In the beginning there was a proposal...
We're talking a beach, at night, just me, him.... a few teenagers eating Happy Meals in the dark total romance.
My heart fluttered, I swooned, I was the happiest girl on earth and then the realisation sank in....
I had to be a bride.
I had to spend 12 months of my life going slowly crazy over wedding invites, lacey things, a dress I'd only ever wear once and possibly turn into a nagging creature my boyfriend (now fiance) would end up regretting.
Oh pants...
We were lucky though. Down on our luck and saving for a house the decision was taken by my beau and I that until we had purchased the house of our dreams (which in this economic climate seemed unlikely) we would put the actual nuptials on the back burner for now.
That was September 2010.
It's now August 2011 and I am sat here writing this at our dining room table, snug and settled into our new house.
So it begins, I've been given the go ahead to start organising and I'm terrified.
I have never been a girly girl, I've never dreamed of my white wedding dress or the perfect man with the perfect wedding, with the perfect cake. As a matter of fact I've openly mocked these women.
So join me on my journey from the initial preparations (ie. preventing my husband to be from getting any facial tattoos) to the tiny details (The Anti-Bride Visits the Scarily Expensive Cosmetic Dentist). It won't be long before the big day...Argh!
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