With less than 6 months until the big day, shit is getting real. The lists I had so much time to cross things off of are now begging to be looked at, decor is demanding to be planned, music is yearning to be chosen, stamps are screaming to be stamped, and the guest list is pushing to be finalized. With all that weighing on my shoulders (and many more things that haven’t been listed) I’ve started having wedding nightmares which casually bring to life my most legitimate wedding day fears. For your entertainment I’ve compiled a list of the ones I’ve had just this month.
I begin to walk down the aisle and Alex is either drunk, not there, or laughing at my dress
I begin to walk down the aisle and trip, ripping my dress, and face-planting so hard that my nose begins to bleed everywhere
No guests attend the ceremony
Thanks to bumper-to-bumper traffic I’m late for the wedding/don’t make it at all
I look like a clown
My dress won’t zip up and I have to walk down the aisle in sweatpants
A fight breaks out during the reception
All of the flowers die before we get to the hall
The food makes everyone sick
A freak snowstorm cancels the wedding
I’m sincerely hoping that all of these nightmares and stressful days are normal. I highly doubt any of the above will happen but I’d appreciate some good vibes being sent my way! If you have any suggestions with how to cope with wedding stress please let me know!!
There was once a glorious and enlightening time when I believed in myself. When I felt like I could do anything. A time when I made an effort with my writing, when I networked and asked for help, when I took writing classes, and listened to my blogging/writing mentors. I don’t know the exact moment that I gave up on myself and put my dreams on hold but I did.
I finished reading The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck this weekend and realized that for the last few years I’ve been giving a f*ck about things that I shouldn’t. Thus leaving me constantly stressed-out, drained, and underwhelmed certain situations. I’ve spent too much time caring about what other people think, doing things I don’t want to do, and putting effort into things that don’t bring me an ounce of joy.
“Your time, energy, and/or money spent should result in greater joy for you. If it is going to result in annoy…Stop. Calculate. And maybe don’t give that fuck.” (pg 37)
Thanks to this book I’ve made lists and figured out exactly what brings me joy and what results in annoy. I’ve crossed out things, events, and people from these lists that distract from my ultimate goals and dreams, and that make me feel less than myself.
I’m adopting a new method of #NotSorry and taking control over the amount of f*cks I’m giving. When it comes to wedding plans, I’m not going to agonize over invitations because I really don’t give a f*ck if people think they look cheap (they go in the garbage) but I will ensure that the food is amazing because I like to eat. I’m not going to RSVP yes to an invitation from someone I haven’t seen in years but I will make more of an effort to hang out with my cousins and family because they’re awesome and if they can make a funeral fun, they’re people I should be spending more time with. Most importantly, I’m not going to be sorry about any of it.
It seems that life is a constant battle of choosing which f*cks are worth giving and drawing them out accordingly.
There are moments when deep in thought or crazy in love that we forget how visible we are. We create a space that is undeniably our own. We don’t think about who can see us nor do we care. We simply love and exist.
On my drive into work the other day, I looked up at my rearview mirror and happened on a moment so private I couldn’t look away. A young couple on their way to school (I assume), were parked behind me at a red light. He was in the driver’s seat, staring at her like she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She looked upset, her blonde pigtail beneath a baseball cap swayed as she shook her head.
He smiled at her and reached his hand toward her face. He let it rest there until she lifted her own hand to hold it. A hint of a smile reached her lips as she turned her head and kissed his hand; then leaned over and kissed his cheek, once, twice, a third time for luck.
As I placed my coffee back in its holder I realized that I was still driving. The light blared green and I stepped on the gas in the hope that the young couple wouldn’t start honking me. I looked up every once in a while to see if they were still behind me. For a little while they were, smiling and laughing in their own little bubble. I lost them at some point but couldn’t seem to shake them from my mind.
I focus on the negative things in life. The days and weeks where everything goes wrong and the world appears to be a heaping pile of crap tend to weigh me down. I don’t think often enough about the many beautiful moments filled with love that I’ve witnessed or experienced. I guess sometimes all you need is a glance at your rearview mirror to remind you of how important those moments are.
It’s incredible how quickly routine and comfort override the desire to explore, take chances, and have adventures. The fragility of life has shown itself to me many times over the last year, more so than any year before. And while my first instinct when mulling over the details of September through to November 2015, is to run, to make a change, to go out into the world and experience everything that I’ve ever dreamed of, what I really need is a new perspective.
I want to turn my world on its head.
I want to witness all of the old and familiar with a new pair of eyes; actually I’d settle for a different pair of prescription glasses. I’d like to see something different on the drive to work or at least notice something new. I want to reread a novel and have a deeper understanding of it. I need to get outside of my own head and forget about the desire to have, see, and be everything all at once. It’s incredible what you can learn about your world when you take a step back and critique it from a different angle. The word appreciation comes to mind.
With appreciation and contentment comes the emotional balance needed to make the necessary changes, take on new challenges, and be more open to astronomical risks. Doubt need not be involved in curating this new brand of self-awareness.
Open your eyes. If you walk too quickly you just might miss it but once you see it, it’s difficult to pay attention to anything else on that side of College Street. Thick wooden panels frame a gorgeous wooden door illuminated red by the signature Isabel scrawl.
When you walk into the restaurant your eyes need a few minutes to adjust before the warmth of the venue washes over you. Authentic Spanish tiles bring the floor to life, rustic mirrors covering the length of the restaurant make the room feel bigger, the dimly lit space and candles on each table create an oasis for every guest. If you find yourself looking up you’ll notice an array of different light fixtures, adding even more character to an already charismatic space.
Thanks to my current position as Customer Service Coordinator at an importer of Spanish cured meat and specialty items, I’ve become pretty well-versed in the world of Spanish tapas. So while other couples Googled their way through the menu, I comfortably and casually ordered the Lomo Iberico, Chips & Boquerones, the Jamon Tasting (featuring the Trevelez and Iberico de Bellota), the Half Octopus, Jamon Croquetas, Manchego Cheese, and the Bread. I was stumped by a few items and was thoroughly impressed by the staff’s product knowledge and their ability to help us navigate our way through a pretty amazing tapas meal. Our waitress ensured that she would bring out the dishes that went best together until we made our way through the entire order.
What I’m noticing about Spanish tapas is the need for quality ingredients. Since the dishes are small and simple, there has to be enough flavour to bring the dish to life. Everything from the bread to the olive oil to the thinly sliced pieces of Lomo Iberico had its own distinct flavour. A memorable flavour that tickled the palate and ignited the taste buds.
So I guess the ultimate question is, would I go back? Would you go back to a place with great food, a warm atmosphere, and wonderful service? Exactly. I would love to go with a group of people next time, I love the idea of having a few drinks and chatting as we share a few dishes on a warm Toronto evening.
There are times when I look in the mirror and don’t recognize the woman in front of me. I’m not referring to the faint but still visible wrinkles under my eyes or the newly nourished softness covering my once toned body. I’m talking about the attitude splattered all over my face.
We all go through phases where we’re pissed off at ourselves, at life, at our choices. Phases where we just want to be alone and the thought of being hugged, touched, or spoken to makes us cringe. It’s during times like this when an attitude finds itself planted firmly upon my brow. A LEAVE ME ALONE sign ceremoniously hangs itself around my neck and rests gently on the arms folded across my chest. Text messages find themselves unread, posts go unliked, kisses go unkissed, and I’m left in my own jungle of bitterness.
I write it out, sing it out, exercise it, coitus (sorry mom) it out of my system. Reality rears its beautiful head and surrounds me with all the things I should be thankful for. It reminds me that wishes are meant for children, hard work is the only thing that yields success, and success is really in the eyes of the beholder.
Reality check: giving up is for losers.
Reality check: you’re doing just fine great.
Reality check: you’re the source of your own happiness.