The Wedding: Part 3 – What’s All The Kerfuffle About?

Today I was writing important dates on our new 2016 calendar, including that of our wedding (!!!).

Our wedding planning has so far been remarkably calm, our biggest issue to date is that we agree on things quickly and then take months to actually act on our decisions.

I had to reassure our save the date designers that yes, we had paid in September and yes, we loved the proof and didn’t want any changes, but it was taking a million years for either of us to work out what bleed we needed before we could have them printed (full bleed, we discovered after about 30 seconds of Googling).

The venue was similar, we saw it, we loved it, we booked it and the venue owner continues to be puzzled about why we haven’t toured it with her yet.

I bought my shoes on Etsy a few weeks ago and they’re currently lying splayed under the TV, where I left them after stomping around in them scared the dogs.

I’ve walked down the aisle in a white dress once before (Catholic school year 12 graduation) and have no desire to wear white ever again, so picking an outfit has been a lot of fun, though my proclivity for Addams Family-esque dress means my search history has turned up a lot dresses specifically marked as funeral wear.

Really the only sticking point for me is the celebrant. I’ve been to weddings where the celebrant called the bride four or five different names, none of them correct. At another, the celebrant sounded like she was a Playschool presenter reading erotica.

I need someone who’s going to understand that I don’t do serious romantic and that my dogs will be there and that one of them is old and poops a lot and once he’s started, moving him is like pushing a boulder up a hill. The other one likes to hump him at a moment’s notice.

I need a celebrant who won’t look at the song we want played and ask how to pronounce the band’s name, because yes, doesn’t it sound quite a lot like the fluffy covering on a certain part of the female anatomy?

I want to make B laugh, but also have sincere vows that explain what marrying him means to me, now and in whatever our future might look like.

We have an idea, one I quite like, but it’s going to take more organising and effort than anything else so far, dress included, but I figure dresses come and go, but having the perfect person to make the only serious part of the day memorable is worth more to me than all the tulle on Etsy.


We’re taking a road trip this weekend, our first in a while without the dogs and four whole days off before I start my new role.

love road trips, just thinking about it is enough to tug my heart strings.

I have a fairly standard road trip ritual:

+ Make a playlist, abiding by the following rules:

1 – The music should be communal, meaning both participants are known to enjoy any song selected and if you want to throw a little something new on there, it has to be fun with the high probability the other party will like it.

2 – If one person is doing all the driving, this rule can be bent. If you’re the sole driver, you get to pick whatever the hell you want, to make up for the fact you can’t be over there chilling out on your iPhone. Essentially, if you want to hear your music played in my car, you’d better have a licence.

3 – Nostalgia is always a great addition to any mix.

+ Check the weather at your destination. Hopefully it is going to be cold.

+ Pack the night before, using the patented Mathematical Underwear Minimum Packing Sum (MUMPS) where x = number of days on the trip and y = number of underpants packed and the equation is x+2 = y.

+ Make sure you go to MUJI and pick up their amazing travel-sized bottles of toner and moisturiser.

+ Pack your gym clothes, because you’ll be going to the gym while you’re away. No, really.

+ Pack cables and chargers for your Kindle, iPhone, iPad, Bluetooth speaker, camera and the dust buster you keep meaning to use to clean the car out of at least one (1) new corgi worth of fur.

+ Go to the petrol station and get Red Bull and petrol in that order of urgency. Probably also pick up a small hand sanitizer which you’ll forget is in the glove box until it splurts everywhere.

+ Get on the M5 and pick a lane. Overtake only when necessary, don’t be one of those dicks who’s watched too much Tokyo Drift and changes lanes more often then they change their underwear.

+ Don’t cry when Harley and Rose comes on the playlist, or if you really can’t help it, pop a pair of sunglasses on first.

+ Wait until your travel buddy is firmly ensconced in trawling Twitter and slightly dozy due to the warm sun and the rocking of the car, then start talking about the celebrity and maybe even personal gossip they normally wouldn’t tolerate. If they don’t appear to be reaching the relaxed state required, subtly turn the heater on low.

+ Take a detour through the tiny town, population 1,2011, you lived in when you were six. Point out the house the girl lived in who terriorised you that entire year, because almost 30 years later, you still remember exactly where it is (Hello, Kirsty).

+ Make one complete lap of the first large roundabout you come to in Canberra. Fuck it, make it two laps.

+ Discuss on a scale of one to ten which person needs to pee the most as you get lost on the way to the hotel. As a Red Bull drinker, you always get first dibs on the toilet.

+ Have that awkward experience when you check into any hotel, where you feel like the person at the desk is judging what kind of sex you plan to have in their hotel. Try and look very much like a person who doesn’t do that kind of thing. Also try and look like the kind of person who can afford to stay in the hotel. Your corgi fur covered luggage will not help this cause.

+ Get to the room and immediately assess how much complimentary toilet paper they’ve given you. Worry about whether that will last for the length of your stay. Continue to worry about this until you can casually duck into a convenience store and stock up without your travel companion noticing.

+ Hide the excess toilet paper in your luggage. Feel very satisfied and safe.

+ Hop on the bed to relax when your travel companion suggests having a nap. Instead lie very still and wonder about the hygiene logistics of using the glass they always put in the bathroom. Get thirstier and thirstier the more you think about it. Get up and drink from your cupped hands under bathroom tap. Lie back down on the bed, relieved. Wonder about the hygiene logistics of the tap you just had your mouth close to. Get up and do a worry wee.

+ Lie back down and remember you have this week’s Who magazine. Read it and get lost in the dreamy world of celebrity gossip. Slowly doze off and have your third dream in which you’re friends with Khloe Kardashian. Wake up completely relaxed and ready to have an amazing weekend.



I Can’t Wait To Find You One Day.

Yesterday we sat down and did something we’ve both be dreading: Our budget.

We’re trying to save for the wedding (362 days to go!) and a holiday (drive around New Zealand? Drive around … America?!) and a house deposit. So you know, not much (so much, so very, very much).

B got a promotion a month ago and I start a new role at work next week and it means money is going to be less of an issue than it is at the moment and it’s really time I stopped buying novelty tampon holders.

When we actually sat down, it didn’t look as bad as I expected! Sure, I’m going to have to get used to the idea of delayed gratification, which is a (non-tampon) novelty for me, but everything’s covered and I think we’ve actually over-budgeted for some things.

As I do every November, I kind of give up on the year and get excited about January and starting things anew, but I’m trying to force myself to use the next two months to sort through any baggage I don’t want to bring with me into 2016.

That includes:

  • Doing the C25K again, which I’ve left JUST enough time to fit in before the end of December;
  • Getting ready for a kickass summer semester at uni;
  • Fitting in a couple of little trips (Hello Canberra! Bonjour Millthorpe!)
  • Planning my 2016 reading list (First up: the entire Neopolitan Trilogy, of which there are actually four books, all in a row, then some Marie Colvin)
  • Getting all of my organisational stationery in order! (Calendar by PapioPress; notebook and 2016 diary by Mi Goals)




I’m slowly learning that you don’t have to make changes smoothly and perfectly and never make a mistake or have a bad day and it’s kinda liberating and hard work feels good.