Sam and Dean's latest hunt on Supernatural - The Bridezilla!

Ok, so maybe they are not quite bad enough to qualify for certain death at the hands of the two hottest demon hunters on television, but the Bridezilla is a mighty terrifying creation of nature!
Don't get me wrong, I totally understand every woman wanting their wedding day to be the most wonderful day of their life. I get that, I really do, because I want mine to be one of the best of my life too.
But seriously, some go too far! The importance they place on that one single day in their lives is frightening and I honestly believe it means they might not be getting married for the right reasons - that they are getting married for the wedding day itself and not to spend the rest of their life with the one they love.
Here are just some examples I've personally come across or heard about from friends which made me wonder weather the women involved really are more than a little bit crazy:

• One of our wedding planner in Italy's former clients who insisted on a particular flower for her bouquet that bumped the price up from free and included in the package to £250 on top,
• A friend of a friend of mine who is about to spend £5,000 just on the champagne reception,
• Invitations which cost more than £5 each,
• A horse and carriage trotting through the busy main streets of Market Drayton on a sunny September morning, only to stop outside one of the town's roughest pubs where the reception was being held,
• More than 150 people at an afternoon, sit-down reception.

And these are just cases I've actually experienced myself! I've heard so many more stories about people who have to have this exact thing or who spend tens of thousands of pounds on their weddings, £2,000 or more just on the dress, hundreds of pounds getting their teeth whitened and God knows what else, for just one day to mark the start of a new chapter in their lives.
To me, actually marrying Da Boy is the most important thing to me, not what colour balloons I have or having our names professionally embossed onto a ring cushion.
So long as on the day I have the people I love there, in a beautiful setting, anything else is pretty much an added bonus. I don't care what flowers I have, exactly what food will be served or whether prosecco is served instead of champagne (which it will be, in actual fact).
I don't care if none of the bridesmaids' shoes match. I don't see the point of a receiving line. I'm not bothered whether I pull up to the ceremony in a Bentley or a Beetle. So what if one of the young children (or one of the adults!) there spills something on the tablecloths?
My dress cost a few hundred pounds and my shoes less than £30 from bhs. The veil and tiara were thrown in for free by the bridal shop. I'm having my hair put up on the day but only because it will be hot and sunny (fingers crossed!) and I'm no good at doing it myself. I'll be doing my own makeup and Da Boy will be in a smart, basic morning suit.
My bouquet and Da Boy's buttonhole will be whatever is included in the wedding planner's package. It's only going to get thrown to someone at the end anyway! We're having a guitar and mandolin duo play some of our favourite songs while we say our vows.
We are getting married at a public building on a clifftop, followed by a nice meal at a lovely hotel with views of Sorrento Bay. There will be no receiving line, no long speeches (although there will be a few short ones!) and the hotel is providing a gorgeous cake as part of the meal.
Afterwards, our 40 or so guests will be welcome to do whatever they like. It will be relaxed, informal and, most of all, fun.
Some women seem to instantly lose sight of what getting married is really about the second they get that glittery diamond ring on their finger. It is as though the second that precious metal comes into contact with their skin, the transformation takes place.
They become Bridezilla, where not having Moet champagne to welcome their guests becomes a tantrum-inducing, hysterical tear-shedding catastrophe. When not being able to have that exact shade of pale blue lily in their table centrepieces is enough to have them hurling their ring across the room and calling off the wedding.
I just don't get it!
So this is a plea to those women out there who are spending a small fortune on a single day of their lives making sure that they have every tiny thing their heart desires and driving their loved ones insane in the process.
Take a step back, chill out and focus on what REALLY matters most about your wedding day: Committing yourself totally, heart and soul, to spending the rest of your life with the one you love the most.
At the end of the day, the only thing that spoils the wedding for a Bridezilla is the Bridezilla herself.

The Quest for the Perfect Teapot

The Holy Grail. The Golden Fleece. A way home to Kansas from Oz. The destruction of the One Ring.
All of these great quests have one thing in common (I think, although I'm not 100% on whether anybody DID find the Holy Grail).
Our hero or heroine was successful.
However, there is one quest which I honestly believed has eluded every single person, young or old, male or female, who enjoys that greatest of British traditions - the cup of tea - for millennia and will continue to do so for eternity.
A teapot which doesn't drip.
Seriously, we have been glugging down the stuff on a daily basis for thousands of years. We have been to the moon (allegedly), found ways to treat and cure some of the most terrible diseases in the world and created rock music.
Yet even the best scientists on earth are incapable of coming up with a teapot design which stops half the heavenly brew ending up all over your worktop or tablecloth the second you tip the thing up.
I know this as my mother has been on such a quest for as long as I can remember and, when I moved out, passed the mantle on to me.
Chrome, steel, clay, long-spouted, short-spouted, patterned, plain, large or small, at home or in a cafe, I've tried them all and not a single pot on this earth can decant its contents into a cup or mug without dripping dark amber spots in places you don't want them.
Why is it so unachievable?! It must be possible! Somebody, somewhere must be able to make a teapot that doesn't drip?!
Maybe its a lack of funding for the research which, if that is the case, I have an idea.
Rather than all these countries spending billions of pounds making and storing weapons of mass destruction, Britain and the US included, they should stop their nuclear programmes and pump the money instead into creating the perfect receptacle in which to brew up the best drink in the world.
Think about it. All the world leaders can then sit down and have a good old chat over a cuppa and make friends. Because everybody knows a nice brew makes everything alright.
Just a thought...

Hmmm...

I have a question.
Is it wrong to like Taylor Swift 1) if you're not an American county music buff, 2) if you're not male and want to get in her pants and 3) if you're a female over the age of 15 and not in love with The Jonas Brothers?
Seriously, I think she's awesome! So does Da Boy but for different reasons (Allowed List, say no more).
Shame her slow songs are usually about heartbreak or being 15. Otherwise I reckon she could have been a contender for our first dance song! Still, she might have another album out before then. It would have to be something amazing to knock the current number one choice off though, the song a whole post was dedicated to a while ago.
There has been progress on that front though! Da Boy picked up his guitar and played it straight through after about three listens and he has been practicing. Maybe I can convince him to record it for the wedding after all!

It's a date...

... and a ceremony venue and reception venue too!
Yep, that's right, Da Boy and me have just returned from a very successful wedding planning trip to the beautiful country that is Italy and finally have the date set!
We had an absolutely fantastic week and have found the most amazing places for the big day.
The hotel we're having the reception at is just stunning, a beautiful place set right on the cliff, overlooking the bay of Sorrento.
At the moment we've also booked our second choice of ceremony venue, which is a villa set on the clifftop but we might also get our first choice of a stunning 14th century cloisters, which has been offered to someone else but they haven't yet accepted and we'll get it if they haven't replied in a week.
Although a part of me is leaning more towards the villa at the moment as it is much more private, whereas the cloisters will have tourists wandering in and out and able to watch us get married, which will kind of negate the whole point of getting married abroad in the first place.
Let me explain.
About four months before Da Boy proposed on Christmas Day 2008, he and I were sitting in our favourite Indian restaurant in town waiting for the best curry in Shropshire to find its way to our table when he suddenly and with no prompting began the most unexpected conversation I could have imagined.
You see, neither I or Da Boy had seriously talked about getting married. For me, it was something that would have been nice but not something I was desperate to happen as I would have been just as happy simply being with Da Boy for the rest of my life. I'm from a Catholic family but am not particularly religious myself.
Da Boy himself had never seemed that keen on getting married as it wasn't something he considered important, a trend that tends to run in his family. And that was fine, as I said, I was perfectly happy and had no overwhelming desire to drag my lovely man kicking and screaming down an aisle he never seemed too thrilled with walking down.
So that is why, after six and a half years together, when he brought it up in the middle of a curry house when he wasn't even slightly drunk, I was surprised and a bit shocked, to say the least.
The conversation went something like this:
Da Boy: "You know, it isn't that I don't want to BE married..."
Me: "What?"
Da Boy: "Married. It isn't that I don't want to marry you, it's just the actual thing of GETTING married that I don't want."
Me: "Sorry, come again?"
Da Boy: "It's just, I know it's something you'd like and I do want to be married to you, if I could just bypass the actual act of having to GET married. You know how I hate being the centre of attention and on your wedding day, there's no getting away from it. All the attention is on you."
Me: "Where has this come from?"
Da Boy: "I've just been thinking, that's all. If it were me, I'd just want to disappear and do it with nobody else there but I know that you would hate that and would be devastated if your family wasn't there. I know it means a lot to them that we get married and I know it would mean a lot to you. I just don't want to have to go through all that. If I could just get up tomorrow and BE married, that would be great."
So by this point, as you can tell, I was having a rare moment where I was a bit lost for words. Da Boy isn't one to come out with such things, he's very affectionate and sweet and loving but he is not comfortable talking about emotions and how he feels etc, so this whole conversation was a shock in more ways than one!
After a second or two to collect my thoughts, the conversation continued:
Me: "Well, we could always go and do it abroad, maybe with JUST family and one or two close friends."
Da Boy: "Eh? What? Like, maybe in Italy or something?" (I had taken him to Italy to my grandmother's village a couple of years before and he loved the place.)
Me: "Yeah, maybe. There would be less attention and it is the perfect way to ensure you only have a few people and only those who matter most to you there. I'm not saying I want you to propose right now this second but it's something to think about."
Da Boy: "Like at that place above your grandma's village?"
Me: "The sanctuary place? Yeah, that would be nice."
Da Boy: "That would be awesome! I'd really like that..."
The conversation did go on a bit more but I can't really remember it. And we didn't really talk about it too much more until he dropped the bombshell of an engagement ring on me Christmas morning a few months later.
We moved away from the idea of my grandmother's village and chose Sorrento, simply due to the fact so many weddings were arranged there that there was much less chance of things going wrong.
This is why the cloisters option might ultimately not be the best one for us. Dozens of tourists wandering in and gawping as Da Boy says "I do" could send him running for the hills! But we'll see.
Either way, in June next year I'll finally become Mrs Da Boy.
And all thanks to a random chat in a Shropshire curry house!

London here we come...!

I am officially a very happy bunny right now!
Last night was the big annual awards ceremony for the organisation I work for and me and three others were nominated for an award connected with diversity.
And we won!
Well, we were the only entrants, but still, we won!
Very excited and it means we're now going to the national awards ceremony down at a posh hotel in London on October 28th! Woop!
The local gala dinner thing was pretty nice too, we got a five-course meal and the chance to get all dressed up in nice dresses and dinner suits (which Da Boy was really happy about, he just LOVES wearing his suit - not).
As a nominee, we even got a goodie bag with a mug, fluffy bug sticker thingy and a really classy fake brushed chrome picture frame with an in-built clock and date facility in it! And as winners, we got an extra certificate and a mystery 'extra' prize to mark the occasion.
So I can now put my nomination certificate AND winner's certificate alongside my other, local award on top of the entertainment shelving unit in the lounge.
I'm not quite sure what to do with the 'extra winner's prize' of the commemorative cut glass paperweight though...

What a night!

There are those who may accuse me of being slightly biased but I don't care. Last night, Da Boy's band played one of their biggest gigs to date when they supported The Holloways in West Bromwich. And they totally rocked!
Seriously, the sound system was amazing, which clearly helped, turning it into a proper rock gig where every time the bass drum gets a whack you feel it right in the middle of your chest as it forces your heart into a brand new rhythm.
But, awesome speakers aside, The Jackdaws really were amazing. They just played absolutely fantastically and the crowd loved it as much as the few official, professional groupies who follow them to every gig (i.e. me, the other three band member's girlfriends, my good friends Mr B and Sonic and a couple of slightly mad but great fun lads from Shifnal).
Oh, and The Holloways were great too. Their songs sound way better live than they do recorded. I really did enjoy them, just not as much as The Jackdaws, obviously.
Anybody who wishes to sample the delights of The Jackdaws who, I promise you, will not disappoint as not one person who has seen them hasn't gone away totally converted as a fan, check out www.myspace.com/thejackdawsuk or www.thejackdaws.co.uk.

The Allowed List

I think everybody should have an Allowed List.
Seriously, they are perfectly healthy and a great distraction from the rubbishness that real life sometimes throws at you. It's the fantasy that makes them, the idea of being allowed something you can never and will never have.
We're all human beings and, while most of us are engineered to fall in love with one person at a time, we're also wired to appreciate many others on a sexual level.
I challenge anybody in this world to tell me that, no matter how much in love with their boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/husband or whatever, they have not enjoyed looking at others and felt that exciting flutter of lust in their stomach.
Anybody in a relationship who claims they never look and fancy another is, quite simply, lying.
It's absolutely fine to find other men (in my case, obviously) attractive because that's all it is. An attraction to the physical appearance. It's not love, never will be, it's just a natural, chemical reaction in your brain that can't be controlled.
Window shopping is fine, so long as you never actually try things on for size. Looking is allowed, experiencing is clearly not. Appreciation is NOT temptation, there is a big difference.
I love Da Boy with all my heart and, if there ever came a day when I felt anything close to actually wanting to be with another man, I would end things. So would he, should he ever find himself tempted by another woman.
I have never cheated and, as far as I know, neither has he. And this knowledge and trust hasn't come from us telling each other since we've been together, it came from discussions we had when we were just very close friends, when there was no reason at all for either of us to lie.
Any person who actually feels genuinely tempted to cheat on the one they supposedly love quite clearly doesn't love that person. Appreciation is fine, having a joke about it is great fun but if there is even the smallest part of you that actually could see yourself wanting to be with someone other than the one who supposedly has your heart, then I honestly believe you should leave.
Woah, right, that got a bit deep and meaningful there, not something I had planned for this post! So let's get back to the light-heartedness I originally planned.
There are a few simple rules Da Boy and me follow with our Allowed Lists.
1) Only famous people we have a million to one chance of ever meeting can feature.
2) There is a maximum of eight entries allowed at any one time (as I have mentioned before, this was a new rule Da Boy introduced when my list got too long).
3) Once the maximum number is reached, a one-in, one-out rule comes into play.
And 4) Obviously you can never actually have that fantasized one night with them!
Because that's the whole point, as I said before. They're a fantasy and an extremely fun one at that.
So, who's on my list then?
Here we go. The top three are in order of preference but the others are fairly changeable in where they appear.
Billie Joe Armstrong (Green Day)
Jensen Ackles (Supernatural)
Jared Padalecki (Supernatural)
Ryan Adams
David Tennant
Synyster Gates (Avenged Sevenfold)
Orlando Bloom
Daniel Radcliffe (but only now he's of legal age!)
My number one has remained in the top spot for the past five years or so, I just adore Billie Joe. We're going to see Green Day in October and I actually can't wait! Da Boy has already offered to take a bucket with us for the puddle of drool he is wholly expecting me to turn into on the night.
The two boys from Supernatural are fairly recent entries but I can see them sticking around for a good while. It took someone pretty special to push Ryan Adams and Synyster Gates down the list, I tell you!
So there it is. The boys I fancy the pants off.
But I tell you one thing. I wouldn't swap my incredible fiance for any of them, not in a million years.

A Goosebumps Moment With A Snag

Oh my God, today I heard the song that simply has to be the first dance at our wedding. It is just beautiful. Simple chords, beautiful but simplistic lyrics without any of the usual mushiness and the perfect tempo for a lovely, close, slow dance with my chap.
There's just one problem...
It hasn't actually been recorded anywhere and the only copy I have is a mobile phone recording from a live gig! And the quality is, quite simply, shocking.
Therefore, I feel I have just one option, given the man who wrote and performed this song (he's on the allowed list, needless to say) has only ever done it live this once and is highly unlikely ever to lay it down in a studio and certainly not before next June.
I am going to have to convince Da Boy to learn the chords and record it himself for us to dance to.
Now, there are two potential problems with this. One of them I'm fairly confident I can overcome but the other I'm not so sure about.
1) My fiance isn't that keen on the song himself, he thinks it's alright but nothing special.
2) He has informed me, in no uncertain terms, that there is no way in Hell he is going to dance to his own voice singing at our wedding.
The first one is the easy one. Da Boy really isn't that bothered what we do dance to as our first dance. We don't have "a song" for the two of us. The only one loved by us both is Jeff Buckley's version of Hallelujah but a song about love and life being a hollow sham probably isn't the most appropriate recording to start a new chapter of our lives together.
He won't take much convincing that my choice is the one because it's not a big deal to him. (No jokes about who wears the trousers please, it is Da Boy, whatever people might think!)
However, the second is a major obstacle. I have to point out here that Da Boy has a pretty damn good voice, is a fantastic guitar player and could, quite simply, record a beautiful version of this song standing on his head.
He wouldn't even need the guitar tab, he'd figure out all the chords after a couple of listens, set a copy of the words down in front of himself and be away on his digital mixer/recorder thingy. It is a standing joke in his band that the best guitarist and all round musician sits behind their drums!
No, the problem is that Da Boy absolutely hates being even close to the centre of attention. Anything which means people will be focusing on him in any way and he runs a mile. Hence why we're getting married abroad with just a few select guests of family and extremely close friends.
Not that he's lacking confidence or is particularly shy, he just likes to get on with things without any song and dance (no pun intended) or anybody paying attention. Even giving him a compliment or, if I'm feeling a bit sappy, telling him he's gorgeous makes him squirm in embarrassment.
I can see his point. Hearing your own voice, however lovely, filling your ears as you dance with your new wife for the first time would be a bit odd, especially for someone like Da Boy. So I suggested his band record the song for us to dance to.
And he very firmly shook his head and told me in no uncertain terms that Hell would freeze over before he danced to the sound of Buzzerd's voice either! Not that their singer is bad, on the contrary, he has a fantastic voice. The band boys just know each other far too well to have one of them sing a love song about another's relationship.
So, I'm a little bit stuck. I'm confident I can convince Da Boy to play the acoustic guitar bits, I just need to find a really good singer who doesn't know me or my fiance.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is looking about as possible as Gordon Brown being able to dig this country out of the hole he and his cronies have dropped us into and filled in with concrete.