A few wedding happy snaps...

Those of you who have read Subtle's, you will be already appraised of the wedding day. Everything went wonderfully. Better than wonderful. Foolproof. Perfect. Divine.

I began my morning with Brunch with Katja and Co, and then went onto pack up all my things and pick up my quasi-bridesmaids. The most surprising part of the day was the upgrade we were treated to on arrival at the hotel. I was told that there would be an upgrade. But nothing, NOTHING, compares to being upgraded to the Presidential Suite (worth allegedly $6500/night). A grand piano, 8 person dining room, double King Beds and a bathroom bigger than some homes was a startling surprise. Of course, we took it all in our stride, and the bridesmaids and I did *not* run around giggling. Much.













The spa was trialled, as was the TV above it. We are nothing but grace and decorum.


















After the hair and makeup was done, and before the dress was donned, we had little to do amuse ourselves with except composing arty shots. Apparently my garter (courtesy of my wonderful Tap Class) became a feature of some note. Along with my perfume. Arty-shots.. who understands them?













I had no desire for a veil, but had to produce some sort of hair garnish to feel suitably bridal. This was what I opted for - a silver/crystal/beaded headpiece and feather.















Sentimental words, and some legalities, and here we are with an official marriage certificate!














Somehow the ring doesn't photograph as well as it looks in person. But trust me, it blings!

















Here I am.... oh, that's right, I am obscured by a group of people and this *is* meant to be an anonymous blog. But the train of my dress is quite pretty don't you think?


















Here is Subtle, or at least, part of him. He didn't want to wear any sort of buttonhole flower, but some rose petals were thrown after the ceremony and apparently someone felt the need to stuff them in his jacket. We are nothing but class.


















The cake required many taste tests to come up with something that made the groom happy, and not panic the bride. I probably won't feel like Chocolate Port Cake for a little while longer, but regardless, it looked fantastic and tasted wonderful. Thanks to Miss Stems for her artful arrangement of flowers and to Miss Tracey for her recipe!
















I hadn't planned on many speeches being given, but quite a few were - mostly impromptu. As a result, I apologise to the guests for boring them.













Inevitably, with too many drinks consumed during the reception, confusion abounded as to whose drink was whose. Sadly I think all these drinks are actually water.












By the end of the night, we were all quite a lot worse for wear. So much so that my bridesmaids could no longer determine push from pull at doors. Lucky they looked pretty.


















I hope this satisfies some people's need for photos.... back to our regular programming in the near future!

Just a short one...

Tomorrow is the day. Subtle and I are heading up the aisle and starting marital bliss. The last day or so have seen me a little stressed cooking the wedding cake, meeting the family matriarch and god knows what million other little things that need to be done. Though things are not always perfect with Subtle and I (and anybody who professes to a perfect relationship is deluded!), through it all he and I have tried to keep focused on what is important and to filter out the shit that comes along. We look forward to being able to affirm our love in public and make a commitment to each other. I have seen some rocky times in my love life, but Subtle has provided the most wonderful, grounding, secure and loving relationship that I have ever had. The ceremony, reception and honeymoon await, after which we return as Mr and Mrs Subtle.

Ten to go....

Ten days out from the wedding and many people are asking me the same question.

"Are you excited?"

How does one answer that? If you don't answer with an emphatic "Yes!", people think there is something with you. But really, describing my feelings as "excitement" is a strange thing, more like joyful anticipation. I am a little anxious, but only for the day and the plans to all come to fruition. I am looking forward to marrying Subtle, and being on our holiday. But, honestly, the progression to marriage in our relationship seems so natural, that "excitement" is not the right word.

That all said, this is after all, me, and drama should be my middle name. I could have made things easy on myself by sub-contracting out all jobs for the wedding, and just sat around doing my nails. But, no, I must have drama, and have given myself the job of cooking the wedding cake - the multi-layer, multiple, fancy iced wedding cake. So my currently list of things to do prior to next Friday's joyous event includes;
- Purchasing 4kg of butter, 3 dozen eggs, 4kg of sugar, 1.2kg of Chocolate and then bulk amounts of other delightful ingredients
- Cooking in my domestic oven, 6 cakes in ranges of 10 to 12 inches in diameter
- Finding time to somehow get my nails looking decent
- Continue removing any trace evidence of hair on my body for my beachside honeymoon
- Meet Subtle's family matriarch and impress her
- Entertain out of town guests
- Practice wearing my wedding shoes so I don't have blisters the size of beach balls
- Continue daily exfoliating to avoid any last minute stress pimples
- Bleach my teeth white so that I can at least attempt to smile in some photos
- Write romantic and meaningful wedding vows that don't sound like bad greeting cards
- Avoid killing any or all members of my or Subtle's family

Anything else I have left out?

Cleavage.. of a most peculiar kind

This friday, it will be two weeks until our nuptials. I keep a record of the days as they progress, just to make sure I can assimilate the fact that I am getting married and to stem the little sick feeling of panic that keeps trying to rise at the back of my throat.

Don't get me wrong. I am very much looking forward to being Mrs Subtle. It is just the sheer fact of things to be done, combined with financial "issues" and work getting in the way. More than anything, I look forward to about two days post wedding when we are sunning ourselves in Thailand, looking over a cheesy paperback at my beloved, sipping Mai Thais, with nary a care in the world.

My latest issue of note has been my dress. *The* dress. The white frou-frou frock of matrimony. The dress is indeed quite lovely, and I am looking forward to wearing it and feeling quite lovely. At my first fitting for it two weeks ago, the dress was too large. Unless one does couture, the bridal outfitters buy in the "closest approximate" size to your dimensions and then modify it to fit. Bespoke for the financially challenged. Apparently my measurements and the size resulting, do not necessarily tally to a fit on my body. No matter....the staff began inserting pins and taking measurements of dress reduction and assured me all would be well.

Fitting number two last Friday found me in the changeroom in high heels and my underwear - feeling strangely like some outcast from a porn film. The dress was dragged over my head and zipped up. No deep breathing for me, but who needs breathing when the aim is to look lovely! I left the changeroom to get in front of the mirror - handily located in the middle of the store. I looked lovely. Bridal even. I admired the bodice of the gown which made me feel quite feminine. The flow of the skirt and the colour against my skin were all perfect. And then I stood side on for a profile view. And that is when I noticed disaster.

I am not a small girl. Ok, I mean, I am short, but bust wise, and general shape is lumpy. Curvy. Rubenesque. Call it what you will, but I ain't no frail little thing. But I am generally ok with that. What I didn't expect to see, when looking side on in my wedding dress was cleavage both front and back. Yes people, I am the proud owner of back fat. I have a muffin top on my back. The squeezing, cinching bodice, has revealed fat where shoulder blades should be.

I may have screamed. I don't remember. I just remember alerting the staff to this matter and becoming a little shrill and terse! They moved into action, workshopping a few ideas to solve this new dilemma. Liposuction passed through my mind. As did spending the entire day with my back to a wall. With careful shuffling of undergarments, and a sleight of hand, the back fat slipped down under the dress, back from whence it came. I am still hesitant and going to pack some tape, just in case my back fat misbehaves and needs to be cajoled into submission.

I have two self-appointed bridesmaids for the day*. Their duties are fairly simple. One has the dubious honour of helping me pee. And the other is on back fat alert. I may have to restrict her alcohol to ensure she keeps up her job!



*Yes, there are people who really wanted the job that much they self designated themselves.

Conventions

I never think of myself of being non-conformist. In fact, I think I am incredibly normal, and positively dull on occasion. I go to work, five days a week, and partake in a few little hobbies on the side. I don't drink to excess very often. I don't smoke. I don't inject, swallow or smoke anything illicit. I borrow books from the library and return them on time. You know, normal.

Strangely it seems, with the wedding plans, I am apparently quite the non-conventionalist. I left a woman I work with, both shocked and appalled when she asked about some of my wedding plans recently.

She began by asking to see my engagement ring.

NON-CONVENTIONALITY #1...... I have no engagement ring. There will be a ring. Of course there will be. I want BLING. Massive, fuck-off, drag-hand-on-the-ground, avert your eyes for the brightness type of Bling. But that bling is not coming until we get married. After breaking the news to this woman that there was no ring for now, I commented that hopefully the ring will be there on the day, since there was still quite a significant amount of it to be paid for. She giggles and says to me, "But that is not your problem to worry about!"

NON-CONVENTIONALITY #2...... I am paying for my ring. In fact, at this stage, I am paying for most of the wedding. Finances are such at the moment that Subtle doesn't have many spare pennies. In good time, I hope this imbalance will be sorted. But for now, I am the main bread-winner and therefore, chief bread-slicer. I briefly explained this to her. She tried to not look disappointed and shocked. No matter, she picked herself up to forge on with what would be her final question, "So what will your name be after the wedding?"

(Apparent) NON-CONVENTIONALITY #3......I am not changing my surname. At this point, R who had been sitting (mostly) quietly by, could no longer suppress his comments. He interjected with, "I am voting for 'Cathy'!". I tried, futilely, to explain that firstly I had been married before and changed my name that time. It didn't work for me. I hated it. I didn't feel right. MY surname is what feels right. Secondly, I am not 23 any more. (The age at my last marriage.) At 23 years old, my life/career was just starting, so changing my name was no big deal. At my age now, I am more established. I am comfortable and known. So there will be no name-changing.

I tried to rescue the conversation by laughing it off and saying "I know, I am a disappointment as a bride!". But no such luck, for her I was a wasted bridezilla opportunity.

So to further disappoint people - here are the other things NOT being done for our wedding.
- I am not being walked down the "aisle" by my father.
- I am not being "given away".
- We are not having a wedding rehearsal dinner.
- We are having no readings at the ceremony.
- We are having neither groomsmen or bridesmaids.
- We are not having a sitdown dinner.
- We are not having a "first" dance.
- I am not wearing a garter or any of those other silly ornaments.
- I am not throwing a bouquet.
- We are not having a formal photographer.
- I refuse to walk the aisle to the strains of "Here comes the bride!".


But I am wearing white.

Relatives: Can't live with 'em. Can't kill 'em.

Having been married before, I sort of knew what I was getting into when beginning to arrange this shindig called our wedding. I knew that there would be tantrums (mostly mine), apathy (mostly Subtle's) and family dramas.

In my former life, the family dramas were all played out by ex-husband's mother. In simple terms, she was a nutter. She had declared that I had to have the ex's sister as a bridesmaid. Then she declared that she wouldn't come if we got married in a Catholic church. The final clincher was a week out from the wedding, his sister claims that he sexually abused her when she was about three years old. He would have been five. Did I mention his sister was a nutter as well? A bona fide locked away type nutter. I should have known then that things were not well in that family. But I married into it. And then divorced from it.

This time I was prepared for smooth sailing. No obvious nutters in Subtle's family (well his sister is a little strange - but nothing compared to what I have deal with!) and other than a few financial issues, all seems good from our end as well. And then *my* family decided to go crazy.

I don't know how people in Hollywood who have fifteen marriages do it, mostly Vegas-style with only them and Elvis I suppose, but there is something weird about re-inviting people to your second wedding. Something a little bit deja vu about it all. So in an effort to not "feel weird" and to also keep down numbers, we have opted for (a) a fairly informal wedding reception, canapes, drinks and cake, (b) a registry office service and (c) a small(ish) gathering of friends and family (note the order of importance there!). So that said, of my large extended family, I invited only three aunts, one uncle and two cousins. And this is where it all fell apart.

Apparently, one aunt and uncle were offended that I didn't invite their son and his wife. They were so offended that they rang my parents and hurled all manner of disappointment and bad manners their way. They claimed that I did it maliciously and clearly don't like them, their son, his wife and made intimations about what it might mean for the future of the family.

FOR FUCK'S SAKE!

I thought I was saving them the bother of more presents for their errant relation (me!) who clearly couldn't make good on the first marriage. I also thought, well, I don't see them much, and hell, Subtle isn't inviting ANY of his cousins, so I don't need to really get them all coming. But you know, apparently not. So, in the spirit of trying to preserve the relationship my parent's had with one of their closest relations, I invited the son and daughter-in-law. God knows if any of them will now come. And really, it makes one not really care if they do or not. They weren't upset about not coming because they had wanted to celebrate our day with us - they were upset because they perceived that it was meant as some slight on their family!

So now I am left wondering, will Subtle wonder what he has married into after the behaviour of my kooky family?

For the wont of something to write about

I think I have run out of things to say. I frequently feel guilt about not being a regular blogger anymore, and constantly try and think of things that might make good blog fodder. But inspiration seems to be running dry these days. Wedding plans are not the most interesting thing for me to write about. We have a date, venue, dress, honeymoon and invitations. A few more things to organise, but really, it is all starting to fall into place. A few frustrations and stresses in the house, but nothing that is particularly strange or spectacular considering the events unfolding in the months ahead.

I think I may have become boring.

No longer do I have tales of scandalous dates to tell, or emotional highs or lows to relive. I have found happiness and contentment and security. Those things are not the stuff of great writing. At least for me anyway! Makes me almost consider going off the anti-depressants so I can have a bit of roller-coasting emotional fun back in my life. Almost. That statement should get a good reaction out of Subtle!

The most outrageous thing to happen recently involved my night-time face cream. We were preparing for slumber the other evening - brushing teeth, removing makeup, that sort of thing, when I squirted out my moisturiser to apply my nightly attempt at youth maintenance. It proceeded to splurt over part of my hand, the sink and some of the splashback. And at that moment, I fell about laughing.

It looked precisely like cum.

Subtle almost choked on his toothbrush when I made this statement. So here we are three months from our wedding, when I am considering what vows I should write, and I am reduced to the wit of semen jokes.

Getting my priorities right

I fear that this blog may become some sort of a wedding journal. My apologies for that. Rest assured that I am still here, but there seems to be this Bride type creature lurking. After a long weekend of even more unpacking and cleaning up, we were able to start some work on the wedding "To Do" list. I am proud to say that two of the most important matters towards the occasion are now completed. We have booked our honeymoon - which is so far destined to consist of Subtle sitting poolside with a book or ten, and me off to cooking classes, shopping and cultural endeavours. I say it will be the best honeymoon ever! Secondly, I have made one of the most significant purchases towards my trousseau of the day. Yes people, I have my SHOES. Dress - no idea. Ceremony location - not a clue. Vows - zilch.

But, Shoes! All praise to the pretty.... and a matching handbag of course!

Lessons in Meditation required. Along with a cheap caterer!

All things are going crazy at Chez Cath and Subtle at the moment. We have moved house, to a lovely new townhouse with plenty of room for Miss Isabella and our myriad of crap*. The place has boxes aplenty which provides Isabella with hours of amusement - well minutes anyway. I am awash with stress over organising the house and with organising a wedding.

JESUS. I am getting married in less than four months! How did that happen?

*deep breaths*

One would think that having been married before, I could whip up a little marital soiree without blinking an eye. What do you need to do after all... arrange somewhere to get hitched, find somewhere to maybe swill back some booze and snacks after, a frock to where and maybe some way to tell people about it all. But no, it isn't that easy is it. Most of the time, Subtle and I are careful *not* to use the word wedding when talking to venues etc, for fear of the seeming ability of anything related to weddings to be more expensive. This is the time that one calls on favours and finds people who know people who can do things that might help. You know a celebrant? Are they cheap? I heard you bake? Want to do a cake? You know, that sort of thing.

Unfortunately, my usual level-headedness (do *not* laugh) is starting to take a sideways manouevre and the beginnings of a bride-zilla are forming. I know that I have been snappy lately to Subtle, but his usual calm, laidback, relaxed nature, is causing me some grief at the moment. I seem to have a list of things to do that should have been done (according to all the bridal magazines and organisational guides) about six months ago. And strangely he looks at me with nothing to do and his only repeated comment so far has been related to wanting taste tests of wedding cakes! If he isn't careful, I maybe placing a cake somewhere he doesn't want it!

Oh bring on marital bliss......



* Subtle might dispute that the crap is an "our".... apparently it is mostly mine.

Ahem, is the microphone on.... I have a little something to announce

Readers of this blog may be familiar with my somewhat chequered history with men and relationships. The only consistent thing in all my failed attempts was, as my mother keenly points out, is me. But after three years in therapy, and five years of blogging about it all, things seem to have fallen nicely into place. I met Subtle through this blog - for some reason, perhaps as a result of his own unhappy circumstances at the time - about three years ago he started reading the ravings of this woman. Apparently he found it interesting, and maybe a little escapist from his own trials, to read about those of someone else. No matter what the reason, he read and liked what he read. After some time he began to comment and then after even more time, we met. Engaging and sweet at the start, and a great friend to have on the other end of the inter-webs.

The emails, turned into phone calls and messaging throughout the day. Before I knew it, I found I got to work in the morning just wanting to get online to tell him what was going on. I knew something was afoot when Kate was visiting on her annual Gastro-Porn tour* and I just had to have her meet Subtle. Within weeks of introducing Kate to Subtle, my friendship with him turned to romance - with the aid of some very fine red wine. And in time the romance has turned into something very wonderful.

Very soon we were living together and sharing every day with each other. And now it has changed yet again. I am happy to announce our engagement. You know, for like marriage and stuff. It seems natural in so many ways, but still clearly wows me. The fact that I woke up at sparrow fart this morning considering wedding "things" shows that this whole thing has taken me for a spin. I am sure before long I will be bandying about the terms like "fiance" and so forth with aplomb. But for now, even thinking it gives me a little giggle inside and a huge case of the "Oh My God's!!!!".


*Known to most people as the "Good Food and Wine Show".

Many happy returns of the day...

Yet another birthday passes me today, and I can't say that it has been particularly memorable. One card from my parents and a couple of text messages seems to be the sum total of well-wishes. Probably about the best that a middle aged single woman can expect these days!

I had two dates over the weekend with men from the dating agency. As a birthday treat, I suppose I had hoped that maybe one of them might be a suitable match. Unfortunately, Gent #1 seemed only able to talk about his three children, and Gent #2 thought I some sort of freak when I declared my dislike of attending weddings. He felt it a great honour to attend a wedding, whereas I find most are quite tedious. Bad food, bad music and atrocious speeches, plus the fact that invariably I know few people there except for the Bride and Groom, whom I will not see for the entire night. (Can you tell I have another wedding to go to this weekend? My third in six months!)

Strangely I thought Gent #2 was nice enough, but on meeting him, I realised why he was probably single - if one can pin-point a reason. Middle-aged, balding, primary school teacher, whose manner was decidedly gay. Of course, as one friend pointed out, if he was actually gay, he and I would have got on much better!