English Boys Are Cute!

Upon a recent discovery, that all of my current top 5 hottest boys are English, I have decided this is where I need to be positioned. And so, perhaps I should move.

On top of the vague decision to move countries, to a place where it snows (I hate snow), I also decided I needed to marry one of my top 5.

Here they are.

5. Dominic Cooper. As seen in Mamma Mia and The Duchess. Understatedly cute, note the biceps, and a sexy accent to boot.

4. James McEvoy. A name on many lips of late. He first did it for me in Becoming Jane, and took our breath away in Atonement. With a long list of recent movies I can't wait too watch him in. Shame about the wife though.

3. Ben Barnes. His first major role was as Prince Caspian in the Chronicles of Narnia. The strong, silent, fighter with sexy eyes out shone any of the girl crushes people had developed on Peter and Edmund. He's funny wit, and gorgeous smile make him a Girl Favourite. (Check out the arms!)

2. Charlie Cox. A name not many have heard, but he definatly made my head swim when he started in Stardust. C19th style clothing, and a transition from geek to god makes you think twice about casting your eyes over this understated gorgeousness! He has the Cambridge class with a cute little grin. My kinda boy! (I may or may not have youtube-d him a few too many times.)

1. No surprises here. Rob Pattinson. Or Rpatz to his friends :) If you haven't seen Twilight, (hopefully my obsession didn't put anyone off) you need too see it just for him*. Rob is being dubbed the next Jude Law or Johnny Depp, at worst Orlando Bloom. Pretty dazzling future ahead! My friends and I agreed he's probably the best on-screen kiss and when I finally get myself tied down he's my free pass. (That's assuming I don't actually end up with him).

*I saw it last night for the 4th time. And bought the soundtrack. Obsessed?

I want you to be what I want

There's a certain sickening memory that pulls you from inside out and makes you want to catch your breathe for fear of suffocation.

A memory embedded deep you hate to admit, feels like the last time yo were ecstatically happy.

He's memory is tainted on my walls, the scent of Christmas night invades my mind with his face. He was my last Happy. He was the last time I considered forever.

He came from no where. Swept the wind from under me, and left too quickly with a little promise for future. He was the last time I uttered love.

And now, 3 years later, he is married and I am still here. In the same house. In the same bedroom with lame pictures of Paris on the walls and an empty double bed.

Summer reminds me of how my fear of deep water evaporated when I was with him. Summer reminds me, of being on holidays and spending every waking moment doing nothing, and savouring the hours just by kissing.

And summer reminds me of what I don't have any more. This is my third summer alone. Alone. The words uttered in cursed silence by the family. The pity and question mark their crooked smiles as they greet me with Christmas cheer. Little Sister introduced BF to the family this Christmas. I braved the questionable glances as to why Big Sister is still single. Questions of career, acting, 'friends' are all a way around the one thing they all want to know. "Is there anyone of special significance in your life?" In other words, "Please reassure us that you are normal and will not be the awkward 40 year old spinster".

I don't care about my single status. It is the choice I have made for right now. I could date about 3 guys right now. But I know I would settle.

And if I am this ok in my mind, then why do I want BM to be something more?

I want you to be what I want.

And so Christmas, Boxing Day, NYE, all remind me I am Still. Single.

And I remind myself. I. Don't. Care.

Even if I do, a little.

It is the last working day of the year. Well for me at least. As the afternoon receptionist, I get tomorrow off! I'm thrilled! Do you know how much shopping I have left to do???

Now, I make reference to my blog title, receptionist-not-slave. Some people seem to forget this. Such as the gallery department. They have me, folding invites, inserting gallery calenders, stuffing them in envelopes and sealing them shut. 1, 000 of them. I mean seriously. Is that really how I want to spend the last working day of the year??? So I am reading lots of gossip and blogs.

On my old blog (which to many people knew about so I sadly deleted it) I blogged about Twilight, alot! I have recently seen the movie 3 times in 10 days, and finished the last book Breaking Dawn. I'm so sad it's over. The most beautiful love story I have ever read.

And I quote;

About three things I was absoltuly certain.

1. Edward was a vampire.

2. There was apart of him, and I didn't know how

dominant that part was, that thirsted for my blood.

3. I was unconditionally and erevocably in love with him.

Now do yourself a favour. If you haven't read it...read it!

I came down stairs last night at 1am, and there is mum, crouched in the dimly lit hallway, like an Indian praying, reading Eclipse. The third book. She wouldn't even look up at me she was so engrosed.

It is every girls desire. To be loved, so fervently, passionatly, and singularly by the 'hottest guy in school'. No matter what we say, we all want an Edward.

It's funny talking to my married friends, or friends in 'deep, deep' love. They always say, "(Insert lovers name here) looks at me like Edward", or "(Lover) would stop a moving car with his bare hands for me". Sometimes I feel a little lonelier for hearing it.

At the heart of every girl or women, and even most men, is this unquenchable need to be someone else's absolute. Too know that someone is lying awake at night thinking about them. To walk in a room, and they only see you, even with Rachel Hunter standing next to you. We all long for an indescribable love. The epic love that can only be silenced by death, and even then that kind of love lives on in the hearts and minds of those who witnessed it.

It is for this love I wait. No matter how many guys ask me out, or pursue me, and no matter how great they are, I know what I am waiting for. And I know, without a doubt, I won't miss it. People have told me I'm too picky, I tell them I have standards. People worry I'll be overlooked because of my determination, I tell them he will see me. And friends and family alike put me in the single catagory, whether mentally or physically I become the single one. But that is ok. Because we just haven't found each other yet. And we will. At the right time, when life is as it should be, and we are ready. We will find each other. Just like Edward and Bella.

Edward to Bella

You don't know how long I've waited for you.

Christmas in OZ

And so the fridge is beginning to bulge with Christmas cake and turkey. Carols are echoing through the neighborhood, spilling out of homes donned in twinkling fairy lights. It takes you 1.5 hours to find a park at the mall, another 3 hours of discovering the perfect present for someone, 45 minutes in line to pay, and another 2 hours leaving the car park to amble your way through fumes and horns. All under the cloud of an Australian humid summers day.

This is Christmas. And we wouldn’t do it any different.

I had a white Christmas once. I was 3, living in Dayton Ohio. The only child, spoiled with a Fisher Price kitchen, table and chairs and Dolly. I’ve always wanted to have that Christmas back again. To be snuggled up in cashmere jumpers, actually craving the heat of the roast turkey and baked food. The way we see it in movies.

But in truth, I love the way we do. The heat of summer creeping into our homes as we sit, PJ shorts and nighties still on, ripping open our presents. Under the shade of oaks and gum trees we enjoy our Christmas lunch, often a hot turkey substituted for prawns and sea food. A game of cricket and swim on the beach, and then to enjoy the sun till 9pm, while neighbours, friends and the other side of the family visit for dessert.

This year is a little different for my family. With impending family feuds bubbling beneath the façade of joy, our family of six, have decided to do Christmas by ourselves. It’s a little scary. We aren’t dysfunctional, but we also aren’t the Brady Bunch. 16 year old Little Big Brother is a terror. Trying to decide what to buy him, I opted for tee-shirt, with skulls, knives and words of death. I think he will like it. Dad is a phlegmatic choleric, so you can imagine his quite control he asserts over all of us. Mum is most likely going through menopause, or she’s slowly losing her mind! I’ll keep a tight rein on the kitchen to avoid melt downs and flip outs. The Sisters, 19, and 14 are a little like Polar Bears. They’re lovely from a distance, but get to close and irritate, and you could end up with a rather large paw smack across your face. And I’m sure, actually, positive, I’m not perfect either.

So perhaps this Christmas will be more memorable than any other with Extended Fighting Family.

Interview Me

It's a sunny summer day here in Sydney. I spent the morning at the beach, and now I am reading the last 100 pages of Breaking Dawn. (If you haven't seen or read Twilight - DO!)
I figure its a lovely afternoon for a little interview.

The lovely That Damn Expat has interview me.

Here are the rules.

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

And here are your questions:

1.I'm a new reader so introduce yourself to me, in five sentences or less.

I live in Sydney Australia, but have lived all over Aus growing up, in Singapore and America. I'm an aspiring actress, working as a receptionist, fighting for social justice, in particular for the slave-trade to be abolished. Ah, 2 sentences with lots of ,'s. I'm good!

2.You say you are an actress. Which actor/actress had the most influence on you?

I absolutely love actresses like Drew Barrymore, Rachel McAdams, Natalie Portman. But I'd say Angelina Jolie has had the greatest impact on me. Though I disagree with her personal life, what she has done for humanity, the things we don't see, is incredible!

3.If you were a movie character which character would you be?

A warrior princess, riding a horse and fighting for an epic love. Take your pick of movies! Or the girl in the Romantic Comedy who gets the hot boy.

4.What is the one thing you love the most, and one you hate the most about yourself?

Hard question!!! Apparently I have 'perfect' shaped eyes! Haha. I like that I care about others and not about myself. That's the most important thing to me. And I hate my nose!!! I'm all for plastic surgery!

5. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?

NYC! I love it! And have a hut in the Maldives.

Modelling Around

The end of the week is rolling around far to slowly. 54 minutes to go. Then I’m seeing Twilight…again. Oh Edward!

There is a side of me, that likes to be best. Best at acting, “Employer of the Month”, ‘Happiest Classmate”, “Best Looking in the Office”. Yes, I am slightly competitive. I thrive on peoples compliments. Especially at work, when I’m always told how great my outfits are and how good my hair looks. And so, I have comfortably nestled into being the fashionista receptionist at the front of the office, greeting everyone with the award wining smile and smooth ‘Hello’. (Ok, maybe I’m not that glamorous, but a girl can dream.

When I came in today, I had jeans on, a peasant top, and sand on my feet from my morning lying on the beach. And I was greeted by a model. A. Model. In my office. WTH! She was temping and I was jealous. I felt short and fat. Incredibly pail, regardless of the summer tan, and my hair wasn’t as blond. At least my toes are pedicure-d still from the wedding.

The Flagpole was nice too, dammit! She had a hot English accent and a gorgeous little outfit. Am I becoming a little self-obsessed with being a model not an actor? Perhaps I just have a girl-crush.

Top 5 hottest models?

5. Agnyes Deye

4. Lara Bingle

3. Gemma Ward

2. Kate Moss

1. Miranda Kerr

Whose in your top 5?

The Short of it.

I don’t like ugly mugs. Or mugs that aren’t made for your hands to comfortably curve inside your cupped palms. And they can’t have stains on the bottom from left over coffee. Or tea. And if there is a pattern, it can’t be too colourful. Or florally. Or dull. Probably best if it is plain white. All the mugs in the office kitchen are ugly. I have to resort to the floral ones. They're to small for a decent cup of tea, or coffee, or a sneaky milo!

BM is still calling, messaging, stalking. Seriously! I discovered we’re friends on FB. You know what that means don’t you…he’s checked out all my pictures, read all my wall comments, and the replies, and has seen what events I have coming up.

He called last night, when I was on the way home. It was 10 pm and awkward. I wanted to get off the phone as soon as possible.

How do I shake this one? It’s just too awkward. Our best friends just got married!

The more I get to know various boys, and have more potential suitors than I have since I was 17 and living vicariously, the more I realize, I am willing to wait for Mr. Right. I know what I want, and I’ll wait for it. Even if I am still single into my mid 20’s, God help me!

On another, non boy related note, I did my Christmas shopping today, and feel good. I also bought a white tee-shirt. It is hot! Especially with short shorts and a hat. Totally hot!

And I am going to the Ice Bar tonight. Its pure ice. Everything. You can only stay in there for 30 minutes, your drink out of ice cups, and there are No. Boys. A night out with the girls! Just what I need.

PS. I also really, really want a hot tu-tu like Aggi. She is totally rocking my boat atm!

What's on your fashion wish list?

3 Single Actresses

Three aspiring actresses, 1 red head and 2 blonde's, discuss their dating lives over sushi.

Blond 1; So I was a bridesmaid on Friday.
Blond 2; Any hot boys?
B1; Not exactly. An embarrassed blush creeps across her face.
Redhead; Oh do tell! While shoving sushi mi in her mouth.
B1; It was the best man.
B2; Oh shit! That's fantastic.
B1: And I was drunk.
RH: Even better!
B2; How long has it been?
B1; Since?
B2; Since anything. You don't normally get drunk -
RH; Or hook up with Best Men.
They both dissolve into laughter.
B1: Three years.
RH; Picks herself off the chair. You haven't kissed anyone for 3 years?
B1; Not since Heart Break, and now I'm accidentally dating BM. SHIT!

The B2 and RH try to be sympathetic and stifle their laughter. Change of subject.

B2: So I slept with French Man.
RH; Finally!
B2; Hiding a smile. He told me I had eyes like a leopard.
B1; What the?
B2; And then jumped off the bed and danced around the floor like one.
RH; As a joke!
B2; No, he was serious. He was trying to be seductive.
B1; Bahaha, did he pounce on you and rip your clothes off with his teeth too?
B2; Not before I collected my belongings and made a run for it. He won't stop calling.
RH; Tell him to go back to Africa.

The dumplings arrive, with more cucumber roles and egg plant.

RH; So I saw my therapist today. She said the reason I haven't dated any of these guys is I scare them away?
B1; You're a femme fatal, what does she men?
RH; Apparently, my insults emasculate them. Apparently I have to be nicer.
B2; Or more like a tigress. That supposedly gets them.
RH; What the hell. B1, maybe I'll take a page out of your book, and be celibate.
B2; That'll last till tonight.

The dating woes of three single actresses. One celibate, accidentally dating someone, one who can't sleep her way through Sydney fast enough, and one who has finally discovered why she hasn't been laid in over 4 months.

Heart in Action

Justice is what love looks like in public.

It’s to easy not to care. Most morning when we wake up, we merely think about anything, but what the day holds for us and what we have to do. Obligatory tasks. Free time wasters. It is human nature. But we are not excused for our ignorance.

We live in the age of knowledge. We are held accountable for what we knew, or could have known, and ignored.

Life isn’t about what has happened to you. Or what people think of you. Or how you are feeling right now.

Not because these aren’t important, but because these should be secondary to how you are affecting other people. It is a cycle that cannot be broken. Let me explain.

When we step out in love for people, and offer a hand, or a smile, a kind word and a gracious offering, we are changing someone else’s world, for the better. Regardless of their response, that little act of kindness and love is breaking down walls erected around their heart. Be it a pebble or a brick, or eventually the entire wall, it is making a difference.

On thing I have learnt in my limited experience, is that when you love others, you love yourself. I cant explain that logic. I guess it is a law. Like the law of gravity.

If you doubt me, give it a go.

On Sunday, a few friends and I delivered 50 hampers to a housing commission community. We have been in this community for 3 years, fixing up their gardens, giving them clothes, sitting and talking with them. I met one lady with schizophrenia. It was so sad. She sat there, talking normally, then start manifesting. I would ask her what the voices said and she would scream at us to get out. We just sat and talked with her, and prayed for her, and then she wept, said thank you, and that it was her birthday. This happened all in 45 minutes. It didn’t take long to change someones day.

I visited OASIS centre today. A youth refugee in the city, and Streetlevel, an outreach centre with free meals, councelling and showers. That is where I see hands and feet, actively moving, heart in motion. And smiles. The volunteers are grinning. The marginalized and forgotten remembered by a stranger with a heart.

So over this holiday period, who can you smile at? Who needs a small gift of compassion and empathy? Is there an old lady who doesn’t have family? Bake her some cookies. Those of us who are so lucky, we are so few. The majority of the world is lost, forgotten and alone. So lets love someone else, even for 5 minutes. You never know whose world it could change.

Dear Bride

Dear Bride

You’re wedding day turned out a success, despite the preceeding events.
The hurricane display outside didn’t go away, how ever much we prayed, and running you to the car with your dress above your head was not, as I imagine, how you dreamed you would assend your pumpkin.

I remember sitting in the back seat, squashed between the two other yellow dresses, as they were quickly creasing, feeling sad and sick as you looked out the window at the billowing trees. I know you were regretting chosing this date.

Your face as you stood, moments before walking down the isle was not the look of a joyful bride, but a little girl devastated that the dream was not as you had dreamed. Seeing Psyco ex-Bridesmaid driving into the city had not put your fears to rest, despite the army of men standing guard at the door, and your yet trail and frantic rush had created quite the stress. But I must say, as I watched you glide so gracefully down that isle, I knew you would be ok. It was all I could do not to cry the waterproof mascara off!

It was a shame we couldn’t have the fairy tale photos under the great oaks, and on the little bridge over the water, but those pictures on the grand stairwell of the hotel were beautiful, even if your smile was fake and I could see you heart breaking a little. Mine was breaking with yours. I wanted to make it better.

You had your heart set on a little retunder by the beach, so the three car motorcade set off for Balmoral. I have to admit, in hindsight this was the funniest moment of the whole day. Watching your new husband try to shield you from the torrents of rain and gail force winds, turning your umbrella inside out, made me smile a little, though I was very adamant on making sure I could deter as much rain from your hair as possible.

The three Bridesmaid’s and three Groomsmen, stood with our big white unbrella’s facing the billowing wind, protecting you and your new husband from the wind. I thought I would blow away like Mary Poppins. It was the first time I saw you smile. And by smile, I mean grin. We all stood there, our bodies postulated in protection from the wind, finally pissing ourselves laughing. I guess that was the point we all stopped caring that our curls had fallen out, and our dresses were saturated. It was a fun day, and you were surrounded by the most important people in your life, plus one photographer.

The reception past in a blur, perhaps it was just my thirst for the red wine. I remember the speeches, the love that encapsulated each persons words, the tears of the fathers, the heartfelt memories of your sister, and then your words, telling me how much our friendship meant to you. I was so blessed in that moment, and was thanking God again for waterproof mascara.

Bride, I’m so happy you married the Man that you did. The way he looks at you, speaks of you and loves you has reignited my hope in men, and I’m thrilled that I will know you two for the rest of my life!

When you left, I shed another little tear. I will miss you. I will miss our sleep overs, and being able to hold apart of you. I know you aren’t gone, but you are completely his now. And while I sound selfish, I mean that in the most gracious sense of the word.

I have a confession to make. I broke my three year Good-Girl fast. I had a little more to drink than usual, and threw sensibility away. Stupid Little Bridesmaid.

So the conclusion of your wedding, saw me with The Best Man, being cliché and drunk, making out under the canopy of the trees by the beach, with the weather finally at rest. Oh how embarrassing! I kept giggling, thinking how trashy and movie script ending this is. And I’m to ashamed to tell you. Perhaps in two weeks after your honeymoon I’ll confess the disgrace. I swore him to secrecy.

So now, Dear Bride, I find myself accidentally dating the Best Man. Oops!

And I quite possibly am not interested.

Edward Saga

Tomorrow is the wedding. I am sad. Well not sad, just going to miss the friendship I have now L. Things change when people get married. You cant have sleep overs, they always want to go home to their husbands. Girls night are less frequent. There is always someone else they need to be thinking about.
And this is simply me being selfish. If I cant be selfish on here, where can I be?

I hope the wedding isn’t destroyed by Schizophrenic Bridesmaid. Oh dear God let her get the flu, or become paralysed (for only the afternoon). Or be attacked by a swarm of bees. We will have security there…I think of it as preparation for my pending Hollywood Stardom!

Speaking of which, I saw Twilight last night. OMG!!!!! It comes out today in Australia, but I managed to sneak a preview…with 500 screaming 14 year olds. I need to see it again so I know what they actually said. When Edward arrived on screen they screamed for about 5 minutes. I think I few might have passed out.

So my adult friends and I are now even more obsessed with a fictional vampire.

And I met a cute band boy last night who has a heart for Social Justice. Hmmm….perhaps I might get my own Edward Cullen.

To Move or Not to Move

You realise we live in a technologically advanced world, when you mother text’s you from the living room, to discuss the family bbq this weekend, when you’re in your bedroom.

As of this morning, I am looking at apartments. It is time for me to Move Out.

I don’t want to. I like my bedroom. It’s an attic, with bay windows, white wood, a walk in wardrobe, and a fridge in the kitchen, occasionally stacked with food when mum feels like shopping.

I like saving $200 a week on rent. Not having to worry about a house mate. Have a plasma TV. The coffee machine I great every morning like its my best friend.

But then there is the family. I mother who has become menopausal-rex, a dragon 19 year old sister (who wastes her money on designer clothes and I steal them, hence we fight a lot), a 16 little bro, how can only say two words. One beginning with F and the other ending in unt. And a little sister whois 13 going on 32. She thinks she is actually my age, and hence can wear my work clothes out with her friends to the mall. And finally there is dad. The man who was once my hero, now consumed with finances, and work, and politics, to busy and preoccupied for real converstation. He loves me, I know this because once every few months he msg’s me, saying so. It’s a little unfair of me to say this about them all, cause I do love them, its just so hard to live under the same roof!!!

So the pro’s of moving out.
+ I’ll probably want to see them
+We’ll probably get along
+I’ll have my own independence
+I’ll be able to make, eat, enjoy my own meals
+I can live closer to the city or the beach
+I’ll be getting out of suburbia
+I can stop avoiding going home

The con’s
- It costs a fricken lot to live in Sydney!
- Finding the perfect house mate. People are hard to live with…I’m hard to live with!
- If I move where I want to live, Kirrabilli, overlooking Sydney Harbour, there’s no where to park my car!
- I just might, a tiny bit, miss home…roasts and a washing machine? You would too!
- If 6 months in I want to move home, I’ll be reduced to my bro’s old room – everyone’s bidding for my Repunzle Attic.
- My clothes allowance will go down, I’ll stop going to the gym to save money, I won’t have a big TV, or the internet, and I’ll have to pay for my own hot water, electiricy, and start buying coffee’s every morning.

See my dilemma? What’s better. Money or Sanity?

Tomorrow I will blog about my weekend. It was a wild one. Hen’s nights, acting parties, pole dancing. So much to tell you.

B x

Bubble of Nothing

I feel like I entered a stranger universe. A bubble perhaps. Where today is clouded and confusing. Nothing quite makes full sense. It is like having two pieces of a puzzle, that look perfect together in theory, but just don’t quite fit. That is my brain and body, and the rest of the outside world.

I stopped by the coolest blog today. Girlmeetsnyc and read an amazing entry. Check it out. I love this quote.

Speak justice, the language that can change the world.

I feel complete when I do justice.

Today is not the right day for me to start on my favourite topic, work is almost over and my fingers are tired from my day of typing. But I vow to blog more on this topic.

The rest of my evening, I am predicting, will be spent in this bubble. It is slightly secure. A little frustrating.

I did something funny the other night. I had my grad dinner. It was my 4th one so I wasn’t really to into it. During speeches my friend C and I decided it would be funny to sit under the table, beneath the elegant white table cloth, in our sexy designer dresses and heals. I’m not sure what possessed us to be so ‘silly’ and ‘childlike’ but hey, you only live once and I’ve heard these same speeches four years in a row. Everyone thought it was pretty funny, until my date, also known as my pretty-much-brother/boy-best-friend got a glass of water and threw it into my face.

My hair, make up and dress were completely attacked. I cleaned up ok and no one could tell, but he spent the rest of the night in disgrace!

More from the Schizophrenic Ex-bridesmaid

I had to bite my pride, swallow the desire to rip A’s head off, and apologies for shouting slightly obscene comments in the middle of the night at her house. She has now threatened to arrive at the wedding ceremony and call objection. She also made mention of the fact that The Bride's wedding dress can easily be destroyed and we better watch our backs during while taking photo’s.

I haven’t been in a bitch fight since year 8, nearly 9 years ago. I cannot believe this is happening. We are getting security guards for the wedding, and A will be escorted, by will or force, if she dares come near The Bride!
Imagine having to deal with this 9 days out from your wedding. This is a time you should be glowing with happiness and having spray tans, not dealing with schizophrenic friends and their threats!

Bridesmaid From Hell

Perhaps I have a mental condition, but I actually looked forward to getting back to work today. I know. W.T.H!



I have decided I need to write about my wedding experiences, because they are the kind of stories you would find in the over-dramatised wedding movies. My family and friends often tell me my life is a little too much like 27 Dresses. In two weeks I'm a bridesmaid, again. I was one last year, and don't ever hear from the girl, and was asked to be one this year for a classmate I wouldn't even invite to my own wedding, so I declined. That wedding story is a whole other blog. People don't believe the story when I tell them.



So getting back to my intended story for this post. On Saturday The Bridesmaids hosted a lingerie and hen's for our Bride. Leading up there have been domestics, with A, the 3rd bridesmaid, deciding to call me and tell me that the sister/maid-of-honor and Mother of the Bride, didn't want to have a lingerie party, as it was so expensive and no one could afford it. A long story short, after A put The Bride through a day of tears because she thought everyone but me was against her, it turned out Sister and Mother knew nothing of this supposed conversation with A and were looking forward to the party. So after more domestics, we finally had the event, and it went perfectly! Everyone loved it, and the 3 bridesmaids for the first time ever, actually managed to get along. Later, at the resturant, A and the Bride got into a little fight. The Bride made a passing comment that A's partner was a little weird, which resulted in A storming out, and 45 minutes later calling The Sister, to tell her she would no longer be a bridesmaid. She then proceeded to message the Bride hideous, emotionally manipulative message saying she would destroy the bridesmaid dress, if she didn't go round and appologies by 11. It was her fricken hen's for goodness sake! We had nuddy runs and dares planned.

So round goes the Bride, trying to hold it together, and finds out that A has given the dress to a friend. End of story, A was completely unreasonable, even ignoring Mother of the Brides sinsere pleas for the return of the dress. The Bride had paid for them all and there was little chance of finding more.

The Bride spent the remainder of her Hen's Night curled up on her bed crying. I couldn't believe a person could do something so awful. A is still sending messages of hatred, as if she hasn't caused enough crap!

So the moral of the story...don't have bridesmaids....or don't have a wedding. Simply elope. The more I experience of this world, the more likely I am to get married on a beach, bare foot, with only me, my lover and a minister!



Friends are your bestfriends, till there not. Then their your worst enemy!