I will have a fall back plan...

This is where I start dress shopping all over again.  But this time I won't stop until I have found something perfect.  However, I wont buy anything until the last possible minute, just to be sure that my dress can be salvaged.

So is it "Just a dress?".  For it to invoke the kind of extreme emotions I have been having throughout the whole dress issue.  I think a girls wedding dress has become a little more than that.  How often do you hear women when talking about weddings and they immediately ask about "The Dress?"  I think my desire to look beautiful on my wedding day has taken over my life at the minute.  The sheer cost of the whole wedding alone has added pressure...  Why save money to make your special day just right and then have the bride turn up in whatever fits, or whatever she scrounged up?

Im diggin myself in deeper here arnet I?

Oh bother.

Inappropriate Shoes & Shoe Epiphanies

It was my cousins babies christening today.  I travelled the 1.5 hour journey back to the land from whenst I came, playing irritate the cocky Mercedes driver on the motorway on the way there...  (He was one of those annoying idiotic types who undertake and overtake and basically travel everywhere tailgating folk and flying along at 150mph, so deserved everything he got... (delighted snigger))

Anyway, several weeks ago I bought some orange wedges from Very and I have been dying to wear them since!  As I mentioned previously, I don't do high heels.  I cant steer them and I just can't acclimatise to the agony in the balls of my feet!  But my orange wedges... well, for me they are high.  Very high.  But due to the platform, the incline isn't too steep, its just the overall height gives me a much needed lift!  So I am insanely surprised that after standing for most of the day, I have no blisters, no agony when walking, no waddle, nothing!  Its like they are miracle shoes or something!  I don't feel I could spend all day wandering round the shops in them or anything, but I think I may be able to endure a few drinks out with the girlies, or a wedding even!

Reading this it may seem a little strange that Im so excited about a pair of shoes...  Well yea, I am a little.  Only because the only heel height I have been able to wear in previous years in a 1 1/2" - 2" maximum!  Even then I end up kicking them off and wandering around bare footed.  (It doesn't help that I am 5' nothing tall...)

I think this means I may have a new hobby... hunting down platform wedges... Oh what a Rock n' Roll lifestyle I lead!

Oh and before I am told off.. No, I did not drive in these, and the christening well brilliantly.  A good time was had by all!

Congratulations beautiful little girl!

Oh and mini-me also had a good time by the looks of her in the car...

Bridesmaids

Over the last 12 months I have researched bridesmaids’ dresses intently. I know exactly what colour and length I want, but just needed to find something within a tight budget which would fit ladies from size 4-22...  Not easy I tell you!  I had loads of highly unhelpful suggestions such as certain high street shops which tailor for up to size 14, but no actual physical solutions... Then I decided to go shopping on the high street where a certain department store has an all singing all dancing coordinating bridal range!  

So off we went to Meadowhall and saw V my sister in law for advice on our makeup (shes an awesome talented make up guru).  Then next on the agenda was go try on dresses… with 20 minutes to closing time I frog marched my girls through Meadowhall at 08:40pm on a Monday night, occasionally glancing at my chief girl (akaThe Wife) in-case she had an allergic reaction to her foundation and ended up looking like a puffer fish. We swept through aforementioned high street shop to the bridal section grabbed whatever we could in the right size, (colour not an issue, as they don’t have the right colour in store anyway) and bolted for the changing rooms. Two or three dress changes in 15 minutes and they stand there looking all smart and elegant in their multicoloured dresses... NOT!  they were are all 2ft too long, too tight on the hips, hung off the bust, and generally were a weird shape!…. Who do they make them for? Pole dancing giants? Anorexic stilt walkers!? The Gruffalo's beanpole sister?

I have bought many a formal dress from high street shops without too many issues.  So why was the bridal range absolutely well and truly geared out with anti-fit?

Cue stress out,
Cue nasty shop lady who unceremoniously turfed us out and escorted us off the premises, (shame on you nasty unsmiling mean shop lady – we still had 5 minutes to go!)
Cue mini strop,
Cue pi** poor service at a very popular fast food venue where the acne ridden kid serving me just lobbed my chicken sandwich on the tray and glared at me as if I ruined his life... I wan't Lovin It I tell you.

Once I had calmed down after the mean lady evicted us in a highly unceremonious manner from the shop, I went back to the drawing board. I already had a second choice which was a dress by a designer called Romantica of Devon, but was worried it would turn out pricey and I would end up blowing budgets on dresses... so I went on a mission to find a stockist who could give me straight answers and all the reassurance I could get! Two weeks later I had an appointment with a dress shop 25 mins drive from home – result!

I decided not to take the whole troupe with me to the appointment as I considered the possibility of it being a waste of time dragging them all across Yorkshire if it’s another wasted trip, so my little sister, Mum and "The Wife" came in tow.

At the shop we stood and discussed themes, colours timescales etc etc whilst eyeing up the collection of dresses they had eager to get going. When we finally started looking at the various dresses they had to offer, something dawned on me – I liked them all! They were all gorgeous! And then they pulled out this gorgeous dress (I wont say anything about the style, but it looked stunning!) We chose a selection of 6 different styles and sent my sister and "The Wife"off to go get changed and do some modelling for me. My sister came out wearing the one I was most keen on – it definitely did not disappoint! It was stunning! Very simple in design, but also detailed enough to give it an edge – I wanted it! So much that when the girls tried on the other dresses I just wasn’t interested. They were dull, cheap looking or too over the top. I wanted the first one!

One problem – it was in a complete different colour to our colour scheme – would it look as good in the colour we wanted? Only one way to find out....
Dresses – Booked!

That was 6 months ago, the dresses have since arrived and have been waiting for us to go view them for approval.  I had been having flaps about them since booking...  will they look ok?  will they fit right?  will the girls like them?  I couldn't resist. Our next appointment was 2 months away, so I visited the shop myself to go for a sneak preview...  Yuss!!  I loved them!  Panic Over!  and when the girls tried them on a month later I was thrilled at how fabulous they all looked.  

One less thing to have to worry about... Now back to the cake issue!

Oh, and heres a sneak preview ;-) x