3-legged dog florist for the win
14.05.15, 10:22 am

Scary florist business is somehow sorted, despite me bumbling my way through the appointment with the usual mix of ineptitude and bewilderment. To be honest, I’d already decided that the florist seemed fine when we sat down in the shop and were ambushed by two dogs, one of whom only had 3 legs. THERE IS NOTHING CUTER THAN A 3-LEGGED DOG! IT MIGHT FALL OVER AT ANY MINUTE AND THAT IS ADORABLE! Florist’s face definitely fell when she said, ‘Now, I know from experience that you’ve probably been on Pinterest non-stop looking at flowers!’ and I was very much, ‘No. Not even a little bit. All I know is the flowers that I don’t like. And that’s basically daises.’ When I turned to James to ask his opinion, he did his usual thing of looking panicked, pausing well past the awkwardness threshold, saying ‘Yeah, I guess!’, and then retreating further into the corner. And yet despite all this, the flowers are somehow sorted.

This weekend I’m going back to the bridal shop to look at belts, and also hopefully to reassure myself that the dress I bought is actually fine. And to be talked through an insanely large range of hair accessory options. Next weekend is bridesmaid dresses. After that, who knows? I’m actually in the middle of a free morning at work, and am pondering starting to write my wedding speech. I’ve been writing it in my head for the past two months, either whilst on the exercise bike or walking to and from work, but actually putting it down in words feels quite intimidating. What if it’s rubbish? And very much not funny? I don’t know why I’m so set on the idea of giving a speech anyway… I think it’s all just part of the ridiculous, ever-burning problem that I have with perceived sexism. Why do women never get to talk at their own weddings, and instead have to have their dad talk about them? Especially as my dad kind’ve sucks! So it’s really my own fault I’m now stuck with a load of speech nerves.

James’s parents have invited some random just-discovered distant relatives from New Zealand over to the UK, and for some inexplicable reason they’re coming to Sheffield rather than Dumfries, and so both them and James’s parents are descending and we have to be a part of it all. I did not sign up for any of this, but no one seems to care. So we face 3 days of a) James’s parents taking over our house and owning a key, so free to root through all our cupboards and b) going off to work, then coming home and having to entertain two strangers and endure their comments about our bedraggled-but-well-loved garden because they’re both really into landscaping. Please leave my dandelioned lawn alone, it’s just trying to get by in life. I sense I will choose the coping measure that I used when we were forced to live in that old woman’s attic for 3 week whilst our house sale went through, i.e. working insanely long hours at work and then pretending to be very tired and going to bed at 9pm.

The Tories are back in government. God, it’s so awful. Where do all these secret Tory voters live? Genuine question. I was going to stay up all night and watch the election, until that awful exit poll came in and I thought, ‘sod it, no chance’ and went off to bed. I don’t really have anything else to add to this particular plot point, except AARGGHH.

My friend Julia has just had a beautiful baby girl. We met for lunch the other day and she took a picture of me holding the bambina and sent it to James, purely for trolling purposes. And it totally worked, with much cooing and dopey grinning. On a similar vein, my period is due this week and for the first time in about 10 years I am not baseline mildly anxious about it turning up. If it turns up then grand, and if it doesn’t, well, I won’t show at the wedding and it’ll at least get the pregnancy ball rolling. Ju has pointed out that James would probably have to end up doing the honeymoon solo, which would suck, so hopefully it will turn up soon. But still, yay for reduced stress! I’m still insanely worried about having to do pregnancy in general, but given the time that will have to wait for another entry.

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