I'm at sixty days until my wedding and I'm filling you in on the real feelings 1. Yes, you will want the traditional everything, yes, you will hate yourself for wanting that and then at one point, maybe many years later, you will think it was worth it. 2. You will be so so exhausted that there are points you will want to run away, not from your fiancé, you would probably bring him too, but the daily planning and appointments will get to you at a certain point. 3. It will not work out the way you want. You can dream of something and search and search and search to make that vision come true. It won't. But don't worry you will be so tired you won't care. 4. Another bride will make it look effortless. And you will hate her for it. 5. You will scoff at the newly engaged who are all excited and cheery. "Man, they have no idea what's ahead of them" and encourage very small destination weddings. 6. Booking the honeymoon is probably the best day of the whole wedding planning thing. All you can think of is laying in the sun. Wait till a couple months before the wedding to book it and give yourself something to look forward to. You and the wedding will not be on speaking terms by then. 7. You will feel guilty about everything. People spending money on you. Not being able to have a thousand bridesmaids. The distance people will have to drive. Guilt about everything. 8. You won't lose like 20 lbs before your day. Remember you are the rule, not the exception. You will probably just look like you do now, unless you're a stress eater and you might gain weight. 9. Matching colors is evil. You have to carry swatches everywhere...just pick black and white. Pure white. Not off-white or Michael Jackson White. Make life easier. 10.Your groom will have an opinion. Whether it's something small or big. You envision it one way and him another, who wins in the end...someone's mother, or grandmother or aunt or not you or him, so quit fighting about it. 11. You will realize how many people in one room don't get along when you make your seating chart 12. You wish you would have spent a little extra and splurged on a wedding planner 13. Being engaged for a year is for sheep. Either bust it out in six months or wait a couple of years and enjoy it. A year is the most inappropriate length of time to plan a wedding. 14. Standing on the altar for the first time before your wedding is the most exciting, terrifying, surreal moment you can ever imagine. 15. You won't have your nails done for most of your engagement. Ain't nobody got time for that. 16. All that wonderful time spent together before you get married will probably be spent at home because you can't afford to go out. 17. You will try on your wedding dress as many times as you can. Because you want to live in it. 18. You can plan everything down to the minute. Not everyone else lives on your schedule and that will drive you insane. 19. You will not have everyone come. Even those who mean the world to you and you completely understand, but emotionally heart tugging. Eventually, you will get over it and will be pleased at just inviting people who just make you laugh. 20. You will be ok giving up on things you thought were the most important things in the world six months before. 21. You won't be sure if you love anything at all by the end including your dress, your venue, your flowers. You won't be mad about it though either. Let's do this! 22. You will be part of a strange social media group of fellow financees that you probably haven't spoken to in years and they will make you feel like you are one of them and peaceful. 23. You will cry, freak out and be overly emotional 5,000 times before that day 24. You will be broke....sooo broke 25. You will hate/love/live every minute of it and know deep down that it will be your best day ever. Tornado, Hurricane, Snow Storm, you don't/won't care by the end! It will be the greatest day ever!
Growing up you have heard the word fiancé many times, however it us unknown until you have a "fiancé that you will learn to hate this word. I am beyond hate at this point, in fact I loathe the word and avoid using the term at all costs. You begin with boyfriend and end with a husband, so why is there this crazy pretencious french identifier in-between? I mean it even has a ostentacious "acute accent" (which your keyboard doesn't always recognize) above the "e". Even the way it's said, "Fee- ans- sayyyyyyyyyyyyy" sounds completely over-the-top, so why, why is this archaic term still in use?
Photo Credit: www.volleywood.net
Did you know that it even is spelled differently depending on which gender you are speaking about? You use Fiance' to introduce your male counterpart and Fiancee' for female? So not only do you have to use this foreign term to explain your current relationship status, but you also have to understand the French grammar behind it as well?
According to Merriam Dictionary the origin of fiancee is a "promise" or "trust", which seems like a feasible definition of the word, but why haven't we come up with something a little more practical and less patronizing? Seriously, just saying the term "fiancé" equates the same response as if you were bragging about your summer home in Vale.
Let's look at some (not all) other french words still used in common vernacular
'A La Mode, Adieu, Amateur, Ape'rtif, Attaché, Art Nouveau, Au Gratin, Au Jus, Baguette, Ballet, Bon Appe'tite, Bon Voyage, Bouquet, Brunette, Bureau, Cache, Cafe Au Lait, Carte Blanche, Chauffer, Clique, Conceirge, Cordon Bleu, Couture, Creme Brûlée, Crepe, Croissant, Decor, Decoupage, Cul De Sac, Demi-Glace, Eau De Toilette, Eclair, En Route, Entree, Excusez Moi, Extrodanaire, Facade, Faux, Flambe, Forte, Grand Prix, Hors D' Oeuvres , Liason, Marde Gras, Menage A Trois, Montage, Mousse, Omlette, Prarie, Protege, Rapport, Role, Sabotage, Saute, Triage, Venue, Voila.
With the exceptions of few, most of the words seem pretentious. For example:
"My fiancé brought me a bouquet of flowers while I sipped cafe au lait and devoured my sweet creme brûlée"at the corner patisserie. The decor of the cafe was art nouveau and smelled of fresh crepes, eclairs, baguettes and croissants. Perhaps later we will have a menage a trois with the brunette en route to dinner:
As you can see this is a pretty stuffy way of saying "my dude met me at Starbucks and brought me some Gerbers while I had coffee and a pastry. For desert we picked up a woman and had a threesome before heading to dinner".
winterous.deviantart.com
Ok, maybe that whole story was a stretch, but you can see that our most common french words sound a little grandiose. And with the word fiancé, it's not like you can get around it, perhaps you can say yes, my future husband, or even go old-skool and say my betrothed with a joking nudge, but basically you are stuck saying it, that awful word, for the duration of your engagement.
I had the pleasure of sitting next to another fiancee' and noticed that with little effort the word fiancé floated off her tongue as if she had been saying the word her entire life. She had no hesitation in saying it and even the delivery sounded much more American than French like the words toothbrush or stop light. She made it sound so easy, but it's not that easy for everyone.
When I say it, somehow it seems like I am making some sort of announcement, I will be meeting my FIANCE in a half an hour! My FIANCEEEEEE is right around the corner! At the same time my face squinches up and my voice rises into this weird pitchy tone because I am horrified that I have to utter the dreadful word once again. Then when the word finally comes out of my mouth, I internally shudder in shame and my face flushes in embarrassment as if I had just defecated in front of a crowd of strangers.
Perhaps you have seen those "Pretty Girls Making Ugly Faces" photos which have been circling the web. Did you know they are not making the ugly faces on purpose, they are simply trying to say the word fiancé?
All I can think is that I still have months of fiancé introductions before I can finally lay this awful word to rest. In the meantime, I will practice whispering the phrase fiancé and mumbling it under my breath in order to draw as little attention as possible.
Where my hatred of the word began….
Written by Mandi Bridgeman
Don't forget to like, share, subscribe and comment!
Every woman has heard it, "Honey let's go camping"…Some women awkwardly laugh like it is a terrible joke, some simply make a small grunting noise and ignore their partner completely and others for some odd reason start excitedly packing the minute they hear it. When my fiancé Chris asked me I personally went through all the stages of grieving. First, I was in denial, he's not really serious is he? He is not really suggesting I spend my weekend in a tent on the ground, in the mud, is he? A tent which is susceptible to bear penetration.
Anger and Bargaining
Ok, so I really didn't get angry. I probably skipped the whole anger stage and went directly into bargaining. Wouldn't you rather go to a comedy show and dinner? How about a big steak dinner? A huge steak dinner…I'll buy. What about we go in a few weeks? It might rain, we should wait to go. Luke Bryan is in town? You love Luke Bryan. We should go see him INSTEAD.
Very soon after my bargaining skills failed I hit stage four….Depression. It's really happening. I'm going camping. How did this happen? Isn't there someone I can call? I feel so trapped and alone. Why? WHY?!
Which eventually led to acceptance, although I did revert to bargaining again just before giving in.
I packed quickly the morning of the trip throwing random stuff from around the house in a bag. I left behind my …gasp...makeup (which I put on everyday whether or not I leave the house because it makes me feel more put together). I left behind my expensive shampoos, my hairspray, lotions, potions and spells, my blowdryer and my sundresses. Sigh…my coffee maker, air conditioning, my vehicle, my dog and cat, my computer and all of the other things that I hold dear to my heart and headed off into the wilderness.
The drive through the county to Parker Dam was beautiful with puffy white clouds hanging like overstuffed pillows over pristine farms and rolling mountains. The clouds looked exactly like the overstuffed pillows that I, ironically, was leaving behind.
We rolled into a pretty little campground full of happy campers doing happy camping things, in their happy camping clothes and I was optimistic. I even began thinking I should have brought my Brownies sash because I would be rolling in new outdoor achievement patches by the end of the weekend.
So, you pay a fee to rent the "area", which consists of a grassy patch that comes with a complimentary fire pit and a picnic table. Amenities also include large jutting rocks and roots, poison ivy, stinging and crawling bugs, wild rabid animals and of course extra mud for the ladies.
The Spot
After setting up it was time to fish! Now, I actually fished quite a bit when I young, so this part was really exciting to me. That was until we had to find "the spot". Now the park was situated adjacent to a very large lake funneled in from a nearby creek, so I thought "the spot" would be rather easy to find. We started by circling the lake and parking by the beach area. "This was not the spot". Then we drove to where the boat ramp area was. "This was not the spot". Then we parked and walked through the woods along the edge of the creek in tall snake filled grass, only to realize this "WAS NOT THE SPOT" and we had to turn around and head back. Walking back out of the woods we determined that the mouth of the lake was also "NOT THE SPOT!!!!!". Finally after two hours, we walked back to the truck and I said there was a trail at the top of the hill and determined "that was the spot" basically because I was not going to look for another one.
Here I am at the "spot", finally
At the spot we set up our fishing zone. We picked up fishing licenses, so I was determined to catch a trout, however all I caught was a bluegill by the eye. I didn't have a picture, so the one below is an exact replica of the fish that I caught.
Yup, totally the same size
After a couple hours of fishing and snagging another bluegill it was time to head back to camp to cook up some yummy food. Chris was sweet enough to bring me healthy veggie and meat shish kabobs because I had been putting so much time and effort into my diet. We mistakenly forgot to bring tongs, so we had to figure out a makeshift way of removing the food from the super-hot flame-licked grill. Now this is where men and women differ. I chose to use a pair of scissors. Easy, simple and effective. Chris, however, decided on two pieces of sliced wood. Was it more effective then the scissors? No, but I saw that he chose it because it made him more of "mountain man". I said nothing and just sat bemused at his primal wilderness tactics.
Literally, the look on his face…
After dinner and a couple drinks, I was able to get him to slow dance under the stars. One of my favorite memories of the night. Afterwards, he brought me to the outdoor amphitheater to stargaze. It was probably no more then a quarter mile into the woods, however he did not want me to use my flashlight because he wanted my eyes to adjust to the darkness to see the stars better.
Here is how I felt at that moment.
Needless to say, I made it safely down the dark woodsy path (after insisting on using my flashlight). He chose this particular campground because it was in one of the darkest spots in Pennsylvania which meant we could see even more stars then normal. We laid a blanket down on the ground and pointed out stars, satellites, planets, jets and constellations. I was also delighted to see four shooting stars. It was truly the most stars I have ever seen in one place. That was definitely my favorite moments of the weekend…that was until he pointed out an odd glowing red light in the woods which he claimed was Sasquatch …yep, time to go back to camp.
I slept fairly well overnight with no crazy bears, raccoons or other rabid animals disturbing my slumber, but I awoke the next morning to this in my face. Now, in reality this darling Daddy Long Legs would do me no harm, however it was magnified because of it's close proximity to my eye causing me to gasp out loud and frantically kick and jump to get away from it. Oh….camping….and all of its perks.
A few hours after the spidey scare I was ready to fish again. Crawling back down to the now designated "spot", we were surprised to see that at 9:30am we were the only ones fishing. Once again this spot, turned out to not be "the spot", so we decided to travel to a new lake altogether, so we packed up and wished Parker Dam a fond farewell. First, we tried Treasure Lake only to find out it was more like a weird Stepford wives private community in the middle of nowhere than a great fishing spot. After that, we tried Kyle Lake, however our GPS continuously told us to turn around while passing the lake on 79 in both directions, so after off-roading on some country path we gave up and decided to drive to the ever-familiar Moraine State Park.
ahhhhhhh…my heaven
Did I mention, I love boats and water! I have no complaints about our three hours on the boat, except when we illegally jumped into the water and I badly bruised my foot trying to get back into the boat sans ladder. It was so hot though it was worth it. I caught two more bluegill, tried once again to catch a trout, practiced using a crank bait, wore flip flops, a bathing suit and got a nice tan, I was in heaven. We finished up with blue Slushies and headed home, but the camping didn't stop there! After watching the U.S. vs Portugal he cooked me Turkey Hot Dogs and made stovetop s'mores! A great end to a pretty great weekend.
Boat time with my beau!
All and all, I …ahem…had a pretty good time, but don't tell him that because then he will want to take me more often then I would like. Would I consider myself a camping fanatic? Absolutely not. Would I go again? Perhaps in a month or…so…. I need to go through the grieving process all over again. The moral of the story it: You gotta do what you gotta do for the one you love…all so you can get a fancy dinner once and awhile.
