lusciousbeast-blog

[lusciousbeast-blog]

THREE (more to go).

*Edit: Since I started writing this in early May, there are now only TWO more to go.

I know I can’t be the only woman alive to have figured out far in advance whether or not she would be bleeding on her wedding day, given that most of us have popped the proverbial cherry long before we spend our first night in matrimonial bliss, and the only bleeding we need worry about is that which accompanies the dreaded period.

I think I left off somewhere between having a near nervous breakdown, being incapacitated by back pain (read: emotional turmoil) and having just lost my cushy gig as the on-air promo voice for Slice. AKA one of the worst Januaries ever.

That was SIX months ago. Hahaha. I think it’s safe to say that I am at the very least, consistently, inconsistent.

About a week after I thought I was for sure dying, I was back at the Naturopath to get my food sensitivity test results. Unsurprisingly, they showed heightened reactivity to all things I love- yeast, wheat, potatoes, dairy, corn, and then, some others that I found slightly odd- peas, plums, mustard and kidney beans. Translation: craft beer, fresh baked bread, potato chips, cream in my coffee, guac and chips and vegan protein powder; all things which were plentiful in my life,

When you dig a little deeper however, all of these foods are also implicated in cases of candida so none of it was super shocking, as Candida overgrowth is something I suspect many of us are dealing with on a regular basis (and that goes for men too- it goes beyond icky vaginal yeast infections - that shit can take over your entire digestive tract!)

Anyhoo, I tried to do as was suggested and avoid the offenders for the recommended 3 week period, and made it about 14 days before I threw in the towel. Maybe I’m not ready, maybe I just don’t care enough yet, but for now, my beer, pastries and guacamole and chips are staying very much present in my life. While many health gurus might argue the opposite, for me, planning one of the biggest and sometimes most stressful days of your life, is NOT the time to deprive yourself of life’s simple pleasures. I type this as I sit at my favorite local coffee shop sipping on an almond milk latte after having devoured in record time, the most delicious, fluffy blueberry scone. YUM! If I can’t rely on the stimulating effects of caffeine and the glorious sugar spike of the white carbs, what the fuck am I supposed to do?

(In truth, I’m too weak to give any of it up right now, and keep telling myself that AFTER the wedding, I will redirect some of the energy spent on planning, into a long period of self-betterment.)

Shortly after that visit, my naturopath went on mat leave, and while I’m sure she’s back by now (because I’m lazy and it’s been 6 months since I last wrote), I’m too scared to go back for a visit just yet, only to have to admit my failings, AND have her potentially tell me the only reason I’m not dead, is because I’m running on some kind of super human adrenaline supply, that is going to run out on August 12th.

Anyhoo. As much as I’d hoped that I’d have some new perfect voice job by now, that is not the case. It seems the universe has deemed this a period to be filled with endless challenges with the odd accomplishment thrown in for good measure.  Since January I have:

Taken an audition course, and realized I kind of hate everything about the way I look and act on camera.

Almost not gotten a contract I was banking on - the Junos - forcing me to acknowledge that my laissez faire approach to life might need to be adjusted slightly - only to find out at the last minute that they’d amazingly managed to carve out a position for me (endless gratitude, TG).

Semi-trained for a half marathon, which I ran in early May, with one of my nearest and dearest, Julie, in a time faster than our goal. Best part? I actually enjoyed it!

Dealt with, on a regular basis, the realities of being a step parent to a teenage boy. Hint: it’s the complete opposite of being run over by a gazillion fluffy puppies (unless you are allergic to dogs).

Had one of the best days ever, being in studio recording a song for a very special wedding production.

Been slowly working on being more honest and trying not to react to every small criticism and differing opinion, like it’s a personal attack/end of the world. Expert tip: when you work in events, this becomes easier and easier, because, crazy people. 

Above all, I am trying daily, to maintain hope, in a continually unpredictable and often scary global political climate, while also not completely shutting out, but trying to listen and understand the large amount of people who share views very opposed to my own. Not going to lie though - when it seems that all the racists, bigots and misogynists are crawling out of the woodwork, this is getting increasingly difficult. But still, I’m trying. 

Now, on to the more frivolous, non-serious stuff.

THE COUNTDOWN CHECKLIST

There was likely a few months , early on in the process, where I was kicking the shit out of any kind of wedding prep checklist. Now, I’m guessing that I’ve fallen behind. Let’s take a look:

According to the Real Simple Wedding planner, the following things should have been done by now:

#1 - Start a wedding folder/binder.  This is number one of the list and in their minds, should have been started ages ago. I have a folder with the package breakdown from our venue, along with an endless list of phone reminders, and mental list of what is still left to do.  I assume this counts?

#2 - Budget. We had one. It’s since exploded into a giant ball of flames. We’re here for a good time, not a long time. 

#3. - Pick wedding party. I have way too many really close friends to make this kind of decision and consider myself seriously fortunate to have that problem. Naturally my answer was to inform (not ask) my original besties- my older siblings - that they would be my bridal party. That’s how it works right? Craig did the same with his boys, because I’ve learned with what little experience I’ve had parenting, that you can’t always give kids the choice.

#4 (my favorite number) Start guest list.

I did this on day two of being engaged. It’s been growing steadily since, hence our complete disregard for #2.

As well, in no particular order, we should have:

-      Booked officiant (Thank you Steve Patterson)

-      Researched Photographers (done ages ago, and locked down, going to be great)

-      Booked entertainment (done and done, it’s going to be GOODTIMES)

-      Purchased the dress (it’s done, and I LOVE IT)

-      Reserved a block of hotel rooms for out of town guests (that would be all of us, the resort doesn’t know what’s coming)

-      Shopped for bridesmaids dresses (not havin’ ‘em)

-      Met with officiant (beers in the backyard count, yes?)

-      Booked a florist (I have the world’s most amazing step-mum, who has swooped in to save the day on this one)

-      Started composing a day of timeline (ummmm, yeah….?)

-      Selected and ordered the cake (also world’s most amazing aunt, who is using her most excellent baking skills to pump out a boat load of cupcakes).

-      Scheduled hair and make-up (this was done in September – I mean, priorities).

-      Chosen music (it’s an ongoing process, but yes, the important stuff is chosen, and it’s going to be great).

Now, we are in the final two month stretch (my stomach just flipped, as I said that to myself), and Real Simple says at this point we should:

#1. Finalize menu and flowers – check and check.

#2. Order favours, if desired.

We don’t think we are doing favours, because in my experience (I work a ton of weddings) it’s a colossal waste. Still sort of on the fence, however. There was a time about 6 months ago where I REALLY wanted to make everyone soap, because I LOVE homemade soap. Then I took a soap making workshop and realized that to make homemade soap free of palm oil (in solidarity with the Orangutans), you have to use lye, and lye can do really bad things if you in any way don’t use it properly. I decided I didn’t want to turn our apartment in chemical experiment and risk burning my ring finger off before the big day. Also, our guest list grew, and we literally don’t have space for all that soap to cure. So, at the very least, we can promise that instead, we will send our guests away with a a head full of great memories (depending on their consumption at the bar).

#3. Make a list of the people giving toasts.

Multiple checks. We are prepared to get roasted.

#4. Purchase Undergarments.

I don’t have to wear a bra with my glorious dress, which is AMAZING. Sadly, I do have to wear underwear (I have a tendency to piddle when I laugh too hard – I am after all, almost 40). This is still on my to-do list.

#5. Purchase rings.

Hahahahaha. This makes me giggle. Craig proposed to me with my ring, because he’s a smart man who knows I don’t do rocks. He then got really jealous of my ring, and decided to order his too, so, you know, they would have equal amounts of wear at the wedding (he didn’t want to upstage me with a shiny new ring when I’d been wearing mine for 18 months – so considerate!). So yeah, we are SUPER on top of this one.

#6. Touch base with Vendors.

By touching base, I assume they mean “send multiple emails daily”, right? I have no doubt our venue coordinator will be high fiving herself when she’s done with our wedding. I have (I’m pretty sure) in spite of all my efforts, become “that” person. We’re going to get her a really nice bottle of something at the end of all this. The next prize goes to Ian, my pseudo brother and band leader/AV guy/DJ, who re-assures me on the regular, that he is on top of everything – translation “you’re crazy and need to calm the F down.” HAHAHAHHAHA. Yeah. Right.

All in all, I think we are in great shape. I did start crying when I convinced myself that our band members were going to drop out one by one, only to realize a few hours later, when getting hit with ferocious cramps, that my tears were definitely courtesy of my uterus, and that all will be OK.

Edit –

It is now 7 weeks and change until we get hitched, and in the past week I’ve found out that someone in my Fight To End Cancer family has been diagnosed with breast cancer, at the age of 30. WTF. It makes anything that I have been freaking out about so fucking small in comparison, as I’m reminded that life is completely out of our control, and we owe it to ourselves to live the best one we can, given the situation we are in.  I sincerely hope someone will slap me if I show any signs of morphing into bridezilla on Aug 11th(or in the days leading up to it), because the flowers, the votives, the weather – NONE of it really matters. 

Over the weekend, I witnessed a mother of a bride freaking out about the fact that the shortbread that she (no doubt painstakingly made), was not being replenished to her liking (there were two rounds on the table at any give time, along with fruit cake, AND wedding cake). NOBODY CARES. Could you imagine the conversation the next day?

“Oh my, I was so appalled when so and so let the short bread count fall below such and such a number, leaving the guest with nothing but fruit cake and a delicious wedding cake, that THE BRIDE MADE HERSELF. And, oh, such shame about those kids.” Seriously. Fuck off.  (And I mean that in the kindest way possible)

On that glorious note, I plan on re-focusing my energy on the explosive amounts of love energy that are flowing through me when I think about all my favourite people converging for one epic weekend. It’s going to be the best. 

xo

LB

[lusciousbeast-blog]

219.

Initially, writing about getting married seemed like a GREAT idea. Now, judging by the fact that I’ve barely managed to write once every six weeks or so, the whole thing seems rather pointless. Even now, my brain is really struggling to put a sentence together, due mostly in part to the fact that it’s completely clogged, courtesy of my overconsumption of cheese and eggnog over the past few weeks (if you haven’t tried the Harmony Organic Eggnog, do yourself a favour and get some next Christmas– it’s fucking incredible).  

Time feels like it’s racing. Normally, when I have something really big to look forward to, everything seems to grind to a halt. Not so when you’re planning a wedding. We are now officially less than 8 months away from getting hitched. Now, I know 8 months to most people probably seems like a long time, but when I think it’s been more than that since we got back from Zimbabwe, it’s mental to me. While I’m obviously ridiculously excited to be marrying Craig, the anxiety that has come along with all of it, is overwhelming. So much so, that when I started seeing a naturopath recently, she told me that to her, my body seems like it’s in a constant state of Fight or Flight.

 (In all likelihood, this is something that has been building for a while, long before Craig asked me to be his forever person).

Most of my adult life has been spent planning the next big event to look forward to, while juggling multiple jobs and constantly changing my mind about what I want to be when I grow up. Not one to settle into one thing too easily, (I get SUPER bored if I’m under stimulated), I think it’s all catching up to me now.

When reading all the magazines and other stuff that is the creation of the gazillion dollar wedding industry, I have yet to see an honest account of the “not so pretty” bits of planning what is often billed as the BIGGEST EVENT OF YOUR LIFE.  So that’s going to be my mission today – sharing with y’all some of the things that to date, have almost broken me. In no particular order, here we go.

 BUILDING A WEDDING WEBSITE

Back in the summer, Craig and I were at an audition for a show that was looking for a real-life couple to co-host. While in the waiting room,  we ran in to some friends of his, and he told them about our engagement. After congratulations were given, the husband offered some advice – enjoy every second of it, and know that you will likely get into one big ‘ish fight during the planning process.

SUPER!

When it came to invites, we decided to scrap the whole paper invite thing. For one, because it seems like such an absurd waste of paper, and two, that money could be better spent on say, the open bar, or our photographer, or our kick ass wedding band, or pretty much ANYTHING.  

I’d also perused a bunch of websites and thought it would be a creatively fulfilling process. WRONGO!

After doing the initial research as to what were the most user friendly and aesthetically pleasing sites to use, I started my trial with WeddingWindow. After running into bumps early on (difficulty with picture layout and such), I moved on to (and quickly ditched) WedSite, SquareSpace, Wix and Luvbirds,  before finally deciding to bite the bullet and use Riley and Grey, because they were having a Black Friday 50% off sale. All the sites I tried before them were missing key elements, or were annoying when it came to picture layout and such. Riley and Grey looked very promising, and was going very smoothly, until I tried to upload the picture for the Welcome page, and was met with the spinning wheel of death on my computer screen. This went on for several attempts, at which point I sent a very choicely worded, totally passive aggressive email to customer support, outlining my issue, and explaining, “politely” that what was supposed to be a fun part of an even more fun event, was filling me with rage and almost resulted in my basically brand new computer meeting a premature death.

The gentleman from their support team who got back to me fairly quickly, was incredibly apologetic and spewed out a bunch of tech speak the jist of which, was telling me that they’d just switched their photo editing platform, because Adobe (who powered it previously) basically sucked. I responded with a huge thank you, that I hadn’t quite pulled all my hair out yet, and that he’d saved my iMac from being chucked off my balcony.

I’m pleased to report that the website is now finished, filled with loads of fun pictures and information, and that I checked that fucker off my list.

 THE DRESS

Hm. The Dress. Turns out that buying off the rack is probably the simpler way to go. I’ll keep it simple here by saying that after my first fitting with the dress maker (thankfully only with a cotton muslin version of it), something wasn’t sitting right. I looked frumpy, and the more I thought about it the more I panicked about moving forward with the current design. After much back and forth with my dressmaker (who is LOVELY) and a huge amount of very constructive input from my step-mother, I’m starting from scratch with a new, similar, but more modern and clean version of the initial inspiration I went in with. I was supposed to have the first consultation for this new look last week, but the good old TTC (Toronto’s transit system) ensured that I missed that appointment, even though I gave myself almost two hours to get there. World Class City, incredibly sub-par public transport.

I will report on the progress in the early part of the new year.

 THE TIMELINE

Between all the different weddings I’ve attended and the ones I’ve worked, you’d think I’d have the timeline down. It’s proven to be one of the most anxiety inducing parts. Largely, I think, due to the fact that when I think about things like walking down the aisle with 150 people watching, and giving a wedding speech, I want to throw up a little. My cousin - who is an actor - shared this sentiment when she told me that in spite of her comfort with performing, the thing that she was most unprepared for on her wedding day, was how uncomfortable she felt in the above- mentioned situations. So, I guess it’s normal? Regardless, wanting to make sure people aren’t bored at ANY point, is a big deal. From what I’ve witnessed, most wedding timelines aren’t fully adhered too anyway. This doesn’t change that fact that I think it’s hilarious and sad all at the same time, that someone (me) who organizes the hell out of her life, crumbles at the thought of putting together a timeline, for ONE DAY.

 THE GUEST LIST

Craig can confirm, that barely 48 hours after he proposed, while we were on the flight from Harare to Victoria Falls, I’d already done a rough guest list. Initially I think we both thought we’d be able to contain it to 120 or so people. At last count, I think we’d invited 182 (including kids, who may get left behind).  Our guest list seems to have exploded, and we don’t even have big families to blame! What we feel very confident about however, is that we have the makings for one of the best parties, ever. We both agreed that looking back we’d be more regretful of certain people not being there, than the money we saved trying to contain things. After all, your wedding day is quite possibly the only other time apart from your funeral, where you can bring all the people you love most in the world, together at the same time, and THAT my friends, is pretty awesome.

 QUESTIONING EVERY LITTLE GOD DAMN BIT OF YOUR LIFE

Perhaps it has more to do with the fact that our wedding date is uncomfortably close to when I will turn 40, but the past few months have been filled with self-doubt, fear of the future, questions about my choice (or lack thereof) in career path, guilt over the way I handle certain situations, etc. etc. etc. If it can be doubted, it seems I will doubt it! Thankfully, the one thing I have not doubted, even for one second, is my choice in partner. I am reminded of this on a daily basis. I have managed to find someone who indulges my every impulse (from buying Wally’s World Mugs to drink eggnog out of while watching Christmas Vacation, to immediately agreeing to spontaneous road trips to visit friends, to jumping into the gorge of Victoria Falls attached to a bunjee chord), embraces all my quirks, and stands by patiently, as I anally retentively count every piece of rice his 11 yr has just dropped on the floor while eating take out. That, my friends, is called HITTING THE JACK POT.

 ACKNOWLEDGING THAT CERTAIN THINGS MAY NOT GO AS PLANNED

When I wrote this (last week) I was on a train to Morrisburg to start our Christmas rounds with family and friends. On New Years Eve, I barely made it to midnight, was having body aches and chills, and was dealing with an angry back.

The next night, Jan 1st, 2018, I could barely move without feeling like someone was stabbing me in the back.

Here comes the raw truth of what has been going through my mind now, for several months. I’m TERRIFIED of dying. Always have been.  Even more so now that I have a wedding date a little less than 8 moths away. Usually an optimist, now that I have a date looming I can’t help but think about all the possible ways the universe might interfere with me actually getting to that day.

On January 1st, I felt like death. Exhausted from all the visiting, and over indulging, and sleeping in older, not so supportive beds, AND dealing with INTENSE back pain, as well as an upset stomach, my mind got flooded with memories of my mother when she was going through chemo. Before I knew what was happening, I was uncontrollably sobbing, because I am SO scared of ever having to go through it too.  I don’t know how long this lasted, but I can tell you in that moment, when Craig held me and let me cry so hard I was hyperventilating (at which point he helped calm me down, you know, so I could breathe), I’ve never been more certain that this one part of my life, is super solid. Craig is there with me in my most vulnerable moments, free of judgement, always.

The next morning, after another sleepless, pain filled night, I found out that a contract I’ve had for 4 and half years, was coming to an end, due to a network re-brand. A day I knew would come eventually, just with really sucky timing in this case. Again, Craig was there at my side as I cried. And cried. And cried some more.  In my “PLAN,” this job would have kept going at least until the end of the year, allowing me a little breathing room after I got married, to figure out my next move.

It was not to be.

Today, I’m feeling a little more optimistic. I’ve had a few different physical therapy sessions on my back, and am trying to look at the bright side of not being bound to a weekly gig. I’m choosing to put my energy into focusing on what’s next, the possibilities that await, and mostly, that I have the partner I do, to move through all the unknown with.

What has this got to do with the wedding?

We can try and plan the shit out of this wedding, but the reality is, some things might get dropped along the way, or may not go down exactly the way we picture it in our heads, because that’s life.

Chances are the one thing I can guarantee, is that I will be a blubbery mess (tears of joy obvi) because I get to marry Craig , surrounded by most of my favourite people on the planet. Can’t get much better than that really. 

[lusciousbeast-blog]

The Weight of Marriage

When you google “funny marriage memes” the following is just one of many “hilarious” results.

Life seems to racing by me right now. It’s been six weeks now since I last wrote about this whole process - one which I thought was going to become a weekly blog - and all of a sudden we are less than nine months out from saying “I do”. 

SHIT’S. GETTING. REAL.

9 months. The length of a pregnancy. Or a school year. Or the time it takes to train for something really big (which is kind of what this feels like). Training to the rest of my life, more importantly, my relationship, and everything that comes with it. 

When things got serious between Craig and me (CSSP- where are you?), I’d be lying if there wasn't a small part of me that felt like life was repeating itself. You see, Craig has two kids, who at the time, I have no doubt, still really wanted their family to be back together. Though I’ve never lived through divorce, I have lost a parent, and remember as a kid having a very real sense of the fact that divorce was a thing, and I never wanted it to happen to my family. 

Losing a parent is also really, really shitty. I was just shy of my 12th birthday when my mum died, after a three year battle with cancer. It was brutal. 

I went into a downward spiral not long after. What started as an attempt to clean up my diet so I wouldn't suffer that same fate as my mum, quickly took hold of my life. When my world was falling apart, I discovered I could control food. This “take my life into my own hands” approach soon turned into full blown anorexia, a six week hospital stay, several relapses and years of therapy. 

This isn’t a blog about my eating disorder though. It’s about what comes with marriage.

When my dad met my stepmother Sigi, my initial reaction was what I’m guessing most kids go through when a parent moves on. I was sad, because I selfishly thought that my Dad would go through the rest of his life single and mourning the loss of my mum, and, that was that. I realized pretty quickly that Sigi was one of the best things to ever happen to my life, and more importantly, my Dads. She has helped me through countless real life struggles, and no doubt helped my Dad through many more. They are a great team (I also credit her for keeping him looking as young as he does). 

There are many days where I wonder how the hell she did it. I think anyone who takes on parenthood is a fucking saint, so I’ll just come out and say it. Being a step-parent is HARD. It’s also really scary. If you think the odds of getting a divorce are high, you should see the odds of getting a divorce when you’re marrying someone with kids. Not good. And I totally get it. In many cases - such as my own - getting involved with someone who has kids means essentially being launched full throttle into a battle you have you have basically no training for. Like I’m a paper rocket, and I’m going up against North Korea. (Thankfully, my love of toilet talk helped me win the kids over - especially the younger one -  in the early stages of our relationship - specifically, this magnet). 

And because we only get the kids every second weekend, I haven’t experience proper full time parenting at all until earlier this year, when Craig’s eldest moved with us for six months. Full disclosure -  there were days when I wasn’t so sure I could handle it. Not only were we adding one other person to a not huge space, but we had to figure out how to co-exist, all of us respecting each others space and things, while also ensuring to contribute to the household on a regular basis. I realized a lot of stuff about myself in those six months, namely I’m incredibly anal about certain things (pee on the toiler seat, pillows on the floor, dishwashing techniques), but mostly that I’m not great when I feel like I’ve lost control. 

(If you’re wondering where all this is going, you're not alone -  so am I). 

It’s just that, it’s been on my mind a lot lately. Because as I’m getting increasingly overwhelmed by putting together a wedding website, (so that we can save money and trees), I’m also constantly thinking about how I can support Craig while he parents two kids, (one of which is a struggling teen) while still trying to maintain my sanity AND remain empathetic to whatever it it they’re going through, because I’ve been there.

Most of the time though, I feel completely helpless. 

But still, I’m taking a chance against the odds. While I start looking into a subscription to Step-Mom Magazine and researching life insurance policies, I’m choosing to put my head down, and take on whatever it is that life, marriage and step-kids throw at me. For love. For Laughter. For happiness. Because those three things have been more abundant in my life since meeting Craig, than I could have every hoped for. 

In 270 days, I will be saying “I do” to this incredible human who I can’t imagine my life without.  I will also be saying “I do” to his kids. To always having their best interests at heart. To being the best role model I can be. To giving them tough love. To being a loving and reliable partner to their Dad. To never giving up. And to never stop resorting to toilet humour (it wins every time). 

TBC. 

[lusciousbeast-blog]

I’m Just Not That Kinda Girl.

And no, I’m not making some subtle reference to the fact that I won’t do anal, or have zero interest in a threesome. I’m talking wedding gowns. 

The evolution of my dress shopping journey has gone something like this: 

I’m totally NOT wearing white on my wedding day - I’m going to be different!

Several weeks later and much convincing from certain friends and family members..

OK, maybe I’ll give it a go - but ONLY so I can be totally certain, and let’s face it, there are WAY more white (or off-white, champagne, blush) wedding dresses to choose from. 

After trying on my first few gowns..

 This is as close to feeling like a princess as I’m ever going to come - why am I not happier?

 And a few more…

“Nothing about this process is to be taken seriously!”

And several more…

“LOOK! I’m a swan!”

And, even MORE….

“I CAN look grown up and sophisticated!” (But still not sold).

And in my attempt to look like this:

I got this:

“Not QUITE like the model, but my butt does look pretty good…”

FINALLY, there were these:

I did really love the back (or rather, lack thereof) on the one above. Ultimately though, when it came down to imagining the day, I couldn’t really picture myself in any of the gowns I tried on. While I have a real appreciation for the beauty of most of them, let’s face it - I’m a sweaty beast who’s getting married in August, doesn’t like to be restricted, and, given my track record at destroying delicate things, would be lucky if the dress made it to the ceremony in one piece. I’ve decided to go the custom route, and I feel really good about it. 

AND, the great part about this, is that I am right on schedule according to the Countdown Calendar in the September/October issue of The Knot, who say at 10 months prior, the following should be accomplished:

- Select and order wedding gown - CHECK

- If ceremony or reception is to be held in a park or recreational area, obtain necessary permits - NA

- Discuss attendants’ duties with your maid of honour and bridesmaids. SEE BELOW

We aren’t having a traditional wedding party, partly because I would be the lunatic with 15 bridesmaids, but mostly because I have two siblings and Craig has two kids. Even Steven. And when it comes to discussing anything, mostly it’s been my sister telling me that under no circumstance can I wear mint green or make her do the same (one of the non-white dresses I showed her a pic of, was apparently very offensive in colour). She is also my official blog proof reader and has taken on the pseudonym of CSSP - Cunty Sister Spelling Police, bringing the total count of profanities used, to three (assuming you think the term “anal”, in the context above, is profane). 

Everything else seems to be on track. I lost a few weeks because I let Nashville take over my life (all bride-to-be’s should have to abstain from Netflix during their planning process). 48 episodes later, and a few extra days to heal the emotional wounds of the last season, I’m ready to keep moving forward. Until next time!

xo 

LB

P.S. I now have EIGHT bridal magazines - can you fucking believe it?

CSSP APPROVED (rather, it will be within hours after posting)

[lusciousbeast-blog]

The Godzilla Show

This pretty much sums up how I felt about the Toronto Bridal show. It’s taken me over a week to post about it because that’s how much time I’ve needed to recover - not at all because I’m inconsistent and procrastinate like crazy.

Deep breath. 

My first experience with The Bridal Show came when I worked at Lonestar. At the time, it was right across the street from the Metro Toronto Convention Centre and usually the first place hordes of women would come, in various states of mood, once they’d been chewed up and spit out by the many wedding related companies hawking their services. 

As staff, it was right up there with the body building show on the loathing scale. Like, one of the most hated weekends of the year to work. Generally, the women who came in were cranky, would order a shitty Lonestar garden salad (vinaigrette on the side of course), and countless vodka sodas or Diet Coke. And who can blame them really? It’s confusing being a bride-to-be at a bridal show! What kind of message are you supposed to get when every booth has a massive fish bowl filled with chocolate and/or candy, while simultaneously trying to sell you liposuction, so you can look “flawless” on your big day and fit into the monstrosity of a dress you spent thousands of dollars on, without feeling like your spanks have given you three extra ass lines. 

Needless to say, I was feeling more than a little bit nauseated at the idea of going. 

Upon arrival, I immediately felt like I didn’t belong. For one, most women in attendance had at least one other person with them, but in many cases, their entire bridal party, mother, aunt, and...and....I’d opted to go solo because a) my sister wouldn't be caught dead at such an event, and b) dragging someone else along felt like something only a bad friend would do. 

My first sucker stop was at the LipSense table - a lipstick brand that claims “LipColor that lasts, until you take it off.” Truer words have never been spoken. I hesitantly applied the required three coats of lip colour, followed by the gloss that you have to let fully dry before touching your lips together (because why, I was to afraid to ask), and then asked the brand rep if the product would come off with any old make up remover. Without much confidence she replied “Yes, but we strongly recommend you use our special brand of remover.” I quickly understood why. Turns out to get the kiss proof/smudge proof poison off my lips, you needed something akin to paint thinner. Thankfully, I decided to stop by the booth again before leaving the show. Even their “special” remover took longer than made me comfortable to get my lips back to normal, on top of making my kisser feel like it was slowly being eaten away by acid. The best part? You could buy the gloss AND the lip colour for the low low “Bridal Show” special price of $65 plus tax.

Fuck off LipSense. Fuck. Right. Off. 

I’ll happily re-apply something more natural on my big day 20 times over, if it means I don’t have to feel like I dunked my lips in a vat of industrial lye, even it means Craig looks like he got attacked by a pack of hormone ravaged 20 yr olds. 

Other observations? A jewelry stand that had so much tacky bling it could probably blind you, tables of cake samples that tasted like they'd been defrosted only hours earlier, whose moisture wasn’t so much from the cake itself, but the melted freezer burn, and lastly, one too many cheesy DJ services playing terrible remixes of great 80′s tunes. To top it all off, while a few of the higher end bridal shops had stands with a selection of lovely gowns, for the most part, the dresses on display looked like some version of this little gem, that someone was ACTUALLY paid to design. Oh please, please, PLEASE can I look like a mermaid covered in taffeta on my wedding day?! 

After a failed attempt at finding the station that was sampling wine, in a little under an hour and a half, and one too many mediocre cake samples later, I decided to call it quits. Thankfully, the price of admission was made up for by the fact that I walked away with two new bridal magazines, bringing my total count to six. Six more than I ever thought I would ever own in my lifetime. The little planning guide will definitely come in useful, because as it turns out, this whole ordeal is all consuming. 

On a more positive note, entering all the free vacation giveaways was made much easier by the fact that every bridal show attendee had to make and wear, an ID badge that allowed all vendors to simply scan a barcode and BOOM, you’re entered into a contest to win a luxury honeymoon to somewhere tropical at the same time as giving away all your personal information and your freedom. I have yet to receive a call informing me that I’ve won. Till the next time. 

xo

LB

[lusciousbeast-blog]

The Bride Is The Beast.

Holy shit balls. I’m getting married.

…

I never really believed I’d get married. Sure, it has occupied much of my mind’s real estate for the greater part of my life, but I didn’t actually think anyone would want me, you know, till death do us part and all that. 

I realize that might sound incredibly defeatist for someone who has a “Defeat is Not an Option” emblazoned on her forearm, but truth is, I also don’t think I truly believed that the ideal man I’d created in my very overactive imagination existed.  Two serious relationships down, one of them nearly a decade long, at 32, I found myself single again and, along with the masses, struggled as I tried to navigate a dating pool that was mostly terrifying, sometimes thrilling and often, very messy. I convinced myself that marriage was dumb, weddings a total waste of money and that generally, the whole ordeal made people crazy. Man, these grapes are sour!

After almost two years, my heart (and liver) needed a break, and I came to the very adult realization that my life as it was, filled with amazing friends and family, along with a job I didn’t hate topped off by my relative health, was plenty enough for me.  

Then, I met Craig.

Initially, I thought he was a total grumpy pants. He used to come into the bar where I worked and not really engage much. He would order his whiskey on the rocks (he was strict Paleo at the time) and kind of just put his head down in a way that screamed “don’t even try and talk to me!” Eventually though, his walls came down ever so slightly and he became a bar buddy. But that was it. In a relationship at the time, he was very much off market, so to consider him any other way would have been pointless.

A few months into our bar buddyship, he mentioned he was doing a play. I decided to go, and not only was the play great, his performance was responsible for many laugh out loud (really loud) moments on my part - how could grumpy pants be this insanely talented and hilarious performer I was witnessing? Mind. Blown. 

It wasn’t until two days later when he came into the bar I realised I was full blown crushing on the guy. Ugh. 

Or maybe not. 

To make a long story a little less long, it came out in conversation that his relationship had ended. While I felt bad for the guy (break ups really do suck), I was definitely not sad to hear this news.

In what was very likely a rebound move, he asked me to come meet him for a drink after his show was done that night. Why the hell not, I thought. How does that saying go? “In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take?”

After he left, his friend Steve showed me a text he’d received from Craig - it said “Upsell me dude.” I chuckled*

“No upsell required” was my reply.

A few hours later I was on my first official date with Craig and feeling more screwed by the minute. I liked him. Like, A LOT. To boot, Steve and his lovely wife Nancy, along with some of their friends, ended up joining us, and I remember thinking to myself – “This is what it should feel like.” It was so easy hanging out with everyone. And I LAUGHED. A little after midnight, we’d had our first kiss, and the rest really is history.

While there were countless occasions where I thought maybe I was getting in over my head, or that he needed more time, I also couldn’t deny what was happening. I was falling insanely head over heels in love, and it was like nothing I’d ever experienced.  We moved in together 6 months later. (My present day self would likely tell my 32 yr old self to go running in the other direction. Thankfully, my 32 yr old self was impulsive and didn’t care about much more than what was directly in front of her).

 “Don’t miss out on something that could be amazing, because it could also be difficult”

~ Some random quote I found on Pinterest which accurately sums up how I felt every time I wondered whether Craig was ready for me.

Flash forward to April of this year. One of my oldest childhood friends was getting married in Zimbabwe, where I spent some of my most formative years. Craig and I had decided over several pints the year before, that there was no way were going to miss the opportunity to go there together. (It’s really hard to fully explain the beauty that is Africa without having the other person experience it.) Going back “home” with Craig was a dream come true. In our four and half years together, we have gone on many trips (we both love to travel) but this was by far the biggest and most important to date. As I expected, he fell in love with it – the people, the land, the animals – two weeks was never going to be enough.  

We’d set aside one day to make sure that I got to show him all my old haunts – the public school I went to, the house I grew up in, and most importantly, the swimming pool where I spent half my waking hours training (I was a top seeded competitive swimmer – I can say that without sounding like an asshole, because I was 12).

It almost didn’t happen.

When we rolled up to the pool entrance, the gate was closed, and there was a collective gasp as we realized that, because it was Independence Day, it was likely closed to the public. Fortunately thought, before the tears started Coraleigh noticed that the utility gate was open, so naturally, we let ourselves in.

Around the pool sat three security guards, not really fussed by our trespassing, whose only instructions were “don’t go in the water.” No Problemo.  

Minutes later we were sitting down to take a picture, and this happened.

I’m really fucking glad I took that chance, and that I booked that flight to Edmonton to see his play, and that I’ve made all the other crazy decisions I have. Because Craig is my person, and WE ARE GETTING MARRIED! (Don’t call me his fiancée though, I might throw up a little in my mouth). 

Next up: The Bridal Show. 

Old me would have rolled her eyes at the very thought. New me thinks, what a great opportunity to try and win free stuff.  If you hear from me again next week, you’ll know I made it out alive.

 *In the restaurant industry, “upselling” is the act of convincing the guest that they want something they didn’t initially come in for/think they wanted, in order to rack up a higher bill.  As a practice, I loathed it, and generally refused to partake. If it was going to cost me my job, so be it – at least I didn’t feel like I was selling my soul.