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?