Dear Future Hubby...

Truthful tales of a talker

semisocialite — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 00:00:04 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

The only other reason for sarcasm

I like to talk. A lot. Probably a little too much if I’m talking about something I’m excited about. Or passionate about. Or my job. Get me talking about the latest celebrity gossip and you probably won’t get me to shut up for hours. Or today’s Oscar nominations? Yeah, I’d rather not continue to discuss my displeasure over the lack of nominations for Drive because it’s already been a very difficult and trying morning with that news. But oddly enough, for as much as I like to talk, and for as much as I fear I babble, it takes me a while to open about myself and my life.

Opening up about anything other than general pleasantries and mindless chit chat is about the same as breaking one of the three rules of jinxing. But hell, if you’ve already broken those, I guess this would be the unwritten fourth rule of jinxing. I always fear that opening up about my thoughts, my feelings, my life, my background, makes everything real. You can learn so much about a person from those things. Their fears. Their loves. Their weaknesses. Their hatreds. Their passions. Their faults. At the end of the day, what really just makes them tick and why they are the way they are. You expose all of those and you have nothing left to hide behind anymore. Everything is laid out on the table and the only thing you can think is “Oh my god, what if he knows all of this, thinks I’m crazy, and bolts.”

As terrifying as that may be, at some point you’re either going to have to do it or face being alone. At some point, there will be that one person where you end up sitting there, fighting internally with yourself because you know if you don’t let down those walls, you’ll lose them. And the pain and discomfort of losing them may just in fact be more terrifying than having to share your life story, share why you don’t get along with your father or your mother, why you are a workaholic, or what your biggest pet peeve is, etc.

It probably doesn’t help much that I’m ridiculously sarcastic and getting a non-sarcastic word in edgewise can be difficult. But at the end of the day, remember that the main reason for sarcasm is that it is a defense mechanism. The more sarcastic I am, the less I have to open up and talk about other things. The more I’m able to just skim the surface and hand out the sugar coated version. Newsflash. Nothing sugar coated is every real. There’s always more to the story, if you really want to take the time to find out about it.

So if you’re really interested, if you really care and want to get to know me, just ask. Act interested. Act like you care. The sooner you accomplish that, the sooner I’ll let my walls down and let you into my world, even if I’m still absolutely terrified and scared shitless to do so. If I didn’t deep down really want to let you in, I wouldn’t be on this merry-go-round in the first place.

Xo,
Your Future Wife

Rules of Relationship Jinxing

semisocialite — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 01:18:19 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

Don't screw this up for me

You should probably be informed that I am very superstitious about relationships. Really, when it comes down to it, it just means I’m ridiculously pessimistic about them (despite being a hopeless romantic – I like to blame romantic comedies for that). I have a very hard time believing or trusting that anything good can happen to me relationship-wise. You can all go hate on Double Threat for causing that psychological issue. Go ahead. Go yell at him. I’ll wait.

Sure, every once a while, a guy comes along to prove my entire theory wrong, but every time something does go wrong, I tend to equate it to breaking one of three rules below. I call these the Rules of Relationship Jinxing. If I don’t want to jinx a relationship, I hold out as long as possible before breaking any of the three rules, because in my personal relationship history, I’ve discovered that breaking them just leads to disappointment.

1. Do NOT add a boy to your contacts to early in getting to know him. This is my major jinx rule because inevitably, it won’t work out and you have him sitting in your contacts as a reminder that it didn’t and you’re still single. By just leaving him a number in your text messages and recent call list, he’s a nameless person. I have added several guys to my contacts before I should have and by doing so, I totally jinxed any future chance with them. Case in point? I once added a guy to my contacts who seemed like a sure bet and less than 12 hours later, he texted to say he had to reschedule our date. Yeah. He never reschedule and I immediately took him out of my contacts.

2. Do NOT tell your friends about him. Again, this is just giving the universe a reason to say “fuck you” and screw you over in the relationship department. By telling my friends about a guy, you’re clearly invested in this relationship (or whatever it may be at that point) and you want your friends to be too. But what happens if it doesn’t work out? You not only have to live with the knowledge that if didn’t work out and possibly deal with your friends asking about him, bringing him up, and wondering (just like you are), why the hell you can’t just manage to have a normal relationship.

3. Do NOT tell you family about him. This is the last stronghold of the rules. This is way worse than telling your friends about a potential new guy because if you’re like me and single at 28, you’re already pressured enough by your family as to who you’re dating, when you’re getting married, etc. It’s bad enough that I have my 10 year old sister asking me when I’m getting married so she can be a bridesmaid. but having your parents or other family members ask on a continuous bases? Yeah. Nothing screams Christmas dinner fun more than being asked if I have a “hankering” for any boys. Side note: Don’t be friends with too many family members on Facebook, because then they’ll just ask you if every boy you’re pictured with is your new boyfriend. No, this is not 1955. I can have guys friends.

Get me to feel comfortable breaking one, two or hell, even all three of those rules means I must actually trust you and like you enough to risk being disappointed if and/or when it doesn’t work out. If you want any shot of being future hubby, this quite possibly might be your first test and one of the hardest. I definitely still have guys that I refuse to add to my contacts even after I’ve gone out with them several times.

Consider this your mission. And don’t do anything else to jinx our relationship in the meantime, cause shit, if you’re getting me to break all these rules I have, I don’t even want to know what it’s doing to my relationship karma.

Your Future Wife

Seriously, get your shit together

semisocialite — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 23:26:30 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

Let’s get one thing straight. I’m a pretty picky girl when it comes to the guys I date. You’ve got to really impress me or win me over to get me to even agree to go out for a drink or coffee with you. Sure, I may be limiting myself, but at the same time, I know what I want and I know who I’m going to be comfortable with. But no offense, if you still live with your parents, have never paid rent, and at the age of 28 are just now getting your first job, I’m going to go “Seriously? WTF?”.

Where do I even begin?

In early December, I had another first date (in the ever growing serious of odd/bad first dates) with someone who seemed like he could be a winner. Seemed nice, funny, was cute, etc. Cut to date night when I’m sitting at the coffee shop and we’re discussing what we do in our careers and no joke, this guy tells me he’s a funeral director. Now, it’s not necessarily a thing that would make me say no way to a second date (though I did have to bite my lip to keep from busting out laughing – especially since he was WAY to happy to be a funeral director) but it was the information that came out after that. Turns out, he was still living with his parents, and had never had to pay rent (boo hoo for you, life’s hard), had never had to get a job before the age of 28, and his parents still paid all his bills for him.

While it may not seem like a big deal to some people, the more I thought about it after I went home, the more it was a huge deal breaker for me. I realized for one of the first times that not everyone I go out with is going to be on the same life path as me and have a purpose and direction with their life. I had to start looking for someone who actually had some life experience, because honestly, that’s what I’m looking for. I’m looking for someone who has some passion, some drive, some purpose, and knows how to be their own person. This guy still lived at home and had his parents pay for everything. I have been living on my own since I went to college at 17 and paying all of my own bills, including student loans, since I left college and went to grad school at 21. It blew my mind that this guy had never seen a credit card bill, let alone an electric or gas bill, in his entire life. This guy had never had to go through the horror of finding an apartment to rent. It was crazy that this guy didn’t get a job until he was 28 – not because he had to, but just because he was bored being at home during the day and having nothing to do with his life. Seriously, get a job or at least an interesting hobby.

I’m a very independent person and while this might scare off some guys, I do know there are guys out there that can appreciate a girl who can fend for herself, have her own life, her own friends, and just know how to get shit done. I’m not one of those girls that sits at home at night, waiting for her boyfriend to call her or text her. I’m not looking for a guy for my life to revolve around. I can appreciate and enjoy a guy who takes care of me but I’m looking for a guy who can fit into my life, and I can fit into his, given some compromises on both sides. Not to say I’m looking for someone who is the most independent person ever, but someone who has some life experience, knowledge, ambition, and focus would be great.

So please try and have your shit together. I know I’m picky, but I’m really not asking for much. Just had a steady job, some life experience, live on your own or with roommates (just not your parents), and make your own way in life. Hell, even if you’re a funeral director, as long as we connect and you’ve got your life together semi-together, you might just have a chance at a second date.

Your Future Wife

Constantly in communication

semisocialite — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 20:27:40 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

In a relationship, it’s always nice to have good communication. It’s always nice to stay in touch, even if it’s just a daily text, email, phone call, message via carrier piegeon. What isn’t nice though is text, calls, emails. All day. Every day. Esepcially, if you haven’t even met me yet and we’ve haven’t even gone on our first date.

Don't be that guy

Welcome back to the land of the okcupid first date. Frist date land has been pretty uneventful as of late, until this past week, where I had the misfortune of agreeing to go on a date with Too Much Texting. As things generally do in okcupid first date land, our emails back and forth to one another started off well enough, especially since he brought up Brian Wilson in the first message. Word the wise, best way to get my attention in my quest to find Future Hubby? Mention my Dream Future Hubby in your first message to me. I will clearly give you a shot if you can carry on a conversation about Brian Wilson and his beard.

By last Wednesday, we had exchanged numbers, he had called and we had set up our first date. My first indication this was going to end badly was that he kept me on the phone for 20 minutes, during the work day, and then tried to keep me on the phone even longer with a “So can you keep talking?” Don’t you have a life? Sorry, I have a job and I kind of need to get back to it. Second issue. He wanted to go to UCB for our first date. Number one, I’ve never been a huge fan of improv. Number two, what happened to the hey, let’s grab a drink or coffee first date? I agreed to go anyway.

Cut to the next day, when at 10 AM, I get a general “have a good day, what do you have going on?” text from him. Not wanting to be rude, I texted back. This then turned into him texting me all day, about once every two minutes, about the most random shit. Then I stupidly at one point mentioned I was really good at movie and tv trivia, which prompted him to just continue texting me trivia questions. My personal favorite that made me go “I need to cancel this date/this guy is weirding me out/kill me now” moment: What was eating Gilbert Grape? Oh. My. God.

Meet me BEFORE you become a crazy texter

The texting continued even when I didn’t respond, along with phone calls, followed by more texting the next day. Was this guy aware that he hadn’t even met me yet? He could meet me and end up hating me. Was he aware that you’re supposed to play hard to get? It’s not just for girls, dude. By Friday night, I had cancelled. Well, I had come up with some excuse to get me out of it for the time being. Yeah, I know. Chicken shit move. If anyone asks, I’m in NC for work.

So FH, please keep this in mind when making first date plans with me. If you text me incessantly and ask me dumb trivia questions, I’m going to want to cancel. I’m going to make up some lame excuse as to why I can’t go out with you anymore. Do you really want to be the next Text Too Much? That’s right, I didn’t think so.

Not to say I don’t love the attention and a text or call every now and then, but at least wait until you’ve met me, decided you like me enough in person to WANT to call or text me, and then go from there. It’s a best way to ensure I don’t “have to go to North Carolina for work” or schedule another, normal “let’s grab a coffee” date in your place which, yes, I’ve already done.

Xo,
Your Future Wife

Back off the booze

semisocialite — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 23:09:12 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

Please don’t be a lush. I’m all for the consumption of alcohol in moderation, but If I wanted to date an alcoholic, I’d at least find one who was a famous celebrity or something so that way I at least have a chance to end up on Perez Hilton.

Just another Wednesday...

Lately I have found myself in a land I like to call “first date hell.” I’ve taken it upon myself to kick my own ass into gear and start making shit happen. And when I say making shit happen, I mean finally agreeing to go out with some guys, be set up on blind dates (gasp, shock, horror) and confront my fears. One thing that always seems to make any first date go a little easier is a drink and let me tell you, that’s the first thing I order if I’m out at dinner or a bar for that initial meeting. Soothes the nerves and adds a little more confidence. However, I limit myself to one, maybe two drinks, at most. This cannot be said for one of my most recent first date cohort.

A few weeks ago, I agreed to meet some guy I had been talking to on okcupid for a drink at Mandrake in Culver City. No, I’m not a hipster. It just happens to be close to my apartment. We had been emailing for a couple of weeks so clearly, going out was the next natural step. He seemed cool enough, interesting enough, sarcastic enough (I have a standard when it comes to humor/sarcasm that my guys need to have), so the date should have gone well, right? Wrong.

After settling into the back patio with a drink (beer for me, whiskey on the rocks for him) we began to chat and it became apparent to me that we not only had nothing in common but he seemed like a high functioning alcoholic. In between finding out that he doesn’t watch TV (I am best friends with my tivo), likes heavy metal rock (I just vomited in my mouth), and doesn’t like sports (how can you not love Brian Wilson?), he proceeded to yammer on about what types of whiskey he likes, what his favorite bars are, how he had to move within walking distance of his favorite bar, how he impulse buys when he’s drunk (and buys weird shit like real samurai swords and a penguin suit), and how he knows all the bartenders at his favorite bar. Never mind the fact that while we talked about all this super duper fascinating alcohol talk, he downed three whiskeys on the rocks and I was struggling to keep up by drinking beer.

Not that kind of peguin suit...

While he did have a decent, steady job, I just couldn’t overlook the fact that this guy clearly had some issues. Apparently he didn’t realize he was on a date with a girl who is a total lightweight and doesn’t drink more than one to two drinks a week, unless there’s an event going on. Apparently he also didn’t realize that discussing how shitfaced you get on an almost daily basis is not what you should be talking about on a first date. Turn off.

So please keep this in mind for our first date. Don’t booze it up. Don’t get shitfaced. Don’t talk about getting shitfaced. Don’t tell me about how you had to disable one-click shopping on Amazon because you impulse buy when drunk. Don’t point out that you’re best friends with the bartender. I have my own life to handle. I don’t need to be dating someone who’s life revolves around when they are going to get to drink next. I don’t care how great of a job you may have. Or how funny you might be.

Oh yeah, and don’t tell me you don’t like baseball and that you’re going to go home and play video games after our date. Cause if the whole high function alcoholic thing wasn’t enough to turn me off, that certainly is the next best thing to say to ensure you will be promptly deleted from my phone.

Xo,

Your Future Wife

Sucker for sports and still a girl

semisocialite — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 17:00:04 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

Please remember that at the end of the day, I am still a girl. Sure, I know I dress pretty casual. That I own an absurd amount of Converse and a couple handfuls of jeans. I know I swear a lot and can be mildly inappropriate from time to time. None of this though should take away from the fact that I am a girl. So please don’t be distracted by these things, as well as my vast knowledge of sports and my wickedly awesome ability to carry on a conversation regarding teams and players. At the end of the day, I still have boobs. Thanks for noticing.

Yes, that's a rifle. Yes, I can do that. Yes, it will hurt if I drop it on you.

Over the past couple of months, I’ve found myself at various parties with friends and once the subject of work has been exhausted (for the love of god, please don’t ask me how work is anymore), I generally find myself standing amongst a group of my guy friends discussing sports. It’s actually exciting to me that I can carry on a conversation about sports given that growing up I wasn’t exactly the most sporty of people. I was in color guard, for heavens sake. Don’t know what that is? Go look it up and then have a good laugh. Just remember, I can toss/spin a sabre and a rifle and I’m not afraid to use this talent against you.

I’ve noticed though that once these conversations have ended, I’ve more often than not see some of my guy friends go and hit on girl, buy them drinks, even though they have talked to him for like 2.5 seconds and the girls looked mildly moronic and are never dressed weather appropriate. Hello. I’m a girl too. Yeah, I’ve known most of you for like…ever and I’m not asking you to buy me a drink or flirt with me or use some cheesy pick up line, but it’s those moments that make me realize that none of my guys friends really look at me as a girl. Or at least THAT kind of girl. And it makes me hope that there is a guy out there, hopefully you FH, that will look at me like I’m a girl and still appreciate the fact that I can sound like an episode of Sports Center. I’m the girl that can talk about tennis like I’m a pro (except I can’t play for shit), how Jay Cutler was just a big baby and should have sucked it up, how I can never see the Cubs getting any better even though I still have some crazy hope, the current state of Giants baseball, Brian Wilson’s beard, Brandon Belt’s departure (again), or how Carlos Beltran better pay off as we head into the playoffs. I’m not the girl that they look at as actually being a girl. Maybe if I wore a super low cut top and a short skirt while discussing why Tim Lincecum doesn’t ice his shoulder after a game or why Roger Federer has started to slip in the standing, then I might be view differently.

Why does Matt Cain look like John C. Reilly?

Oddly enough, the reason I normally get super into a sport is because of a cute guy that’s playing it (Andy Roddick, Brian Wilson, I’m looking at you two… Hell, even Drake Diener in college was the reason I got so into NCAA basketball) but then in the state of crushing, I get so into the sport that I kind of forget that they’re cute and start getting really into the sport, the rules, the behind the scenes deals, the though process behind every move, every DL list, and why the hell we haven’t we just released Barry Zito already. Who care about how much money we’d lose? He’s a lifesuck.

So I’m begging you…can you please just look past the fact that I actually like sports, can discuss sports, and don’t sound like an idiot while discussing sports? I would think that some guys would find it attractive if a girl can talk about sports (and kind of sound like she knows what she’s talking about). And if you don’t, well, then too bad. Don’t expect me to wear a low cut top just to remind you that I am in fact a girl and yes, I have boobs. Just appreciate the fact that I do have boobs AND I enjoy watching Sports Center.

Xo,

Your Future Wife

Married and macking

semisocialite — Tue, 21 Jun 2011 22:40:49 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

First off, let me apologize for my absence as it’s now summer and therefore I’ve been sitting in front of my TV watching of SYTYCD, Game of Thrones, tivo’d episodes of House Hunters International and patiently waiting for True Blood. It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it. Plus I finally watched Band of Brothers which if you’ve seen, you know it’s fantastic and slightly addicting. I’d totally be on board if you were in fact Damian Lewis or the dude that plays Doc Roe. Really, work has just been slightly crazy so my apologies for falling of the blogging/quest for a future hubby wagon.

FYI, I'm not blind

However, I would like to thank my crazy busy life for providing me with something absolutely annoying/fascinating/hilarious to tell you about. And when I say tell you about, I clearly mean, shit you shouldn’t do if you want to have any chance with me.

I’m pretty positive I don’t come across as a stupid person. Sure, sometimes I talk like a valley girl when I get super excited about things, but I do have two college degrees. I have a job. I have life experience. I’m pretty smart. I’m also not blind. So if you have a wedding ring on, I can see it. If you have a ring tan line, I can see it. So do me a favor and don’t flirt with me because oh yeah, you’re married. Oh, you didn’t get that memo? Hmm, I’ll make sure to fax you a copy of your marriage certificate as soon as I’m done with this post.

About a week ago, I went out with one of my friends who happened to invite some of her other friends ago for this outing. I had been hearing about these other friends for quite some time, so it was one of those “I feel like I already know you” moments, including all about Mr. Married & Mrs. Married, who according to my friend we’re the most adorable couple you’ve ever seen. Sadly, Mrs. Married wasn’t going to be able to make it that night, so when we arrived I was introduced to Mr. Married and yes, I was immediately bummed he was taken as he was gorgeous. I didn’t really think much of his hotness though, as we were in a larger group of people and oh yeah, he’s married, but when he started sliding up to me at the bar, animately talking to me, buying me drinks, full on flirting with me, I really wanted to laugh and remind him that I’m not blind. I can see your wedding ring. He was nice enough though, and we had a lot on common, so I stayed, talking to him and trying my best not to fall into flirting back with him.

After a while, I excused myself to the ladies and when I came back, something immediately was different. Mr. Married had moved his wedding ring to his other

Orange is not my color

hand! Dude! I just sat with you for an hour. Do you think I’m just going to now suddenly think you’re single because you moved your ring? Or do you really think I hadn’t noticed it before on your left hand? Cause no offense dude, I’m a girl and the older we single girls get, the more we immediately look for a wedding ring. This was clealry my cue to go find my friend, find a new conversation to be a part of, and feel sorry for Mrs. Married.

So do us both a favor and learn something from this little story. Don’t hit on me if you’re married. I’m looking for My Future Hubby. Not “Someone else’s Current Hubby, but could be my Future Hubby.” Actually, don’t even hit on me if you have a girlfriend. It’s a waste of both our time. As flattered as I am, as cute as you may be, as much as we may hit it off and get along, I’m not exactly looking to be given the home wrecker of the year award. I’m not looking for any drama, especially when just starting something with someone. And you know what that ring on that finger says? Drama.

Xo,

Your Future Wife

Becoming the back up plan

semisocialite — Mon, 23 May 2011 18:37:11 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

What if you’re my Back Up Plan? No, I’m not talking about that stupid J.Lo movie (which yes, I may have actually watched this past weekend butitwasontvsoitsnotlikeipaidmoneyforit) but I’m talking about a relationship back up plan. You know, when you go through your teens, your twenties, you thirties, hell, you whole life, dating around, trying to find “The One,” when in the back of your mind there’s that guy who, let’s face it, if you don’t find anyone else, he’s definitely your go to guy.

The ONLY reason to see The Back Up Plan

Whether you think you’re going to end up with him despite all the lamespices you date, you’re just going to settle and choose him, or you two have already made a mutual decision to “marry at the age of ____ if no one better comes along,” we all that that one person that we could definitely see ourselves ending up with, regardless of any premeditated mutual deal or one sided decision.

In college I was way convinced that no matter how many fights we had, no matter the good times or the bad, at the end of the day I’d end up with Double Threat. I got over that after grad school when we finally stopped all non-drunk communication. It was a comforting idea though, that no matter how lame of a guy I may be dating in college, it was all going to be okay and it really didn’t matter because I was just going to end up with him.

Until now, I haven’t had another back up plan, unless you count all those drunken girl talks about how I was totally going to end up with my chosen celebrity crush of the moment. That was until a few months ago when JAA-Rule decided that based on my interaction/connection/past with My Favorite Mistake, he was my new back up plan. She was convinced that whether it is in the near future or even five years from now, he was going to wake up one day and realize that despite our issues from our college years, we were perfect together. I thought she was off her rocker until she then felt the need to share her opinion with one of our other friends (who knows MFM pretty well) and she just so happened to agree. I guess that we had been spending more time together lately, including parties, dinners, clam bakes, light switch raves, and random, unprovoked interactions that have absolutely know significance on the current situation and really only amounted to “shooting the shit.” I guess they might have a point. Maybe I’d make him a little more exciting; he’d make me a little less over the top. Then again…maybe not.

Please make sure you're wearing this when we meet

As nice as it is to have a back up plan, you know, in case all my plans to marry any hot celebrities fall through, I’m having a tough time wrapping my head around the idea that MFM may in fact be a legit back up plan. I tend to be slightly oblivious to flirting and connections with guys, so maybe my friends see something I don’t. Or maybe I just can’t ever look him in the face without thinking (even if it’s just for a moment) of our past dramz. Either way, this new thought has led me back to saving people to my favorite’s list on okcupid in hopes that MFM isn’t really a back up plan.

Clearly, both this idea and MFM = back up plan are both doomed to fail given that oh yeah, I hate internet dating and oh yeah, I still cringe year later when thinking about all that past college relationship immature drama with MFM. So please just help me out and show up so I don’t have to think about actually having to have a back up plan. I’d greatly appreciate it.

Xo,
Your Future Wife

Wedding Dress Wars: Royal Wedding Style

semisocialite — Fri, 29 Apr 2011 22:04:09 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

Kate Middleton TOTALLY stole my wedding dress.

I couldn't have designed a more perfect dress

Remember that time that I finally (after years of school girl crush denial) accepted the fact that you were NOT Prince William and I was NOT going to marry him? Remember how I had gladly accepted Kate Middleton (cause let’s be real, she’s gorgeous and classy)? Well, after waking up in the middle of the night to watch the Royal Wedding (like all of the other girls who grew up hoping one day they’d marry Prince William) I started to reconsider my willingness to give up Wills to Kate. Kate had TOTALLY stolen my wedding dress!

Let’s rewind a little here. Back to when I was six and my fascination with the Royal family started after I was cast at Queen Victoria in the school play. I got to wear a purple velvet dress. It was the fanciest thing I had ever seen in my super long six year existence. Clearly being a perfectionist, I HAD to do research on the Royals which led me to sitting in front of a TV, watch Charles and Diana’s wedding from ’81 on a VHS. From there, a fascination was born. It was beautiful. It was regal. It was a fairytale. It was a fairytale that was always fun to dream about. Yes, I’m not really THAT delusional that I ACTUALLY thought I’d marry Prince William, but as a little girl, it was a nice fairytale to believe in. I couldn’t be happier with William’s choice in Kate, but when she stepped out of that car in front of Westminster today, I couldn’t help in my half asleep state but say “Dude, bitch TOTALLY stole my dress!”

I wouldn't mind this dress either

As I have made perfectly clear on this blog, I heart Grace Kelly like WHOA! She is a fashion icon to me and ever since I first saw her wedding dress, I knew that I wanted my wedding dress to be similar to hers. I’ve even blogged about it before. The lace bodice. The A-Line skirt. The train. Plus, after spotting a Watters dress in a bridal magazine I happened to be flipping through a few months back, even stumbled upon the best modern day creation (without have to design my own dress) that I thought would best suit the Grace Kelly look.

That was until Kate stepped out of her car this morning and I immediately went “That’s my dress.” Now, I know it’s not MY dress. It’s Kate dress that Sarah Burton designed which is vaguely reminiscent of Grace Kelly’s dress. And the fact that Kate has worn this Alexander McQueen dress means that if when I do get married, I may be able to get a pretty decent knock off of the dress (if I can’t afford to have Sarah Burton come design me my own dress). I guess I really should be thanking Kate for that. If I have to go and see my dream wedding dress on someone else, I’m at least glad it was her. She rocked that dress (plus the one she wore to the reception tonight) and looked like a perfect fairytale princess. The kind all of us girls dreamed of being while growing up.

At the end of the day, at least they didn’t get married in Ireland and steal my entire idea of Gaelic Gala. We just better hurry up and get married before they go and decide to renew their wedding vows and steal that whole concept as well. I already lost a perfectly good Future Hubby and a wedding dress to her. I’m not losing a venue and event plan as well.

Xo,

Your Future Wife

Overly emotional about being unemotional

semisocialite — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 20:49:27 +0000

Dear Future Hubby,

Wanted: One Heart

I cry. I scream. I yell. I get ridiculously passionate about topics of conversation I’m interested in. I jump up and down when overly excited. I am a pretty emotional person. That being said, if you don’t think that you can handle said emotions, I think it’s best that you go and find a brick wall to date. If you can’t handle my jumping up and down every once and a while, it’s probably best to take your unemotional self and take that brick wall out for a night of staring into each others eyes and talking about nothing.

Last night, as I stopped on my way home from work to grab some groceries, I found myself in line behind a couple who seemed to be in the midst of a heated discussion. While I was too busy looking at the headlines on the tabloids to actually know what they were discussing, my ears perked up when the guy said to the girl “I just can’t date someone who is emotional.” Hold the phone. Are you for reals, Kenny Chesney? You’re dating a girl. Girls, no offense to us, we tend to be emotional, especially more so than guys. But for him to say he didn’t want to date someone who is emotional, I couldn’t help but laugh. Clearly the girl found this just as amusing as I did as she laughed her head off, much like I was doing in my head. Newsflash. Pretty much any person in life is going to having some emotions from time to time. Last time I checked, we aren’t robots. Yet.

So, FH, if you can handle emotions, but only in small doses, please be advised that the below list (along with sooooooo many other things) will cause some emotion (sad or happy) to come out of me. Better run for the hills or proceed with caution if you find me doing any of the following:

Insert tears. They finally let him play!!!

Watching the end of Rudy or Once. Tears will be shed.
Listening to Girl Talk. I may fling my arm in excitement while dancing around and give you a broken nose.
Watching any episode of Friday Night Lights. Five words for you. Season Three. Riggins. Cleats. Field. Annnnnd cue sobbing.
Being asked to recall the dance steps to any Britney Spears of ‘N SYNC song from high school. Yeah, I can still remember that shit and yes, I just admitted that.
Listening to any song from Les Miserables. Especially One Day More. Especially if it’s this version. Minus the Jonas Brother.
Watching Alex Day read Twilight. Two emotions at once. Crying because I’m laughing so hard.
Having people tell me they loved movies I’ve worked my ass off on. Animated, excited, giddy, proud. There are too many emotions to list.
Having anyone sing Rebecca Black. This is my new anger inducing pet peeve. Rage blackouts are forthcoming.

So consider this your warning. If you are like Mr. Grocery Store Emotion-phobe, it’s probably best that you find someone else to date. Perhaps a nice brick wall or mannequin from Sears would be willing to take on you and emotionless baggage. I’m not really quite sure you’re ready to deal with another human being if you don’t like emotion. Girlfriend or not, any person you interact with is going to have some emotion. I’d prefer that anyone I interact with, date, and perhaps one day marry not only accept me for my extensive array of emotions, but can also emote something themselves. Just skip the rage blackouts, please.

Xo,

Your Future Wife