...comes the ash cloud. Thankfully I'm not flying away anywhere so don't have to worry, but some of the ladies on the wedding forum are and they're understandably panicking. Kind of puts things into perspective a bit.
Things have started moving a little, since my last post and our complaint. We have sample invitations. And the manager of our venue phoned H2B and did some apologising. Later the same day the woman we've been dealing with called me to set up a menu tasting. That was awkward. She knew we'd complained about her. I knew we'd complained about her but neither of us mentioned it. It was a conversation peppered with forced "lovely"s and "brilliant"s. The manager said that she was so good she'd been made a full time event planner. Which begs the question, so good at what? Cause if it's not answering emails and stressing me out, she's amazing! No, no, mad bride. You must be nice to the 12 year old event planner and not bridezillay!
The stress has died down but sadly, my stress related eating hasn't entirely vanished. I'm currently a one woman soldier ant, if those are the ants which consume everything in their path. Still. my first dress fitting isn't for another....2.5 months. Oh my god!!! Please let me stop eating everything!!!!!! I'll stop. Really. I will. After this flapjack biscuit. And maybe a ripple when I get home.
While I'm still ranting: My mother. I'm avoiding her. Not because I don't like her, although I'm not keen on her cooking and she keeps issuing dinner invitations including the latest hilarious one:
My Mum: I'm not feeling well....(enter list of symptoms and 30 minutes gushing about the latest baby born in our family who is the ugliest thing ever!)....do you want to come for your dinner?
Me: No. You're not well and in no state to cook.
My Mum: Well we've got food in the freezer. You could cook your own dinner.
Me: Yeah. I can do that here.
So why am I avoiding her? Oh god. It's her mother of the bride outfit. I can't remember if I've complained about this already. If I have skip this background. Ok. She saw a nice outfit in Debenhams. My dad got all scrooge mcdad on her and put her off it, even though he'd give me the money. I offered to take her shopping. She went out without me and bought another outfit and didn't like it so took it back. I offered again to take her shopping - she said in a month or 2. In the meantime I've been scouring the internets looking for something that wont clash with my bridesmaids and will suit my dad's shallow pockets. I found something really lovely and sent her the link. She refuses to look at it. I give up. She can come in shocking pink zebra print for all I care.
Days til the wedding: 109
Level of madness: Not too bad, aside from my bloody mother.