It’s not me Lulu, It’s you

Dear Lululemon:

I will never forget buying my first pair of your pants. It was during a trip to Toronto to see the Spice Girls reunion tour in 2008.

I was incredibly impressed by your store and the service your staff provided. I was absolutely in love with my first-ever pair of black groove pants with a pink band around the top – just a touch of girliness which I felt helped me show off a glimmer of my personality while wearing your magical pants.

As time passed and my travels to large cities continued, my Lululemon pant collection continued to grow. You can only imagine my sheer delight when you opened your first and only store in my home town of Halifax on my 20th birthday.

Yes Lulu, somehow I have always just felt that your pants and I were just meant to be. As a curvy girl, your pants have always hugged me in just the right places. Thanks to your stretchy luon fabric, I no longer felt the need to hide my fuller thighs and my big booty underneath baggy sweatpants or long tank tops. Thanks to you, Lulu, those parts of my body that I was once so insecure about became my pride. You made me feel strong, beautiful and proud to just be me.

In 2009, my love affair with your products only deepened as I discovered your wunder under pant. Once again, my collection grew.

Fast forward to August 2011. I purchased my first pair of run inspire crops. And a few days later during a business trip to Toronto, I learned that they were completely, one-hundred and ten per-cent see-through in the ass.

I chalked this up to having gained a few pounds. Surely I thought once I took the weight off I would be able to wear these fabulous little workout pants.

Fast forward again to May 2013. I’ve lost nearly 40 pounds. You can still see my ass right through these pants.

In celebration of my 25th birthday yesterday, my boyfriend took me over to your store to buy me a new outfit for the Bluenose Marathon events we are participating in this weekend. I’m asthmatic. I’ve lost a lot of weight. This run is a big deal to me. And what better way to feel great than in a brand-new running outfit?

After flailing around in your store like a maniac trying to find anything in a size six that was not hot pink, lime green or electric blue, I learned that your black pant shortage was extended until mid-June.

Okay, fine. Maybe I’d try something in colour.

Lulu, those magical pants that used to make me look like I had a booty comparable to a Kardashian make me look like a tub of cottage cheese stuffed into a sausage casing. How is it possible that I currently look better in a bikini than in your pants?

Despite looking absolutely dreadful, I did the bend test. And unless it’s cool for the world to see exactly what pattern your underwear are when you tip at the hips, I don’t think I passed. I even tried to go a size up. It was no help. If anything, it made matters worse.

I asked your lovely sales associate if your crops were supposed to be see-through in the butt. Her response was yes, because the material is supposed to be lightweight and breathable for running.

Seriously?

How am I supposed to tie my shoes?

How am I supposed to get out of my car without flashing my passenger?

I don’t know about you Lulu, but I do not know a single person who buys a pair of $88 to $98 pants ONLY for running.

Would you spend that much money on a pair of pants knowing that you wouldn’t be able to do any other form of cross-training in them? I don’t know a single person who buys workout pants knowing they will not be able to bend, squat, downward-dog or sit down in them without giving the world a little show.

Is this the best you can do, Lulu?

I will patiently await your next shipment of black luon pants with the hope that it will be just like the good ol’ days when we first got together.

But in the meantime, I am incredibly heartbroken and without a snazzy new outfit for my first-ever running race.

I hope that someday we can give our relationship another try. But for now, I’m feeling so disappointed in you that I think it’s best that we see other people.

Just remember that it’s not me, Lulu. It’s you.

The Return of Justin Timberlake

As those of you who follow me on Twitter and/or Facebook would know, I had a sheer and utter meltdown of excitement when I heard the news last week that Justin Timberlake would be dropping a new single this month.

Seriously, guys. I was having heart palpitations, hot flashes and my eyes were filled with tears. Six years is a long time to wait for new material from one of your favorite artists (sorry, Nick Carter, but I fell in love with you 16 years ago and you still haven’t given me my ring. We’re over.)

I LOVED Justified. I LOVED LOVED FutureSex/LoveSounds. But my favorite songs on those singles weren’t necessarily the smash hits such as Rock Your Body, Cry Me a River, SexyBack or LoveStoned. Nope. I was more into Until the End of Time, My Love, Damn Girl and perhaps my favorite Justin Timberlake song of all time, Take It from Here.

My favorite kind of Timberlake is slower tracks that are layered with amazing beats, sexy lyrics and topped with his incredibly smooth voice. And that’s exactly what his new single Suit and Tie has proved to be.

I’ve always been impressed with Justin’s ability to capture such a wide fan base as a solo artist. I think it’s pretty amazing that this former N’Sync member was able to impress males who were in the sixth grade when “Bye, Bye, Bye” was like, the best song ever, and turn them into fans. You know who you are, boys. The ones thinking who would write “sucks” after a girl would write “Justin Timberlake” inside a heart on the front her Hilroy Scribbler. Yeah, I’ve seen you dancing in the club to Rock Your Body.

What I’m saying is that I truly feel that Justin is one of the few artists left who is a true artist when it comes to his music. I believe that everything he puts out comes from a very special place within him that none of us will understand. He’s a creative genius and a perfectionist. And because of that, I understand why his single hasn’t followed the sound trends of 2012/2013. He’s not trying to keep up, he’s simply Justin. He has put something out because it was something that came from within him, not something he ripped off or a trend he tried to get on top of. It was something he felt and gave life to. Something he collaborated on with other artists that he respects and trusts.

I absolutely love Suit and Tie because it is uttery Timberlake. No, the song isn’t flashy. It isn’t one you’re going to be jammin’ out to on a Saturday night. But it is him in his purest form. And as a fan, what could possibly be better than that?

Long time no talk!

Oopsie! Somebuny has been slacking on her postings! It’s amazing how much can change in such a short amount of time.

Since I last posted the following things have happened:

1. I started a new job

2. I lost a total of 25 lbs

3. Kim Kardashian got a pet Kat named Mercy

4. Kim Kardashian’s pet kat named Mercy died

5. Barack Obama was elected to his second Presidential term

6. Mitt Romney’s Binder Full of Women became possibly my favorite and most over-used joke ever

7. I went to a Knicks game where I experienced the most hilarious 5 minutes of my entire life

8. I started TRX training – ouch!

9. Christmas

10. KIMYE HAS GOTTEN PREGNANT.

OH EM GEE KIMYE IS PREGNANT! So much juice. SO. MUCH. JUICE. Will it be a boy, a girl, or some crazy breed of high-art and fabulousness? Either way, I kannot WAIT for this baby to enter the world. No doubt it will kome out kovered in glitter and a gold chain.

I think my blogging komeback is going to have to be all things Kimye baby.

I apologize in advance.

xoxo Gossip Girl

If All Gays Go To Hell, I’m Handing in My Halo

This morning I was scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, just like any other morning. My friends list is filled with a diverse mix of folks from all across the world. And, as I’m sure you can imagine, this makes Facebook a very interesting place filled with varying opinions, great debates and lots of interesting photographs.

As I waited for my good friend Carly to reply to one of my messages, a picture popped up in my newsfeed with the following comment attached: “Don’t forget to support your local Chick-Fil-A today!”

The girl woman who posted this photo and comment kind of reminds me of Carrie Prejean. Pretty, blonde, southern-ish, occasionally skanky-ish and obsessed with good ol’ G-O-D.

I’m sure you’re all aware of what’s been going on with Chick-Fil-A. If you’re not, check it out on Wikipedia or another internet source of your choosing.

Long story short: IS THIS BITCH SERIOUS? IS. SHE. SERIOUS?!

It’s 2012, and she is posting pictures that say Jesus is God! Try to boycott us! to support a company that does not support equal rights?

I went to church growing up. Some, including my mother, would define us as recovering Roman Catholics. Sure, I believe in a higher power. God, or whatever you want to call it. Yes, I believe we go somewhere else when we die and that that place is probably really fantastical. But guess what else I believe? I believe EVERYONE goes to that same place, because I think everyone has both good and bad in them. And MY God does not judge people. I was taught that Jesus loves everyone, and that people can, and should, be forgiven for their “sins”. But guess what I don’t think is a sin? Loving another person.

After I promptly deleted this Chick-Fil-A-Loving-Anti-Universal-Health-Care-Bible-Thumping-Woman-Girl from my internet life, I began to think about how sad it is that people like this still exist in 2012.

I think loving God and believing whatever you want to believe is great. But I also think that when that love and that belief hurts other people, it is no longer good. It is no longer pure. And I believe that if God were to judge and damn anyone to hell, it would be those kind of people.

That said, say that Chick-Fil-A-Loving-Anti-Universal-Health-Care-Bible-Thumping-Woman-Girl is right. What if God really does hate homosexuals and they cannot be saved? What if they go to hell and burn for all eternity? In that case…

SIGN A SISTER UP!

That’s right boys and girls. If all gay people do go to hell, hell is probably filled with SO much love and acceptance. It probably also has the best parties ever. Parties filled with pyrotechnics and fog machines. Fireworks and attractive people dancing in cages in their sexy underwear. Red and orange glitter confetti. Crazy house music with the best bass lines you’d never heard in your mortal life, coupled with crazy dance parties to the likes of Madonna, Abba, Gaga, Britney and Robyn. Can you imagine such a place? I cannot think of anything better.

It surely beats the thought of sitting around on white fluffy clouds eating Chick-Fil-A and Philadelphia Cream Cheese.

So I will end this post by saying this:

God…

If there is a God…

if you’re a man or a woman… if you’re listening… I’d really, really like you to send me to hell.

Your diehard followers say that I will only want this to happen if the Angels go there.

The gay angels, I mean.

So, maybe you can help me go there a little.

Amen.

Oh, A-woman, too.
PS: What looks like more fun?

This:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or this?

 

 

A Very Bella Swan Apology

Unless you live under a rock, you’ve probably heard that the woman who everyone loves to hate has cheated on the man who everyone loves to love.

Yes, I’m talking about Kristen Steward and Robert Pattinson.

AKA KStew and RPatz.

BKA Bella Swan and Edward Cullen.

What is perhaps being talked about more (at least in my PR circles) than her boring scandalous affair is her apology.

Says KStew,

“I’m deeply sorry for the hurt and embarrassment I’ve caused to those close to me and everyone this has affected. This momentary indiscretion has jeopardised the most important thing in my life, the person I love and respect the most, Rob. I love him, I love him, I’m so sorry.”

Mistake #1:
Giving WAYYYY too much information wayyyy too early on. She has just:
a.) confirmed her relationship and the seriousness of the her relationship with Rob
b.) Put a vague timeline on the affair. Just what does she mean by momentary? One day? One month? Six months?

Mistake #2:

A public apology before a private Rob apology… IN A PRESS RELEASE. What? Is this the same grimy ol’ rebellious KStew who wears sneakers with dresses, doesn’t brush her hair and is the anti-celebrity? The press release allows us to understand that this was not a knee-jerk statement, although it reads as a knee-jerk statement. It had to go through a chain of people and it had to be sent by someone else.

Mistake #3:

Relating to Mistake #2: SO. OFF. BRAND. KStew, who ARE you?! You would have been so much smarter to shed the Bella Swanesque image, go full-on bad ass and say, “Yes, I screwed the married director. This is my private life and I will deal with it privately.”

You know what the apology WAS on brand for? Bella mother-freakin Swan. Now, I am not exactly a Twi-Hard, but I have read all the books and I’ve seen all the movies. And I have seen most of the movies on opening night. And if I can tell you anything for sure, I can tell you this: that apology IS Bella Swan.

And this is why I think the apology was very purposely Bella Swan:

The movie is about to come out. The press tour is about to start. Bella and Edward Kristen and Rob are no longer speaking. And, let’s be serious: Twi-Hards are not obsessed with Kristen, they are obsessed with the man who brings their sparkly vampire to life. In fact, a lot of “Twi-Hards” who are insanely obsessed with Rob kind of hate Kristen for the sheer fact that she captured his heart and they did not. And, while they loved that Kristen and Rob did the no-pants dance on screen during the last movie, they are kinda jealous that the two of them were also doing the no-pants dance off screen.

So what do you do when the girl everyone hates breaks the heart of the vampire everyone is marrying in their fan-fiction journals?

You morph her into a real-life Bella as much as you possibly can. You make these crazy Twilight fans begin to forget what is real and what is fantasy. While their hearts originally crumbled at the thought of Rob being heartbroken, their hearts are now crumbling at the thought of Kristen and Rob AKA Bella and Edward no longer being together. The more Kristen’s publicists can make her Bella-like, the more the Twi-Hards will stop hating her, start cheering for her and praying for the two of them to get back together.

That is the ONLY scenario I feel makes sense for the hideous statement she publicly released that sounded nothing like her. Who knows, if you look hard enough and enforce some type of twisted morse code upon your very own copy of Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn, you just might find that statement intertwined into Stephanie Meyer’s words of scripting Bella has a hopeless, love-struck, confused, inexperienced and vulnerable girl who just wants to be with the person she can’t live without… even if Jacob has the sexiest bod ever.

And, while this conspiracy theory I’ve developed on this hypothetical PR move may help “now”, it could also brand KStew as Bella Swan and not a serious actress for the rest of her human life.

The Recent and Rapid Evolution of KK

As if my long dark hair, center part and occasional pathetic attempts of sock-bunning-it weren’t proof enough, I love Kim Kardashian. I love Kim Kardashian with every inch of pear-shaped-olive-skinned-still-haven’t-figured-out-what-my-nationality-actually-is soul.

I love Kim K so much, that sometimes I squint in the mirror at red lights so I can pretend to have her gorgeous almond-shaped eyes instead of my gigantic grape-shaped ones. Sometimes, I wish I had my mother’s maiden name so I could be Jill J. KK and JJ.

… Okay, maybe I’m lying. I’ve actually have never wished to be Jillian Johnson because that just sounds ridiculous. And I’m not that creepy.

But on a serious note, I love her. I really love her. And no, I don’t love her for who she is, because I don’t know her. I just love what she looks like.

And incase you are now wondering, the answer is yes. If you’ve ever told me I look like Khloe or Kourtney instead of Kim, I’ve secretly wanted to flick you in the ear.

But lately, I haven’t been able to help but notice the dramatic change in her appearance. Suddenly, Kim K isn’t looking so Kim K. And I’m seriously contemplating breaking up with her as my celebrity style muse.

Let’s start with…

Exhibit A: The Kim Kardashian I fell in girl-crush-love-with

Hi Kim, my name is Jill. And I’m kind of obsessed with your face.

Moving on…

Exhibit B: Goodbye luscious locks

Almost immediately after Kimye became an item, her long, wavy hair and center part disappeared. This, I can deal with. We all go through hair changes and style phases. Not a big deal. Yet, perhaps a big deal when your hair has basically become (one of) your trademark(s), and we never, ever see it anymore. It doesn’t even come out for a brief “hi!”.

Exhibit C: A beach cover up at a pool party… IN VEGAS?! Really?!

There is nothing more to say than — this is NOT the KK I know. Also – do we see a common theme of ZERO bright colors and ZERO wave in the hair and NO EXTENSIONS?!!

Exhibit D: The lack of make-up

I first noticed this trend being coupled with the lack of wavy hair and/or hair extensions on Oprah…

I’ve also noticed it in several of her recent paparazzi shots and at the BET Awards.

Call this a fresh look for Kim all you want, but those of us with a borderline obsession with Hollywood know that Kim’s BET Awards dress was nearly a replica of the one Kanye’s ex Amber Rose wore when she went to the BET Awards on his arm in 2009.

Exhibit E: The unthinkable has happened: KK seen in public NOT looking flawless.

Girlfriend. GURLLLLL FRIENDDDDD. Please!

Honey, was the water shut off in your hotel room suite mid-shower while allowing your conditioner to set? Then, did the power also go out? Followed by a crazy person breaking into your hotel suite forcing you to go to Fashion Week in PARIS looking like THAT?! Regardless of any of the above happening, there is no excuse for this. NONE. EVER.

In Konclusion: Kim Kardashian has gone krazy and Kanye is kontrolling her

Mark my words: it may happen a year from now, a week from now, a divorce, marriage, a baby and another divorce from now, but one day Kim is going to give an exklusive interview about how Kanye was kontrolling her and forcing her to be someone she isn’t. She will say that he was jealous, obsessed with her fitting a mould, and didn’t like her former image. She was hurt by her impeding divorce from Kris and was desperate to be loved.

A world with a Konservative Kim Kardashian is just not a world I want to live in.

A HUGE Day for Hip-Hop

My heart is bursting with pride for someone I have never met.

Today marks what might be one of the biggest days in modern hip-hop. Today is a day that many questioned whether they’d see in their lifetime.

Today a man named Frank Ocean took a huge risk. He took to his website to write a beautiful post about his first love.

His first love was a man.

Even if you don’t follow hip-hop culture, many of you will likely be familiar with how non-accepting the community has historically been. Terms like “no homo”, “pause” and even the word “fag” are so often dropped in a casual and joking manner  - the people using these terms with no realization of how offensive these words can be to those gay, straight and otherwise.

While Frank Ocean is unarguably incredibly talented, he has yet to experience the luxury of a mega radio hit and has yet to become a household celebrity name.

If you had asked me yesterday whether or not I’d thought that Frank Ocean had yet to “make it”, I would have said no. If you asked me that same question today, my answer would be absolutely.

Although I am a straight white female, I have many incredible gay people in my life who I love dearly. I also have certain people in my life who have yet to come out and I can see how much they’re struggling internally with the strength to do so.

Frank Ocean’s brave decision to come out in an industry that is so often filled with homophobia has been welcomed by those in cyberspace with such love and admiration that it’s overwhelming.

So thank you, Mr. Ocean, for being who you are… and showing others that it’s okay to be who they are, too.

Read Frank Ocean’s blog post below:

Whoever you are, wherever you are..I’m starting to think we’re a lot alike. Human beings spinning on blackness. All wanting to be seen, touched, heard, paid attention to. My loved ones are everything to me here. In the last year or 3 I’ve screed at my creator, screamed at the clouds in the sky, for some explanation. Mercy maybe. For peace of mind to rain like manna somehow. 4 summers ago, I met somebody. I was 19 years old. He was too. We spend that summer, and the summer after, together. Everyday almost. And on the days we were together, time would glide. Most of the day I’d see him, and his smile. I’d hear his conversation and his silence…until it was time to sleep. Sleep I would often share with him. By the time I realized I was in love, it was malignant. It was hopeless. There was no escaping, no negotiating with the feeling. No choice. It was my first love, it changed my life. Back then, my mind would wander to the women I had been with, the ones I cared for and thought I was in love with. I reminisced about the sentimental songs I enjoyed when I was a teenager..the ones I played when I experienced a girlfriend for the first time. I realized they were written in a language I did not yet speak. I realized too much, too quickly. Imagine being thrown from a plane. I wasn’t in a plane though. I was in a Nissan Maxima, the same car I packed up with bags and drove to Los Angeles in. I sat there and told my friend how I felt. I wept as the words left my mouth. I grieved for them, knowing I could never take them back for myself. He patted my back. He said kind things. He did his best, but he wouldn’t admit the same. He had to go back inside soon, it was late and his girlfriend was waiting for him upstairs. He wouldn’t tell me the truth about his feeling for me for another 3 years. I felt like I’d only imagined reciprocity for years. Now image being thrown from a cliff. No, I wasn’t on a cliff, I was still in my car telling myself it was gonna be fine and to take deep breaths. I took the breaths and carried on. I kept up a peculiar friendship with him because I couldn’t imagine keeping up my life without him. I struggled to master myself and my emotions. I wasn’t always successful.

The dance went on..I kept the rhythm for several summers after. It’s winter now. I’m typing this on a plane back to Los Angeles from New Orleans. I flew home from another marred Christmas. I have a windowseat. It’s December 27, 2011. By now I’ve written two albums, this being the second. I wrote to keep myself busy and sane. I wanted to create worlds that were rosier than mine. I tried to channel overwhelming emotions. I’m surprised at home far all of it has taken me. Before writing this I’d told some people my story. I’m sure these people kept me alive, kept me safe..sincerely. There are the folks I wanna thank from the floor of my heart. Everyone of you knows who you are..great humans, probably angels. I don’t know what happens now, and that’s alrite. I don’t have any secrets I need kept anymore. There’s probably some small shit still, but you know what I mean. I was never alone, as much as I felt like it..as much as I still do sometimes. I never was. I don’t think I ever could be. Thanks. To my first love, I’m grateful for you. Grateful that even though it wasn’t what I hoped for and even though it was never enough, it was. Some things never are..and we were. I won’t forget you. I won’t forget the summer. I’ll remember who I was when I met you. I’ll remember who you were and how we’ve both changed and stayed the same. I’ve never had more respect for life and living than I have right now. Maybe it takes a near death experience to feel alive. Thanks. To my mother, you raised me strong. I know I’m only brave because you were first..so thank you. All of you. For everything good. I feel like a free man. If I listen closely..I can hear the sky falling too.

-Frank

Why I think Tom Cruise is terrifying

1. This picture

From the tank top and the jeans, to the arm-on-the-head pose and the single erect nipple, everything about this photo just creeps me out.

I don’t know if this shot was taken at a glamour photo booth at a shopping mall in the back woods of Minnesoda, but it’s all kinds of wrong.

Couple this photo with everything else you’ve ever come to know about Tom Cruise, including Rosie O’Donnell’s obsesion with him, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for reoccurring nightmares for an entire month.

2. The treatment of Siri…Suri…Surfy? Whatever. An of his (ex) wife Katie

I’d like to start off by saying: Suri, it’s okay. I would also be this stressed out if Tom Cruise was my Dad.

Is it just me, or has this entire family arrangement just seemed entirely odd since day one? First of all, Tom Cruise dating Joey from Dawson’s Creek? Really? Did anyone see that coming?

I won’t get into too much detail because their whole “arrangement” just seemed off to me from day one. Katie always seemed so miserable and controlled. He might as well have put her in a gigantic human-sized bird cadge and rolled her around Hollywood.

Speaking of rolling things around, it was YEARS before Tom and/or Katie seemed to allow their child to walk anywhere. It also seemed to be years before they also let her wear shoes and/or jackets — even on the cold streets of New York City in December.

Sure, I understand that paparazzi is a big issue and you want to be keep your little Xenu Princess safe, but really. REALLY. Even if you didn’t let her walk, you could at least put a coat and some footware on the poor child.

I also found it odd how much Tom let Suri tell him what to do. There have been reports that she decided she would not have any more siblings. She decided what kind of car they’d drive, what they were going to eat for dinner and what clothes Tom and Katie would wear. This may or may not be true, but I know ya’ll can agree with me when I say I can totally picture Tom rubbing little Suri’s head like a crystal ball and asking her questions.

3. Scientology

I don’t want to knock anyone’s religion. Different people have different beliefs for different reasons and I totally respect that. That’s great. But, I will let you watch this video and allow you to draw your own conclusions on Tom and his cult very public and unwavering commitment to his church.

PS: The video IS there. Just keep watching.

4. Couch Jumping on Oprah

We all remember this. I don’t think I need to say anything else. I will say, I can’t believe that this was real and not a parody of a Jim Carrey skit.

5. Tom Cruise (calmly) freaks out on Matt Lauer

WHAT THE?!!!! Just watch this. His eyes were burning into Matt Lauer’s soul. Literally terrifying.

Click here to watch the video.

Dentist Woes

Today is the first day I’ve ever hated the dentist.

You see, I’ve always had what could be deemed as “perfect teeth”. I actually used to love going to the dentist because I got to lay back in a relatively comfortable chair, get tons of attention, talk (mumble) about myself, and was told over and over again that I have great teeth.

It is perhaps the best hour of ego-stroking you can get.

Sure, my lil’-pearly whites have their flaws, but overall they’repretty great. They’re straight. They’re white. They’ve never needed anything more than wisdom teeth removal and routine cleanings. And, I floss!

Unfortunately this great track record all came crumbling down while I was in Las Vegas last month.

While I leaned over the marble sink in our gorgeous hotel room brushing my teeth, I suddenly felt a pain in the back right-hand side of my mouth. The pain was so unbearable I thought I was going to pass out.

I then started to freak out because I thought my molar was falling out. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol or the crazy amounts of oxygen they pump through those casinos, but my tooth was definitely not falling out. Just sore.

But lately, this little molar problem has been getting a little too extreme to continue to ignore. Whenever I drink cold liquids, the awful pain comes flooding back. I even used my handy-dandy flashlight app on my iPhone to investigate inside my mouth and am 99 per cent sure I have a hole in my tooth.

Could it be possible? Is my luck really that bad that I would only develop my first-ever cavity after I’m booted off my Dad’s health plan? After I take a temporary break from full-time work? Well played, Universe. Well played.

I’ve been fretting about whether or not to go to the dentist, or if I should just wait until I hopefully luck into some benefits via a new job. Heck, maybe I should just marry someone so I can get them.

You see, I hate spending money on anything that is not fun. In fact, I despise it. These things include going to the dentist, gasoline, car insurance, tampons and deodorant. It infuriates me. There’s nothing exciting about purchasing those things, and yet, they have to be done.

So here I am. Staring my dental appointment on July 10 at 8 a.m. in the face. When I phoned to book my appointment this morning, I asked for a cost estimate. Not sure how normal that is, but I feel like I need to know so I can plan and prepare myself before going through a silent, internal rage at the receptionist’s desk when it’s time to pay up.

I was told that depending on the severity of the cavity, I’m looking at $130 to $350. I can manage that price range. But — if anyone comes near me with any fluoride treatments or extras that I’m going to have to pay for, their rubber glove hands are getting karate-chopped.

And I better get a free toothbrush and dental floss.

Yup. I’m going to write about Weddings.

I’ve been thinking about weddings a lot lately. Not because I have any plans to get married anytime soon, but because they seem to keep getting shoved in my face.

Whether I’m watching Say Yes to the Dress or Four Weddings, surfing Pinterest and stumbling upon “Wedding Boards”, creeping Facebook only to find status updates from the hundreds of brides-to-be I seem to know, or talking to my friends about their own upcoming weddings — THEY. ARE. EVERYWHERE.

Seriously. E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E.

I’m not complaining because quite frankly, I love love. And I love dressing up. And I love extravagant spending on ridiculous things, like a dress you’ll only wear once or a horse-drawn carriage. Can you even get those in Nova Scotia?

What I’ve found interesting about this wedding madness in my life is the one common theme I’ve discovered: STRESS.

I get SO stressed! And they aren’t even MY weddings. Perhaps this is the pinnacle of a foreshadow of me as the biggest Bridezilla in the history of the world. We all know it’s going to happen. Or maybe it won’t.

Anyway, the whole point of this is to tell you all about a huge change of heart on weddings I’ve had within the last few weeks. And for those of you who know me, it will shock you.

Simplicity. I want my wedding to be simple. And I want it to be about love.

Lately, I’ve seen a whole lot of brides getting so stressed out about making everyone else happy. They seem to be failing to enjoy the moment and the excitement of planning because they’re so worried about what other people are going to think.

I’ve always wanted a big, gigantic, crazy wedding. But recently I realized that when I take on big, gigantic crazy things, I myself get big, gigantic and crazy. It’s not a good look.

The change-of-wedding-heart came to me recently after looking at pictures from my grandparent’s wedding. I don’t think there were any more than 15 people in attendance. My grandma wore a two-piece skirt suit rather than a wedding dress – and she looked unbelievable.

Their wedding, from what I could tell, was all about loving each other and bringing two lives together — not about how many people attended to see how fancy and grand the event was. It also wasn’t about feeding zillions of people you barely even know — or care to know — rubber chicken plated dinners.

My grandparents appeared to have the most amazing, loving relationship that ever existed. And they didn’t need a big fancy wedding to solidify or kick-start their marriage.

I don’t want my wedding to be an event where people are going to judge me for my flowers, music, venue or dress. I want it to be about celebrating the start of a very special lifelong bond with my partner.

I also don’t want to go into debt because I feel pressured into spending insane amounts of money on things to impress others. I’d rather save the money and purchase myself a new Louis bag for my honeymoon, thank you… (yes, I know that is an ironic statement).

Loving the idea of a small, intimate wedding was only confirmed for me today after a friend let me in on a big secret -she’s eloping!

And no, I won’t tell you who it is. And no, I won’t tell you where she’s doing it. She is keeping it a huge secret and they are only inviting their closest friends and family members.

They have the perfect location and her dress is breathtakingly gorgeous. The whole wedding just screams romance, love, happiness and intimacy. That’s what I want. Mediocre plated dinners, disco balls and a whole bunch of people I wouldn’t even call if I had a bad day or exciting news to share just doesn’t do it for me.

I’m not saying the size of your wedding will dictate the happiness of your marriage. And I’m not saying big weddings are bad. What I suppose I’m saying is that I hope the many brides-to-be can stop stressing about making it “perfect”. I hope they can start focusing on what brought them to this very special day, and where they hope this special day will take them in the future.

J xX

My grandparents Helen and Claude on their special day. They were blessed to share 68 incredible years together. I love them both very much and really admire their relationship.