Here Comes the Bride.

Exams are finished (thank God), so I can now freely blog without feeling guilty. Woohoo!

The other night, I was texting a friend, and the subject turned to marriage -or more specifically, weddings. We began to discuss what we wanted our wedding to be like, how big it would be, what you'd wear and so on. I've really only had this discussion with two people, but it's interesting to see what people are into for their weddings.

My friend, we'll call her Lexie, wanted a big wedding in a garden or a cathedral, despite being an atheist. The dress would be simple, with no embroidery, no veil and absolutely NO lace, according to her. 

My sister wants a big wedding with about two hundred guests. I never tell her she doesn't know two people. Nor do I tell her that I doubt she'll marry. Sometimes it's best to keep things to yourself. She wants a Monique Lhuilier gown. In fact, I think I can probably find the exact one she wants. Her reception would be at some very large expensive place. All in all it would be very dramatic.

Me? I don't want anything too flash. A quiet wedding, with just my family and close friends. In perhaps a rose garden or courtyard. A string quartet would play Cannon as I walked to my groom. I would want personalised vows, but I'm not sure if I could write anything eloquent enough. My dress wouldn't have to be very flash. I wouldn't want off the rack, but I wouldn't spend thousands and thousands on it. Perhaps something like this. I'd want the reception at a small, intimate restaurant. Once again, nothing too flashy and not too many people. I know that if I had a big wedding, I'd be too busy worrying about everybody else having a good time to enjoy what's supposed to be the best day of your life. The only thing I'm set on is having the photos in the same place my parents had theirs (unless I skip countries, of course), which is in the local park amongst the big tree roots.

What about my faithful readers, however many there are of you. What do you want for your wedding? And if you're already married, what was it like? Did you enjoy it, would you do it differently?

Crooner

My latest fantasy in a guy is a jazz singer. I'm madly in love with Jamie Cullum, who's not particularly sexy, but his voice...Oh my. And he plays piano. Put two and two together and you have the perfect man - well, in my humble opinion, any way.

So, in my search of a crooning jazz singer, I've begun trying to find jazz bars to go to and...well, watch. Thing is, even if I found one, I couldn't go, only being seventeen. I have to wait a bit longer yet, which is rather irritating seeing as I want a jazz singer now. 

Imagine with me, if you will your man playing on the grand piano in your living room, singing some song from the top of his head. You wander over, and for a moment, he continues playing whilst looking you in the eye, that cheeky glint in his. Then suddenly, he stops playing and stand up next to you. He lifts you on the piano and you do it on the keys. And being a pianist, he's very good with his hands. Alright, alright. I'm pathetic and have far too much time on my hands, I know. But imagine it. Hot, isn't it?

As a side note, less than a week 'till my exams are over!

Curse of the Double Ds.

I went bra shopping with my mother the other day. There was a great special on, "any bra for half price!" I thought, grand. A really awesome bra for half price - for those of you who are unaware, bra prices in New Zealand are way over priced.

I found the perfect bra. It was black, with a layer of lace over the cup, and a bit of frill on the under wire. Excited, I began to flick through the bra sizes. The tiny ones that a five year old couldn't fit, the pre-puberty bras, the A, AA, B, BB, C, CC, then the D, then...wait on. Where's my size? The double-D? Sighing, I picked up the D in the vain hopes that my previous bra was merely mislabeled. I went to the changing room and tried it on to no avail.

Turns out pretty bras don't come in anything bigger than a D cup. I was gutted. My mother said to me, "Oh but you can try this one on," waving a bra that would have been very comfortable but in no way attractive. Now, I'm not a big girl (as seen in my pictures), and I would even go as far as to say that my breasts are not really that large. Surely they should make the pretty-black-lacy-bra in a DD? It's really not that bigger of a deal, is it? 

Hold Me Again, As Tight As You Can.

Don't get excited. I know the title of this blog sounds as if I have something exciting and romantic to tell you, but I don't. I was just listening to Elvis.

I've decided not to take any more pictures, at least for awhile. I want this blog to be about me and my thoughts, and I fear that if I post pictures to often, I'll just become a soft-porn star, and at the moment, I don't want it to be about the pictures.

What I really came on here to blog about, is how to tell whether someone is hitting on you or not. How can you tell? Unless it's a blatant, "so...come here often?" how are you supposed to tell? A girl at work claimed she was hit on today in the fiction section, and then my little sister claimed a boy tried to hit on her at Mc Donald's. How can they tell that they're being hit on and I can't? Or is it that they just think they're being hit on, where in actual fact they are just having a conversation? Or could it be that I never get hit on so I never know? And then, if you're hitting on someone, what are the rules? Goodness.

Open Your Eyes

I think everyone focuses on how the world's a terrible place too much. For once, why can't we just look around and see its beauty? Sure, the world's going to explode soon because we've destroyed it, but for now, let's appreciate it! There's so much in the world that people are blind to because they're too busy looking at the bad stuff, at the wars, at the destruction. If you look deeper into those bad things, I think you'll find that beauty can even be found there.

For once, can we open our eyes and appreciate what's in front of us? It's not all bad. Trust me, I've been looking. I see more good than bad. Yesterday at work, a mother came in with her little girl resting on her hip. Out of the blue, the little girl turned to face her mother and kissed her on the cheek. It was a beautiful moment of humanity, and those moments can happen any place, at any time. If you're ever feeling down with humanity, go to the arrivals gate and you will feel better again within ten minutes :)


On that note, I probably won't be posting for a bit because I have exams and dearly need to study.