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I went & viewed the sketch & the fabrics for my dress.

BEAUTIFUL!

The colour is OFF WHITE (we’ve got two kids, so who are we kidding!)

The Fabric: Silk Tulle - so soft, really pretty - ethereal almost… Light weight… With elasticity to it - Just gorgeous! Organza - I’d describe as Transparent satin - it’s again, very light weight, slightly thicker than the tulle, but equally soft to the touch. Elizabeth Lace Appliqué on the corset (which is boned) and will be as an overlay to the main shape of the dress… The back is traditional lace up… I’d prefer the pearl button effect - but I need all the support I can get!

The neckline is scooped, which will elegantly hold in my ample bosom.

The Dress itself is corseted - ruched and figure hugging… to accentuate my small waist :0/ - then drops to the floor like a demure cloud… It’s truly luxurious… But - like me, simple… Understated… It will be, I hope, exquisite.

My designer was fantastic in helping me understand the dress making process, the different stages of fittings (I’ll be having five) one a month… and how each fabric complements the other… It was very helpful… It’s cemented my confidence in her ability. It also helps that she’s had a few features in good Bridal magazines.

I’m excited. It’s all happening! This must be how my boys feel about Christmas!

I’ve decided, because I’m sans my core support group (bridesmaids/mother) - that I’m going to document my Wedding Planning - in Real time, as and when whatever happens, happens.

So - to the fundamentals:

Date: 08/09/13
Place: Gold Coast, Australia
Groom: His Gingerness - Nathan
Bridal Party: 8
Budget: As cheap as my taste will allow - currently at 15,000.
Theme: Relaxed Elegant with a vintage touch. (Garden reception, chapel ceremony)
Guests: 60

7 months to go
According to my WedHappy App, I’m about two months behind in sending out my Save the date cards… In usual circumstances, I probably wouldn’t bother - but we have family and friends travelling across the state… and the world… So a necessity.

I designed one on the mac, which all up would cost $100 including postage - but I’ve since decided… I don’t like the design… Sooo back to the drawing board.

Venue & chapel is thankfully sorted, as is our photographer. I’ve had my dressed designed & tailor made… Mainly because my actual self and my ideal self can’t come to a compromise as to what suits me - And the constant futile exercise of trying on dresses was proving depressing - to say the least. My weight is the underlying issue here - which I’m also addressing.

I drunkenly plucked up the courage to have the “wedding contribution talk” with my father - I was hesitant initially, as he has helped me put financially on many occasions - and our relationship had been somewhat… Strained… To my surprise however - he has been tremendously forthcoming - And so far contributed to my Dress (half in fact WHOOP!)

Nathan has taken the cowards approach, & left his mother to do all the talking, (where his father is concerned ) - having spoken to the FMIL myself - they too are both being very generous with their contributions (they are now divorced FYI) FMIL has offered to pay for our honeymoon… I’m reluctant… But hugely grateful… So Whoop to that too. And FFIL has said he’s happy to contribute what ever we need.

We are so very, very, very lucky. We both have amazing families.

My first interaction was with a very interesting Twitter Character. in my opinion I’d consider him “Elite” although the title conjures up many mixed feelings. He is funny, genuinely charismatic intuitive and importantly - got me to my first 50 followers! I also had the pleasure of meeting him in person, and he was everything I expected, but I was surprised by his inward sincerity, I liked him. I wanted to be his friend, and for what the boundaries of virtual realities will allow, I think we are. @Annoyedworld is a truly magnificent man.

The one thing that strikes me most about twitter is the elusive reality that most are trying to escape or recapture. Many not realising that they and their tweets are real life. The poignant and thoughtful and the funny. It’s all there. But the joke is on the participant. Because unless your lucky to bring the connections, the true sincere connections into reality - the loneliness is only compounded, the paranoia, insecurity and the desperation is only magnified. Though they seek solace through the words of others, contentment is only in true reality, where you can touch, and hear, and speak and feel. There is no substitute. I’ve seen Many come and go on twitter, and each sign off the same, that ultimately it’s the real that is important, the neglected life. Because twitter, to get the most out if it, takes commitment, it takes time, it needs to be fed, cultivated to reap the rewards. And the rewards are all selfish, be it defined in a selfless way through the giving of star and RT’s and trophy’s - the underlying subtext is the same - the intrinsic need to belong and to be validated, to make an impact, to be affective, to be worth it. I have only witnessed a few that get the balance right. And of those, they are beautiful, intelligent, smart beings.

4 Days since I’ve left the house.
4 days since I’ve brushed my hair.
Finally had a bath last night.

I know Ewww. So gross. What’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with her, what’s wrong with them…?

I’m writing this under the cover of my blankets - my sanctuary. My cave. My hiding place. Where there is silence, and still, and I can hear my self breath, and think, and connect.

I take it all in, the sensations around me, daily, I decipher the meaning behind his word, her look, their grimace. I question intentions, I judge too soon, I assume, predict. I get it wrong, and I’m listless and numb. I get it right, and I am relieved. I have some semblance of control, some thread of sanity.

It hits you like a brick on the bad days. A dark cloud descends upon you and you’re suffocated by dread, paralysed with fear, filled with emptiness. The overwhelming sense of sadness. The welcome relief of fatigue is the only escape. To sleep.

Sometimes it creeps up slowly, and you can feel it coming, and you try to avoid the surge of emotions, so you paint on a smile, and you throw in a laugh, and maybe a jump and Whoo Hoo! And you’ll spend, and you’ll drink, and you’ll eat. But the beating of the heart does not stop, the anxiety does not dissipate… You still get the knock on the door, and you can’t help but Answer, and this faceless demon drags you by the collar, and takes you to places. Maybe calm soothing places, where you picture your death, and imagine the stillness. Where you relive old memories, happy memories. Or this faceless demon will push you into oblivion, beside your mothers body, inside your fathers head, experiencing your worse nightmares. All the while, life goes on, days go by, and you do what you can. you stumble, but you get up. You’re weak, but you stay strong. You fight. This Faceless demon, who rapes you of your senses, and takes your soul. You fight. At some point you come through it, and all is well with the world again, the sun shines, and the covers come off. There’s a spring in your step. And the smile is real.
Until next time.

Time doesn’t take the pain away. It only dilutes it.

10 years you’ve been away. 10 years have come & have gone.

You’re presence however, is stronger now - than its ever been before. I can relive your smile, your humour your lack of tact. Your indignation and formidable character.

I feared you. But I loved you. I loathed your selfishness, your relentless need for perfection. Your emotional uncertainty that stays with me to this day. You haunt me.

I am you Mother, through my insecurities, my stubbornness, my strength and my will. I am you.

Though I despised the woman you were, the characters you portrayed, the roles you played, though I despised, play those again, sing, laugh, drink, smile. Just one. More. Time. For me. Your daughters, your sons. The ones you left behind. Just one more time.

We miss you, and all the memories we can’t share. We miss you on those occasion where your absence leaves an unbearable void, a deafening silence, a muted crescendo of emptiness, where you’re suppose to be, Mother. Where you’re suppose to be.

You’re suppose to be here. To see my children grow. To watch me succeed, to take pleasure in our accomplishments, to be proud of yourself - look at the children you’ve raised. Look at your legacy. But you’ll never know. You won’t experience the beauty that is Lucinda, the Kindness that is Tesnica, the Love that is Will. You won’t know the happiness that is Mehdi. Or me. You’ll never know me.

So, though this broken heart will heal at some point. I won’t forget. You Mother, & all your existence. I won’t forget. I shall carry you, effortlessly, with out the burden of sorrow. I shall carry on.

“So, Please. understand my situation, I love you - but I cannot be with you, if I could be in two places at the same time, believe me, I would share my love with you.”

JB.