Galentine’s Day

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I’d set out to write a damning post about Valentine’s Day today, poo pooing anything remotely heart shaped, made of chocolate or encased in red foil. I’ve changed my mind about that, having read a few lovely blog posts sharing intimate and heart warming stories of love and commitment. It’s given me the adjustment that I needed, and yes I really am that fickle.

You see, I love romance and love. I live for it. Nothing makes me happier than people falling in love and expressing that love in whichever way they see fit (within reason, obvs). Give me a grand, romantic gesture any day of the week.

I’m lucky to have a loved one of my own and to be part of a partnership that feels like it was meant to be. It’s no exaggeration to say that I feel like all my wishes came true the day I met Mr Bass.

Yet despite this, Valentine’s day just doesn’t do it for me. I always end up deflated as the 14th draws to a close and I know it’s because I’ve bought into the hype. I’ve got carried away in a frenzy of heart shaped paraphernalia; allowed it to turn my head and make me expect things I don’t even want or need.

Who run the world?
Who run the world?

I’m lucky in love every day so one set date to show and receive love is just not necessary, in my eyes. If I was single I’m sure I’d still be hopeful but I’d feel the same; it’s a Hallmark holiday designed purely to get the cash registers kerching-ing (BAH HUMBUG).

Still, every year as I watch the girls in the office be bombarded with bouquets and shiny things, or get whipped off on boutique hotel breaks in the country, I start to wish for those things myself. When I don’t get the same, I feel let down. Which is rude, ungrateful and frankly pathetic, especially when I’ve specifically said, “Don’t get me anything”.

But since I am going back and forth on this, I have to consider, is it really such a bad thing to encourage people to share their feelings ? I suppose not.

Anyway, in the spirit (and my original theme) of hating VD (the day, not the disease), I decided to stop myself being disappointed this year by spreading love, instead of expecting it. Inspired by my heroine, Leslie Knope of Parks & Rec and her Galentine’s concept, I sent all my best (UK) girls some love, reminding them of why I love them. Which I do, very much and all in different ways.

(Non-UK babes, I’m afraid I didn’t organise myself in time, but this is a new tradition so expect mail in February 2016).

So, today officially it’s Galentine’s Day and I’m all about the ladies.

All my beautiful ladies: I heart you long time. From the bottom of my grumpy heart.

All images via Google.

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Bridesmaids

Is this image a spoiler alert?
Is this image a spoiler alert?

I can hardly believe I haven’t talked about THE BEST NEWS yet. I started to tip tap up a little post about this very thing a few months back but couldn’t find the appropriate words at the time to say how happy I am about it.

And then, something happened, and the thing I am going to tell you about now was brought forward and here I am with it looming in a big fabulous way and I am excited but also dead nervous! What am I like?

I’M GOING TO BE A BRIDESMAID!

A big fat, fabulous bridesmaid, finally! It’s so exciting. Back in the Summer, I was having a seemingly innocuous conversation with my Sister in Law to be, when she slipped in the question. Second best question I have ever been asked, if I’m honest. Well, not including the age-old: “Would you like a cup of tea?” obviously.

So I’m a bridesmaid in less than three weeks and it’s going to be great. I have an a-m-a-z-i-n-g dress that I was allowed to pick myself, a h-u-g-e petticoat of epic proportions (and the one I wore to my own wedding) and I can’t wait.

I’m not nearly as trim as I had hoped to be, since it’s been brought forward five months, but really, who fucking cares? So I could have been a dress size smaller with more time but does it really matter? Sure, less chins in the photos would have been nice but I can’t spend my life hating on myself, missing out of brilliantly fun times. Thin doesn’t necessarily mean better after all.

I’m refusing to sweat the small stuff. Besides, the shoes I’m wearing make me super tall and it stretches everything else out in the end. Just so long as I don’t fall on my arse, right?

My brother and his wife are already married, having tied the knot at City Hall, NYC in October. This is the ceremony for the people who couldn’t make that event (my family included) and so it’s kind of a big deal.

Instead of a traditional ceremony, it will be a tying of the hands, with a friend officiating. I’m doing the reading while they’re tied together! How cool is that?

Growing up I was always so jealous of friends who got to put on (admittedly hideous) dresses and be bridesmaids and flower girls. Our family isn’t the largest in the world, and there were never that many weddings going on, so I was never asked. Plus I was a total klutzy hot mess so there’s no guarantee I even would’ve been, even by default.

Now I’m older, most of my close friends are yet to be betrothed (I can’t wait for them to start, if that’s what they want to do) and so I’ve not been asked by them either. So I was beginning to wonder if this old broad (me) would ever get to have her moment in the sun.

And now it’s finally happening! I can’t wait to spend some time with the other maids and soak up the lovely atmosphere. My new sister is a joy and a very welcome addition to the family dynamic, so this will be a nice way to celebrate that too.

I will follow this up with some images and detail nearer the time but for now know I am buzzing. It’s going to be a lovely lead into Christmas, in a gorgeous little sea-side town – and everything will be so full of love. My favourite thing in the whole world.

Now, I’m off to put my contribution to the party playlist together. Life of a bridesmaid, bitches!