So being engaged is lovely. Just lovely. You get to prance around with a sweet ring on your finger and an even sweetner feeling of smugness that you'll never again have to worry if he's ever going to caaaaaaaall???? People bring champagne to your house and all your girlfriends treat you like a princess. It is freakin' awesome.
Planning a wedding in four months, however, slightly less lovely and smug-making. Not the actual ceremony, food and party bit, that's fun and, you know, not too difficult unless you happen to be demented and care about things like colour schemes and having everything fit into your "romantic/casual Parisian rose garden in June" theme. No, that's the stuff I'm enjoying thinking about, other stuff not so much:
Other stuff like the fact I'm marrying an American. I mean, obviously, I love that my betrothed is American (not least because he sounds very sexy when he sings country songs and also deeply understands my appreciation for all things pie-related) but dear God and sweet baby Jesus, does it ever complicate things. We are currently in the midst of his marriage visa application, a process devised to inject your special day with the romantic thrills that can only come from endless paperwork and fingerprinting. Hurrah!
It is also proving staggeringly difficult to find (even a picture of) a wedding dress that isn't horrible. Or covered in seqins. Or feathers. Or bows. Or ALL OF THE FREAKIN' ABOVE. Seriously, so many hideous merengues, only so much time to wade through all the crap and Swarovsky. However, on my daily trawl of the few wedding themed websites I can stomach, I might just have happened upon something. Obviously, it will only be stocked in some silly boutique in Williamsburg (hipsters get married too!), so I shall have to get it made. I also want to tweak it a bit anyway, for added individuality and, if I'm honest, SEX APPEAL. So if anyone knows a Berlin based dress makery type person, hit me up. Please.
I've just come to the horrible realisation that I've written a whole paragraph about my search for a perfect wedding dress. For strangers to read. On the internet. If you'll excuse me I have to go lie down in a darkened feminist novel. Good night.