Attack of the bridezillas.

I promise I won't be an over-excited bride that shares every detail about her wedding planning from the color of the napkins to the beading on her dress but I will tell you that between obsessively...yes obsessively searching Pinterest and Etsy, as well as, attempting to draw the exact type of wedding dress I would like, I have totally become lost in this whirlwind they call wedding planning and I have learned that I am way more decisive that I had thought and really terrified of the bridezilla population out there. You know who you are ladies. 

My mother decided to take me to one of those frilly and fun bridal shows a few weeks ago. We decided to go to see what these bridal conventions were all about. If you know me, I am hardly the type to attend one of these overwhelming events but decided to indulge in this pre-wedding check on the long-list of things to do. 

We walked in and were immediately greeted by a zealous bride convention representative lady with a basket full of stickers. I was tagged with a 'Bride' sticker and a pat to get started. Jeez. I was already getting stuffy. There were tables filled with booklets, business cards, photographs, hair pieces, veils, cake, make-up, and over-excited brides-to-be searching for the perfect photographer or the carriage that Cinderella had for their dream of a wedding. 

My mother (much like me), and I walked into this room, where the cheesy wedding music was blaring, the mimosas were flowing, and the brides-to-be were walking around with bags overflowing with goodies and we just sat down. It was entirely too much. When the announcers asked who was stressed planning and the hands shot up with the screams from bridezillas in ever corner of the room; I looked at my mom, stood up, and walked out of the door, grabbing a piece of cake on my way out. It was raspberry lemon and was so unbelievably delicious but not enough to get me back in that room with raging, stressed fanatic brides.

My mom quickly followed, tearing off the "mother of the bride" sticker off of her shirt saying "I can't believe I had to wear that. I think the brides are going to attack the stage." 

We got into the car and swore we would never go to one of those bridezilla conventions again and then proceeded to get cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes.....top of the "meals not allowed" for brides to be list, but who ever said I was a traditional bride to be? 

Clearly I am not worthy of this "bride-to-be" title but I will stick to my discreet wedding planning, away from the hysteria, eating a cheeseburger and milkshake here and there.

Oh and my apologies that I have neglected this blog of mine lately. As you can see, I was clearly busy, running from bridezillas and eating cake.