Bridezilla Moves to a New Office - and I go Bridezilla

For the first time since this blog started, I was prepared for what I was going to write about today. I had little pictures drawn, a quip or two planned in my head and the fire in my belly to put pen to paper. Or finger to keypad, more accurately. Basically, I was raring to go.

But then today happened, and everything changed - I had a new tale that I simply couldn't not tell in tonight's post. My preparation work was wasted (for this week, anyway), because I had to talk about a period of about 30 minutes this afternoon when I turned into Bridezilla for the first time.

And by that, I mean I suffered my first bout of wedding stress.

And by wedding stress, I mean wedding anger.

I was busy having a very constructive day at work when my mobile rang. It was a local number, but not one that I had saved to my phone so I was unaware as to the origin of the call. Imagine my excitement when the tinny voice on the end of the phone announced it was the bridal shop that I had ordered my beautiful, wonderful wedding dress from!

My heart was in my mouth. My dress! Surely it can't be here already?

No, it wasn't. In fact, it was very far from being here. The voice on the end of the phone started to ask if I was able to come in for the measurements for my dress. I was confused. Confusion swiftly turned to worry as a noise resembling a nervous giggle emanated from the phone, and the voice went on to confirm that they had actually got my measurements, and they were clearly marked on the piece of paper she was looking at. My worry deepened as the voice explained that the dress hadn't been ordered yet.

I quickly calculated the time that had passed since we had been into the shop and confirmed that we wished to purchase the dress that I had tried on. A wish that we confirmed by actually paying the full amount at the time. A method I had assumed meant the dress would be ordered immediately. The voice sounded uncertain as it tried to ensure my worry didn't turn into anger by politely explaining that the order form had been placed into the binder without anyone having the foresight to speak to the supplier about actually ordering it.

The voice's efforts were in vain. I had transformed from reasonable bride in a good mood to an uncalmable Bridezilla in full rage in a matter of seconds. If I was playing Buzz Word Bingo, the phrase 'bad service' would have been a frequent scorer given the number of times I managed to splutter it out in the angry rant that ensued. "My bridesmaids!" I went on to exclaim. "I can't get their dresses sorted until I have an offcut from the alterations from my dress that I can use to match colours!" Despite this being a fairly recent realisation, it became an incredibly important point for the purposes of this discussion. "I simply cannot afford to wait an additional five weeks to dress my bridesmaids, and now I have to magic the extra time out of nowhere" I continued in a haze of naivety at how Bridezilla-ish I had suddenly become "...all because of your BAD SERVICE", I finished with a satisfying flourish.

To give her credit, the voice at the end of the phone was very apologetic. And probably very embarrassed when she phoned back ten minutes later to confirm that actually, the order had been placed, but the all important piece of paper hadn't been updated to show that it had been done. In order to throw water on an unstable bride's anger, they've also requested a sample of the material from the supplier - due to arrive early next week - that I can use to get my bridesmaids' dresses sorted. I am under strict instructions to contact them if I have not heard anything by Wednesday.

While the shop hasn't shown itself in the best light, I have been reassured that my dress will not be late. However, that doesn't stop my concern about the speed at which I turned from a chilled out bride who is convinced that everything will fall into place, into a manic, furious monster who is convinced the world is crashing down when something doesn't go according to plan. I believe this means the wedding planning has officially begun (even though it has been casually underway for months). I don't think I am ready for the transformation.

I am, however, ready to post the next installment of Bridezilla, who appears to be getting more and more autobiographical as the weeks progress. Today, she is moving office, as I did this week - although fortunately, my transition was much less stressful than that suffered by our comic bride.

However, I would say that the brown lumps in the cup of tea were inspired entirely by real life... 

Bridezilla Goes for a Bike Ride - and I talk about hair accidents

I am lucky enough to not have to work Mondays, and until recently, I mainly spent them with my mum, being a lady that lunches and shops and talks wedding stuff. However, like all good things, it couldn't last forever - Mum has changed job and she is working Mondays at the new place. I am delighted for her - she always jokingly said she wanted to work at this particular place (and there is a good chance they make wedding cakes, which is excellent news for me and Fiance) - but it does mean that I now need to find ways of entertaining myself.

Today for example, I have mainly been scoffing at the poor quality of daytime TV, whilst simultaneously talking myself out of cutting a fringe into my hair (which by the way, is finally moving away from black towards a very dark brown instead - albeit very slowly). I know the sensible thing is to book myself an appointment at the hairdressers and let a professional do it, but that means enduring the mind-numbing conversation that neither of us particularly wishes to make, with the alternative being a very lengthy awkward silence if one does attempt a jabber-free wash and chop. So I have been putting that off for about... well about a year, in all honesty. But I would like a new fringe to accompany the new colour and as a result, I have only just managed to manhandle my willpower into agreeing that it is potentially a very bad idea to do it myself. This is hopefully a sign that I am finally learning some things are best left to the people who know what they're doing.

While the majority of my hair experiments have gone as planned, there are plenty in the back catalogue that have not. Like when teenage me decided that my addiction to Sun In should finally came to an end after a year and a half, and that an autumnal brown would be a much better colour instead. The very blond shade of blond that I had achieved from the lightening spray did not go autumnal brown. It went pillar box red.

That was my first ever self created hair error. I thought I would learn.

I did not. A few years of brown/black later, I decided wanted to be blond again. Hey I'd done it before, everything would be fine, right? Wrong. The last colour hadn't completely faded, but had started to grow out, which left a rather unusual result on my head. Not unexpected, now I apply logic and hindsight to the situation, but at the time I was horrified to see myself in the mirror sporting a white blond one inch strip where the naturally coloured roots had been, the remainder presenting itself as bright bright orange, and the entirety adopting a texture that can only be described as reminiscent of a straw bale.

At least if it was all one colour it would have been consistent, no matter how awful. But it felt like that white stripe was there to spite me, to remind me how stupid I was to think I was able to handle such a drastic change by myself.

Despite my own personal mishaps however, it was an incident that happened to a school friend of mine that really set the smackdown on my 'gah, do it, cut yourself a fringe' attitude. Realising her fringe was due a cut, and rather than mentioning it to her mum in order to get a trip to the hairdressers sorted, she decided to do it herself. And she sneezed just as she put scissor to hair.

While I am still not sure I have entirely quashed the voice that says 'just do it' , this tale in particular has kept me on the straight and narrow. For today anyway.

And now that my disasters are out of the way, it's on to see what is awaiting Bridezilla today as she goes for a bike ride. Things will go wrong, but at least her hair doesn't appear to have suffered any disasters...