Isn’t that a Spice Girls song? Or am I getting confused with “Who do you think you are?” Kind of opposite my intended meaning, however had I actually said my post title out loud, I’m sure the receiver would have been quoting the Spice Girls.
Every so often, not too much thankfully (because to say the above would mean I’m in a not-very-good-situation) but I’ve had the feeling of wanting to say something along the lines of that.
In particular in relation to my job, if I’ve felt I was going to get unwelcome, in particular unfair trouble/treatment for whatever reason, I’ve had the strongest inclination to say “Do you know where I work?”
It’s something that naturally comes with working where I work, at a particular ‘influential’ media company, with ‘influential’ media contacts, and lots of other people I work with, have both admitted to thinking/doing the same, and encouraging the same. If you have it, you gotta use it, true?
Although I’m not one to take advantage of, guilt people into, or blackmail others into certain ‘desirable’ outcomes for myself, like I said, only when I felt I was getting inappropriate treatment did this thought cross my mind. Never have I used it.
A couple of weeks ago, something happened, that rather than make me want to say “Do you know where I work?” made me want to say something that only the biggest nose-in-the-air stuck-up celebs would say. I was soooo close.
I’d made my hair cut appointment over a month before the busy/crazy festive month. I’m never this early or organised with my hair, only just getting in before Christmas each year, but this time I was there at the hairdressers for a hair cut in October, and I thought “why not? I’ll be organised.”
So I made it.
Then something/someone broke my windscreen. I don’t know who/what it was, whether it was intentional or not, but one morning I got into my car, and there was a crack in the top right, and it proceeded to get longer and extend to the middle of the window over the next couple of days.
I initially freaked out. I thought the windscreen would shatter and cave in on me at any point in my driving. I was yet to find out that I could drive like that for 3 years (not that I wanted to), and in my freaked out state I had to IMMEDIATELY get it fixed.
The only day the guy could fix it, was a day I felt I already had an appointment. But I made the windscreen appointment anyway.
I called up my hairdresser’s, hoping whoever answered wouldn’t tell me what I already suspected. Yes I’d made the appointment so many months earlier, only I hadn’t been organised enough to write down the date. When I found out that the time of the hair cut coincided with the windscreen getting fixed, well I felt I had to cancel my hair cut appointment – I felt it was a matter of safety.
A bit disappointed, I informed the girl that I had to cancel, and asked her what other times I could see my usual hairdresser.
No times. Not that week or the one other.
I took a deep breath, and asked about getting my hair cut by the owner. He’s cut my hair a few times, and he actually knows me really well. I’ve been going there for so long, and he’s always really polite and friendly to me, and treats me almost like we’re friends. On several occasions he’s even bent over backwards to get me in, because I’m such a loyal customer.
No free times for him either. Not that week or the one other.
And then they were on leave ‘til end of Jan. END OF ‘JAN.
I was quite upset, and mad, but asked to get my name and number down so they could call me if there was a cancellation. Surely there’d be a cancellation.
In the meantime, the windscreen man cancelled on me, 10 minutes late into the time he was meant to come and fix it. I told him not to worry about coming another time, and then screamed the house down when I hung up. I was having a bad week.
At about the same time I got a voicemail message from the hairdresser owner, telling me someone had cancelled. I was really excited calling back, until I realised the date he’d given was actually a date I was already booked with something else. I wasn’t going to cancel my work Christmas party for a haircut, no matter how much my split ends needed to be removed.
I asked to speak to him – it was the same girl who told me there were no bookings available the first time around – and when she asked why, I explained he’d left a message for me. She returned in less than 10 seconds, informing me he’d made a mistake and hadn’t seen the message that I actually couldn’t come in on the day he suggested. I knew that, I just wanted to talk to him and get him to help me! I knew, I felt, that if he actually spoke to me, HE would squeeze me in, because HE knew how important I was. “Do you know who I am? How long I’ve been going there?” I wanted to scream into the phone. But I didn’t scream it. I tried to remain calm.
I was soooo mad. I devised a plan to ‘swing by’ the salon after work the following week, even if they hadn’t called me, just so I could see him ‘in person’ and make a ‘booking’ for the following YEAR.
When I came in, perhaps right near their closing time, I found:
Owner
Woman with child (child appeared to be getting hair cut), &
Said women from phone with her hair in foils.
AHEM. IN FOILS.
So it appeared that two people were working, and only one was paying. They couldn’t fucking get me in, a loyal customer, for a simple haircut, but they could put foils in the hair of a non-paying employee. I was soooo shitty.
Owner seemed to be aware they’d been trying to get me in though. That’s what I found surprising. He asked when I was coming in next, and I said with some bite ‘next year.’ I couldn’t follow through though, and still said a nice goodbye and ‘Merry Christmas’ – but really thinking of the scenario there over and over, I felt they could have treated me better, and at least tried. Considering it was their last week of Christmas trading hours, they didn’t look busy AT ALL.
Maybe owner didn’t know I had previously booked, and had to cancel due to what I temporarily though was a safety emergency – I certainly didn’t tell the girl, but she knew I’d booked months earlier, I told her that much.
Maybe I should have asked to speak to said owner from the start, in order to avoid all these ‘what if’s’ and urgencies to scream “Do you know who I am?” through the phone receiver. Maybe he would have helped me out more. She doesn’t know who I am, after all.
However, it didn’t appear I was anyone, from the moderate, average treatment I got when I walked into the salon unexpectedly that day… from the lack of treatment I received.
I’m booked in with him in late Jan. On the first day they come back. Gosh I hope he comments on my split ends. I intend on making him feel soooooo guilty.
Because clearly he’s forgotten who I am.
Showing posts with label Hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hair. Show all posts
Friday, December 28, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Imitation is the sincerest form of Insult
I need to get this out so that I can try to move on. In true OCD form I've been completely obsessing over it, and I can't take it anymore.
Let's play the hypothetical game again, with not so hypothetical people, and a not at all hypothetical situation.
Let's say, I have some really nice kitchen items. To make this game easier, I'll say I have a beautiful fruit bowl, with matching salt and pepper shakers that sit beside it. It took me ages to find something this beautiful, unique and original in the modern style Hubbie and I were going for in the kitchen (remember, hypothetical!) So when we got it and put it in there a couple of months ago, we were like "Ahhhh." Looks good.
Now, about a month ago we had Mouth over with another couple. During the course of the visit, after she had been to my kitchen, she commented to me "oh, I like your fruit bowl, and the salt and pepper shakers. Really nice. Where did you get it?"
I was probably slightly thrown by the fact that she never really notices anything or anyone but herself, and it seemed she was giving me a genuine compliment for my kitchen things. I said quite casually "oh, from blah and blah."
I didn't think much of it. I later heard from Hubbie that the other couple who were over, well the woman expressed how much she really liked my kitchen things, and added "they're from blah and blah, yeah?"
When Hubbie told me this I was like "no! She can't get the same things as us!" But the knowledge that the shopping centre we got it from wasn't exactly local, kept me secure in the fact that she wouldn't go there by herself and get them. She could just safely admire them from a dsitance whenever she was at our house.
So I forgot about it.
Just recently, we found ourselves at this woman's house. Mouth was there also, and some other people. A couple of hours into it, Hubbie whispers to me "have you been to the kitchen?"
He has a weird look on his face. "What?" I ask, confused.
"She bought the things." He's smiling but I can see his expression is really wary, judging me and how I'm going to react. My mouth drops open as I realise what he's talking about. I'm gaping.
"Don't overreact. Don't make a scene."
I get up immediately and march to the kitchen. My heart drops when I get there, when I see MY fruit browl and matching salt and pepper shakers.
I am in absolute shock. She bloody went there. She went to the shopping centre, to the exact same shop and bought the same bloody things as me. And now her kitchen looks like mine.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I am completely deflated. Dismayed, upset, devastated, shocked. Hubbie reads my face as I come and sit back down. "Don't jump, you don't know the full story. Don't be upset, ok?" I'm wondering at his words, wondering what the hell extra there is to know that would make this situation better for me, but I try to push it out of my mind, not wanting to appear obvious.
Not too long after that, I'm talking to Mouth. And somehow, in conversation, she says "so last weekend I went to blah shopping centre with woman, to get those things at blah shop, you know your kitchen things?"
All the pieces are falling into place. But it's actually getting worse for me.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, we went and bought them."
The word we I'm having an especially hard time with. It's sticking out like a sore thumb in a sentence of fingers.
"You went and bought the exact same things?" My tone is dead, expressionless. I'm numb with shock.
"Yeah." Her response is almost questioning. As if she's trying to work out what my take is on all of it.
She goes on and on as my heart sinks deeper.
"They have good priced forks there, you know," she waffles on. (hypothetical forks!)
"Yeah," I say flatly. "That's why I like it there. I like to get good, different things that arent the same as everyone else."
There's a distinct pause. I can hear her thinking. Then, because she's a fucking tool, she continues unaffected.
Phew. I need to calm down.
Perhaps I need to give you a little back story, so you can understand my strong aversion to copying.
Growing up, I had a friend, let's simply call her copy-cat. Enough said, right? In primary school she would read off my work, and when I'd catch her I'd yell out "stop copying!" She would say back angrily "I'm not copying!" And yet she would still do it, peering over my arm which I tried to protectively cover my work with.
All my friends knew. When she was near them she would try to copy their work too. But because my regular seat was next to her, I got the brunt of it.
Copy-cat and I went to the same high school. Here, I didn't have as many classes with her, but the rest of my friends there soon found out how she was, and again she was accused of copying. The annyoing thing with her was that she would copy you, and then make her work better. That was the aggravating thing. That and obviously denying that she was even plagiarising our work.
It was easier for me in high school, knowing my friends there could see what I could see. But then as I thought I lost her annoying habit, I gained the same habit in someone else. My cousins Legs and Hair.
Now I absolutely love them to pieces, I really do. But there was a time when I was growing up, and them being younger than me and looking up to me of course, that they would imitate me. They liked the things I liked. They dressed like me. And on and on. At one stage one of them confided to me that their own grandmother said to them "You should be more like Miss S." Although I was only 14 at the time, I lost it when I heard this. "Screw her! Don't be like me, or anybody else, be your own person!"
And they did, and I'm so proud of my adopted sisters for what they have grown into.
But what I'm trying to show here is that I had a lot of copying of me over the years, copying that scarred me, and that has made me want to be completely original, different and unlike anybody else. The more people copied me, the more I shied away and tried to be even more original and unique.
So that, on top of the fact that I have to mentally imagine kicking Mouth like a football far off into the distance just to get her annoyingness out of my head, has got me so unbelievably pissed off that you can't imagine.
I can't believe, that she went and bought the exact same things as me. She not only went into the same shop (which is fine) but she bought the exact same things! Has she no shame? Is she not embarrassed, does she not feel pathetic? I would be completely ashamed of buying the exact same thing as someone else, and then have them come into my house and see that I've copied them. How shameful! Shame, shame, shame.
The reason I'm not having a go at the other woman - though I am still upset! - is because Hubbie said to me not to be. She's older, and she looks at other people for home ideas. She doesn't know. I exhaled loudly when I heard this. I'm still exhaling. I wanna do it for him, but it's not easy. I would do anything for him though.
But Mouth. Mouth is younger than the woman. She's older than us. (Another shameful thing, copying people younger than you) She should know better. When the woman called Mouth and said "I want to get the same things as Miss S," Mouth should have said "No, that's embarrassing, we'll go and get something different."
Mouth, the same Mouth who would have a go at someone for copying her. The same mouth who only ever praises or talks about herself. The same mouth who never gives anyone recognition. Do you think when guests comment on her kitchen things that she's going to be honest and say "I copied Miss S' style"? No! No she won't because she is a narcissist!
Argh! I'm so furious. I can't take it. The saying about imitation being flattery, is a load of bullshit. It's not flattery for someone whose suffered the effects of people trying to steal her style for only HER ENTIRE LIFE.
It absolutely boils me to my core. Do not copy me! Especially you, Mouth! I can't stand it, I'm absolutely fuming with anger.
Hubbie and I don't have the biggest house. But with what we have, we try to make the best of it, and put really fine touches to our house to make it unique. We buy quality items, interesting pieces, and all the furnishings show attention to detail and careful planning. Both Mouth and woman have big, new houses. Do they have to take the one thing I have, my style? Do they want that too? What else do they want from me, my life?
Leave me with the one thing I have, please. Leave me that. But no, they had to take it. SHE had to take it.
These obsessive fiery thoughts would not stop going around and around in my head yesterday. I had to talk to Sis. She is awesome, she is so awesome that my next post will be about her, to counteract the angst that is Mouth and everything about her that I despise.
Sis helped me. She tried to get me to see it in a different light. She suggested the conclusions that Hubbie and I had already come to: that we don't tell them where we buy our things in the future - we be vague if ever asked; and that this whole situation was a lesson learnt for the future. She didn't see it in the way I did, because she says she's had a friend copy her thing, and she's even copied another friend for something. But see, it's the way you go about it. My sister is very honest, and would admit to the person how much she loved it and that she was intending to buy one for herself. Mouth however is sneaky. She gives me praise - just enough - but not so much that I thought she really liked it. Then she organised a shopping day with woman, they went off and bought it without a mention of it to Hubbie and I. When it was too late, it was all bought and done.
Hubbie agrees. He's not so hung up on it as I am, but when I asked him, he admitted "I'm spewing." He didn't have to have someone copy him his whole life to make him want to be original and have different things. It's so annoying.
You know what else? We have this other 'kitchen item' a 'coffee machine' (not really, still hypothetical!) that she's asked us about, and I've said that we've bought it in a far-off region. She also knows that some of our other home furnishings are from that 'far-off region.' Guess where Mouth and her family went a couple of weeks ago? To the far-off region! What, you need another coffee machine? Get your own fucking style you leeches!
Geez, do they want to copy our whole house? The thing that peeves me off, is as I said in reference to my Sis, they're not honest. Admit you like it. Say it out loud and MEAN IT. Unlike them, who often snub their noses at things we've seen, things we've bought, and things we've done (like going to the far-off region) and then they explode with fireworks and expect you to shower them with attention when THEY GO!
I know, I know. Narcissists, in every sense of the word.
We're actually going to find a whole new, different, unique and original fruit bowl with matching salt and pepper shakers. In a couple of months we're going to a similar far-off region, and I'm going to go into as many shops there as I can, and find something bigger and better. (See how we have to buy something different because of other, annoying people?)
And THEN when they say "oh, you have different ones?!"
I'M going to say "yes, I like to have truly original pieces unlike anything anyone else has."
And I hope that that boils her and makes her feel PATHETIC. Copy cat.
What I hope for most? That after this realisation I make her come to (and I will) that she will always see my face in her fruit bowl and salt and pepper shakers. Forever.
And I hope she can live with herself for that. Because denial doesn't ever change the fact.
Let's play the hypothetical game again, with not so hypothetical people, and a not at all hypothetical situation.
Let's say, I have some really nice kitchen items. To make this game easier, I'll say I have a beautiful fruit bowl, with matching salt and pepper shakers that sit beside it. It took me ages to find something this beautiful, unique and original in the modern style Hubbie and I were going for in the kitchen (remember, hypothetical!) So when we got it and put it in there a couple of months ago, we were like "Ahhhh." Looks good.
Now, about a month ago we had Mouth over with another couple. During the course of the visit, after she had been to my kitchen, she commented to me "oh, I like your fruit bowl, and the salt and pepper shakers. Really nice. Where did you get it?"
I was probably slightly thrown by the fact that she never really notices anything or anyone but herself, and it seemed she was giving me a genuine compliment for my kitchen things. I said quite casually "oh, from blah and blah."
I didn't think much of it. I later heard from Hubbie that the other couple who were over, well the woman expressed how much she really liked my kitchen things, and added "they're from blah and blah, yeah?"
When Hubbie told me this I was like "no! She can't get the same things as us!" But the knowledge that the shopping centre we got it from wasn't exactly local, kept me secure in the fact that she wouldn't go there by herself and get them. She could just safely admire them from a dsitance whenever she was at our house.
So I forgot about it.
Just recently, we found ourselves at this woman's house. Mouth was there also, and some other people. A couple of hours into it, Hubbie whispers to me "have you been to the kitchen?"
He has a weird look on his face. "What?" I ask, confused.
"She bought the things." He's smiling but I can see his expression is really wary, judging me and how I'm going to react. My mouth drops open as I realise what he's talking about. I'm gaping.
"Don't overreact. Don't make a scene."
I get up immediately and march to the kitchen. My heart drops when I get there, when I see MY fruit browl and matching salt and pepper shakers.
I am in absolute shock. She bloody went there. She went to the shopping centre, to the exact same shop and bought the same bloody things as me. And now her kitchen looks like mine.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
I am completely deflated. Dismayed, upset, devastated, shocked. Hubbie reads my face as I come and sit back down. "Don't jump, you don't know the full story. Don't be upset, ok?" I'm wondering at his words, wondering what the hell extra there is to know that would make this situation better for me, but I try to push it out of my mind, not wanting to appear obvious.
Not too long after that, I'm talking to Mouth. And somehow, in conversation, she says "so last weekend I went to blah shopping centre with woman, to get those things at blah shop, you know your kitchen things?"
All the pieces are falling into place. But it's actually getting worse for me.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, we went and bought them."
The word we I'm having an especially hard time with. It's sticking out like a sore thumb in a sentence of fingers.
"You went and bought the exact same things?" My tone is dead, expressionless. I'm numb with shock.
"Yeah." Her response is almost questioning. As if she's trying to work out what my take is on all of it.
She goes on and on as my heart sinks deeper.
"They have good priced forks there, you know," she waffles on. (hypothetical forks!)
"Yeah," I say flatly. "That's why I like it there. I like to get good, different things that arent the same as everyone else."
There's a distinct pause. I can hear her thinking. Then, because she's a fucking tool, she continues unaffected.
Phew. I need to calm down.
Perhaps I need to give you a little back story, so you can understand my strong aversion to copying.
Growing up, I had a friend, let's simply call her copy-cat. Enough said, right? In primary school she would read off my work, and when I'd catch her I'd yell out "stop copying!" She would say back angrily "I'm not copying!" And yet she would still do it, peering over my arm which I tried to protectively cover my work with.
All my friends knew. When she was near them she would try to copy their work too. But because my regular seat was next to her, I got the brunt of it.
Copy-cat and I went to the same high school. Here, I didn't have as many classes with her, but the rest of my friends there soon found out how she was, and again she was accused of copying. The annyoing thing with her was that she would copy you, and then make her work better. That was the aggravating thing. That and obviously denying that she was even plagiarising our work.
It was easier for me in high school, knowing my friends there could see what I could see. But then as I thought I lost her annoying habit, I gained the same habit in someone else. My cousins Legs and Hair.
Now I absolutely love them to pieces, I really do. But there was a time when I was growing up, and them being younger than me and looking up to me of course, that they would imitate me. They liked the things I liked. They dressed like me. And on and on. At one stage one of them confided to me that their own grandmother said to them "You should be more like Miss S." Although I was only 14 at the time, I lost it when I heard this. "Screw her! Don't be like me, or anybody else, be your own person!"
And they did, and I'm so proud of my adopted sisters for what they have grown into.
But what I'm trying to show here is that I had a lot of copying of me over the years, copying that scarred me, and that has made me want to be completely original, different and unlike anybody else. The more people copied me, the more I shied away and tried to be even more original and unique.
So that, on top of the fact that I have to mentally imagine kicking Mouth like a football far off into the distance just to get her annoyingness out of my head, has got me so unbelievably pissed off that you can't imagine.
I can't believe, that she went and bought the exact same things as me. She not only went into the same shop (which is fine) but she bought the exact same things! Has she no shame? Is she not embarrassed, does she not feel pathetic? I would be completely ashamed of buying the exact same thing as someone else, and then have them come into my house and see that I've copied them. How shameful! Shame, shame, shame.
The reason I'm not having a go at the other woman - though I am still upset! - is because Hubbie said to me not to be. She's older, and she looks at other people for home ideas. She doesn't know. I exhaled loudly when I heard this. I'm still exhaling. I wanna do it for him, but it's not easy. I would do anything for him though.
But Mouth. Mouth is younger than the woman. She's older than us. (Another shameful thing, copying people younger than you) She should know better. When the woman called Mouth and said "I want to get the same things as Miss S," Mouth should have said "No, that's embarrassing, we'll go and get something different."
Mouth, the same Mouth who would have a go at someone for copying her. The same mouth who only ever praises or talks about herself. The same mouth who never gives anyone recognition. Do you think when guests comment on her kitchen things that she's going to be honest and say "I copied Miss S' style"? No! No she won't because she is a narcissist!
Argh! I'm so furious. I can't take it. The saying about imitation being flattery, is a load of bullshit. It's not flattery for someone whose suffered the effects of people trying to steal her style for only HER ENTIRE LIFE.
It absolutely boils me to my core. Do not copy me! Especially you, Mouth! I can't stand it, I'm absolutely fuming with anger.
Hubbie and I don't have the biggest house. But with what we have, we try to make the best of it, and put really fine touches to our house to make it unique. We buy quality items, interesting pieces, and all the furnishings show attention to detail and careful planning. Both Mouth and woman have big, new houses. Do they have to take the one thing I have, my style? Do they want that too? What else do they want from me, my life?
Leave me with the one thing I have, please. Leave me that. But no, they had to take it. SHE had to take it.
These obsessive fiery thoughts would not stop going around and around in my head yesterday. I had to talk to Sis. She is awesome, she is so awesome that my next post will be about her, to counteract the angst that is Mouth and everything about her that I despise.
Sis helped me. She tried to get me to see it in a different light. She suggested the conclusions that Hubbie and I had already come to: that we don't tell them where we buy our things in the future - we be vague if ever asked; and that this whole situation was a lesson learnt for the future. She didn't see it in the way I did, because she says she's had a friend copy her thing, and she's even copied another friend for something. But see, it's the way you go about it. My sister is very honest, and would admit to the person how much she loved it and that she was intending to buy one for herself. Mouth however is sneaky. She gives me praise - just enough - but not so much that I thought she really liked it. Then she organised a shopping day with woman, they went off and bought it without a mention of it to Hubbie and I. When it was too late, it was all bought and done.
Hubbie agrees. He's not so hung up on it as I am, but when I asked him, he admitted "I'm spewing." He didn't have to have someone copy him his whole life to make him want to be original and have different things. It's so annoying.
You know what else? We have this other 'kitchen item' a 'coffee machine' (not really, still hypothetical!) that she's asked us about, and I've said that we've bought it in a far-off region. She also knows that some of our other home furnishings are from that 'far-off region.' Guess where Mouth and her family went a couple of weeks ago? To the far-off region! What, you need another coffee machine? Get your own fucking style you leeches!
Geez, do they want to copy our whole house? The thing that peeves me off, is as I said in reference to my Sis, they're not honest. Admit you like it. Say it out loud and MEAN IT. Unlike them, who often snub their noses at things we've seen, things we've bought, and things we've done (like going to the far-off region) and then they explode with fireworks and expect you to shower them with attention when THEY GO!
I know, I know. Narcissists, in every sense of the word.
We're actually going to find a whole new, different, unique and original fruit bowl with matching salt and pepper shakers. In a couple of months we're going to a similar far-off region, and I'm going to go into as many shops there as I can, and find something bigger and better. (See how we have to buy something different because of other, annoying people?)
And THEN when they say "oh, you have different ones?!"
I'M going to say "yes, I like to have truly original pieces unlike anything anyone else has."
And I hope that that boils her and makes her feel PATHETIC. Copy cat.
What I hope for most? That after this realisation I make her come to (and I will) that she will always see my face in her fruit bowl and salt and pepper shakers. Forever.
And I hope she can live with herself for that. Because denial doesn't ever change the fact.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
It's the Thought that Counts
I had a weird dream last night. Yes, you may say, another odd dream, what's new? Especially given the content of my most recent blogs. But I guess the content made it weird, I just don't get it.
So in the dream, my cousin Legs, who is currently planning her own matrimonial mayhems, was there with her sister. We'll call her Hair, if we haven't already given her a name. Hair says to me in the dream, in front of her sister Legs, and in front of their listening Mum (intimidating much?!) "can Legs borrow your wedding dress for her wedding, she's finding it so hard to find her own."
The operative words in this sentence are borrow your wedding dress and my reaction in the dream, is as you'd expect, quite similar to one I'd have in real life.
Unhappy and sad. I want my wedding dress to remain as my wedding dress, not someone else's! If anything, if anyone could wear my wedding dress, it would be my daughter if that situation ever arose and she wanted to. I think I even thought that in my dream. Also, I felt pressured in the dream, especially in front of Legs and Hair's mum, which is why in my dream I reluctantly agreed, although it was almost like a "I don't think it will work" agreement which was construed by them as a "she's coming around."
So I ended up bringing out my wedding dress, and it looked different to what it is in real life, it had shades of brown on it or something. And then, thankfully, luckily, the dress didn't fit on her. And here's the weird part again: it wasn't Legs trying on my dress for her wedding, it was her sister, Hair, who isn't getting married.... hmmmm or is she? Hair had actually reverted to her childhood self in the part where she tried on my dress in the dream, which is even more trippy.
I've been too busy recovering from being sick lately that I can't even be bothered trying to work out this dream and what it could mean. However, the dream did remind me of some closure I could provide regarding another matter concerning Legs and her upcoming nuptials, in the form of bridesmaid-ery.......
Yes, the matter of Legs asking me to be bridesmaid whilst under the influence and being highly emotional, and then pretending it never happened. That hilariously ridiculous matter is what I am speaking of.
I saw her a few months ago I think, at a family gathering, and we got to talking about her wedding, her wedding plans, what she had organised, and all things wedding related. I love talking about all that, having been through it, but also I love being able to help others going through the same process, as I know there is so much involved, and so much to think of that you could easily miss.
I had never planned to outright ask her who her bridesmaids were; I didn't want to put her on the spot and make her feel bad, make her feel like she had to explain herself to me. But I did want to put her at ease, regarding wedding talk with me, and I can't deny, I was curious about who her bridesmaids were, especially if one of them was my other cousin Fake, and whether Fake had managed to worm her way into the bridal party.
I think in asking her about her bridesmaid dresses, that's when she told me; it was almost like she breathed in, mentally braced herself and allowed herself to speak, and then she told me - I think she was a little nervous.
So she revealed her 3: her sister Hair (no surprise there) her best friend (again, good choice), and then.......
our cousin......... our much younger 14 year old, very sweet cousin.
I smiled and said, very sincerely "you've made some really good bridesmaid choices." And I meant it. I think I also commented on the fact that it was good they were all young, stressing the young part, as Fake is the older cousin, who at that other party ages ago, was pathetically trying to include herself in the bridal party without invitation.
So it is all good. I let her know she made a good choice with her selections, because honestly, I don't want her to feel weird about what happened, the invite, the unofficial un-invite and what-not. I'm happy for her. And I'm just happy knowing what I know: in her moment of not-thinking, of being relaxed, giddy and happy in her time of celebration, with no hesitation and totally uninhibited, she turned to me and said:
"Miss S, I want you to be my bridesmaid."
And that is enough. :)
So in the dream, my cousin Legs, who is currently planning her own matrimonial mayhems, was there with her sister. We'll call her Hair, if we haven't already given her a name. Hair says to me in the dream, in front of her sister Legs, and in front of their listening Mum (intimidating much?!) "can Legs borrow your wedding dress for her wedding, she's finding it so hard to find her own."
The operative words in this sentence are borrow your wedding dress and my reaction in the dream, is as you'd expect, quite similar to one I'd have in real life.
Unhappy and sad. I want my wedding dress to remain as my wedding dress, not someone else's! If anything, if anyone could wear my wedding dress, it would be my daughter if that situation ever arose and she wanted to. I think I even thought that in my dream. Also, I felt pressured in the dream, especially in front of Legs and Hair's mum, which is why in my dream I reluctantly agreed, although it was almost like a "I don't think it will work" agreement which was construed by them as a "she's coming around."
So I ended up bringing out my wedding dress, and it looked different to what it is in real life, it had shades of brown on it or something. And then, thankfully, luckily, the dress didn't fit on her. And here's the weird part again: it wasn't Legs trying on my dress for her wedding, it was her sister, Hair, who isn't getting married.... hmmmm or is she? Hair had actually reverted to her childhood self in the part where she tried on my dress in the dream, which is even more trippy.
I've been too busy recovering from being sick lately that I can't even be bothered trying to work out this dream and what it could mean. However, the dream did remind me of some closure I could provide regarding another matter concerning Legs and her upcoming nuptials, in the form of bridesmaid-ery.......
Yes, the matter of Legs asking me to be bridesmaid whilst under the influence and being highly emotional, and then pretending it never happened. That hilariously ridiculous matter is what I am speaking of.
I saw her a few months ago I think, at a family gathering, and we got to talking about her wedding, her wedding plans, what she had organised, and all things wedding related. I love talking about all that, having been through it, but also I love being able to help others going through the same process, as I know there is so much involved, and so much to think of that you could easily miss.
I had never planned to outright ask her who her bridesmaids were; I didn't want to put her on the spot and make her feel bad, make her feel like she had to explain herself to me. But I did want to put her at ease, regarding wedding talk with me, and I can't deny, I was curious about who her bridesmaids were, especially if one of them was my other cousin Fake, and whether Fake had managed to worm her way into the bridal party.
I think in asking her about her bridesmaid dresses, that's when she told me; it was almost like she breathed in, mentally braced herself and allowed herself to speak, and then she told me - I think she was a little nervous.
So she revealed her 3: her sister Hair (no surprise there) her best friend (again, good choice), and then.......
our cousin......... our much younger 14 year old, very sweet cousin.
I smiled and said, very sincerely "you've made some really good bridesmaid choices." And I meant it. I think I also commented on the fact that it was good they were all young, stressing the young part, as Fake is the older cousin, who at that other party ages ago, was pathetically trying to include herself in the bridal party without invitation.
So it is all good. I let her know she made a good choice with her selections, because honestly, I don't want her to feel weird about what happened, the invite, the unofficial un-invite and what-not. I'm happy for her. And I'm just happy knowing what I know: in her moment of not-thinking, of being relaxed, giddy and happy in her time of celebration, with no hesitation and totally uninhibited, she turned to me and said:
"Miss S, I want you to be my bridesmaid."
And that is enough. :)
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