I pride myself on the fact that I’m not really a Bridezilla.  I’ve been quite laid-back about this whole wedding thing, and actually more into the whole being married thing.  Bring that on.

A few months ago, I did have a blip about envelopes, of all things.  And then I got over myself.

Other than matching paper goods, the only stipulation I’ve made is that the bridesmaids’ outfits don’t go all the way to lavender on the purple spectrum.  And then there’s the hat thing.  But that was a joint decision.

OK so, other than matching paper goods, no lavender and no hats, I just want to party.

When I chose my dress, I wondered if my two ‘requirements’ meant that I was too picky.  I was later deemed to be one of the easiest brides the shop has ever dealt with.  We shall see if that lasts through my fittings.

My point is this.  I’m cool.  I’m calm.  Everything is (really) fine.  On the outside.

I used to be really into dream interpretation.  Obsessed with ‘symbols’ and ‘themes’.    Did dreaming about a bakery mean I wanted my own business?  Well, I kinda do.  But it also meant I was hungry and needed a doughnut.

I’ve been thinking more about what dreams mean.  Because on Monday, I had my first wedding disaster dream.

My bridal crew is already down the aisle and I can’t find my shoes.  I’m searching in my old room, and find my favourite purple boots, which I put on.  (That part might not be far from the truth.)  On the way to the door, which is locked, the chair splits in half.  And I end up having to knee-walk down the aisle, with my Dad carrying the wheels behind me.  Did I mention the back of my dress is tucked into my underwear?  Yep.

And the processional music has been switched to Ecuador by Sash!:

I don’t know why.  But after seeing the video, maybe it’s because we toyed with the idea of having the best man’s hawk fly the rings in.  That won’t be happening, either.  (Even though I’ve heard that it’s good luck if a bird shits on you.  Don’t ask me how I know).

Anyway, and then I woke up.

I’m cool.  I’m calm.  It’s funny now.

However.  If on the day, the actual processional music is somehow mixed up with Eurodance from the 90’s, I will go all Bridezilla.

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