Cock and Hen

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As I’ve mentioned, my sister is getting married in May.

After months and months of arguing that I will be requiring a double room with not a lot more information on the matter, I am now slightly dateless.

Although technically I’m not. Mr Married Man has still said he will go with me. But that would just be weird right?

Then there’s the hen do. I can’t be in the same room as my sister without arguing or crying. I am apparently ‘head bridesmaid’ supposedly you have to be married to be maid of honour, but I know absolutely nothing about the wedding and bought my own bridesmaid dress without much consultation from my sister other than sarcastic comments. There is a time for sarcasm, and when buying a £400 dress for her wedding, it was not the time!

I refused to organise the hen party. I refused to go to the hen party. I don’t want to travel 200 miles to sit with strangers and argue with my family.

My mums organising it, she rang me to say my sister said she doesn’t care if no one else turns up as long as my mum and I are there.

This is something I cannot understand. I cannot get my head around it. After years of being treated like shit, I don’t understand how she can think I can forget all that and pretend like everything okay when she still makes absolutely no effort.

My mums booked the spa weekend for the hen night and paid for me to go I’m sending her a cheque, I refuse to let her pay, but as far as my sisters concerned, I have no idea what’s going on.

I need all the luck in the world to survive this.. on the plus side, I can buy all willy merchandise from Ann Summers!

I Do

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I just had a quick look on Facebook. I hate Facebook. I hate spending so much time looking at what people I don’t care about are up to. But I’ve just seen a girl I used to work with in the country got married today. She looked beautiful. She changed her status from ‘Engaged’ to ‘Married’, and changed her last name. It’s always strange when people change their last names, takes a while to get used to.

I’m happy for her, but then I also felt a bit sad for myself. I don’t think I will ever have that.
I’ve always told my mum that I’m going to run away and elope. ‘Go for it, saves me paying for your wedding.’ she would reply. I don’t think she means it though. I think she’d be a bit mad really.

My mum got engaged at 19, she left a note on the table for her parents.
Got engaged, gone down the pub
They weren’t too impressed. She always said she wouldn’t marry a farmer. Didn’t turn out that way.

My sisters having a traditional wedding, at the church where we were Christened, and where my parents and both aunties got married. She’s having the reception at a castle. And a horse drawn carriage. Typical spoilt brat princess wedding.

Mr Married Man, is of course, slightly put off marriage. He says he married her to try and fix their relationship, which is just plain stupid really. It didn’t fix it, and now he’s trapped.

One out of Two first marriages ends in divorce, I find that suprisingly high! Do a lot of people rush into it?

I would love to someday have a husband and be a Mrs, but somehow, if I took his last name it would feel tainted knowing someone else had it before me. I guess I could say that about the whole relationship though.

Still need that divorce first.

All Dressed Up And No Place To Go

Caution: Contains grumpiness

It’s New Years Eve. Or so I’m told. Quite frankly, I lost count of what day’s what ages ago. Just a blur. I know I should be out celebrating though, and I’m not. I don’t feel like I have anything to celebrate.

The last year has been a bit surreal, and I welcome the new year, I do.

Mr Married Man keeps saying that 2012 will be our year, that we will get everything sorted out and be together. So this is they year the secrets start to come out, a careful puzzle piece at a time to build up an ideal picture to everyone else, and only we will know about the cracks in it.

He’s away at the moment with his wife at a wedding, and won’t be back until tomorrow. So ‘our year’ and he’s spending it with his wife. Our year, yeah right. Not a great start to it.

I didn’t mind that he’s away as I was going out with the girls. But the one organising it has decided to stay with her family longer so is out of London. I rang round my other friends and they’re all staying in with their families too. I couldn’t want to get away from my family, they bring out all my insecurities and make me into a crumbling wreck.
I can’t wait until I have my own family.

As soon as I got back to London I saw Mr Married Man, and every day since. But today is the day I wanted him most. Who am I meant to kiss at Midnight now?

I’m fed up of being grumpy now. So in 2012 I’m going to be positive. Ish. For a while perhaps. I’ll try, I promise.

She Must Be Drunk

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Everyone always said the relationship between sisters gets better when you’re older. That all the fighting and bickering stops once they move out and that you will actually miss them and talk more.

My sister is older. So my whole childhood was spent being hit by her, emotionally abused, and as she was older and therefor apparently cooler, she would steal my friends. When my friends did come around she would try and embarrass me, or them. She once poured water over one of my friends, and didn’t stop there. She then poured flour over them. In their hair and everything. How pathetic.

She moved out at 21, and I moved out a few months later at 19. We don’t speak much, and when we do, it’s just sarcastic comments from her to try and bring me down.

We went to see a tribute band last night, there were 19 of us in total. She ignored me the whole evening, and sat with her arms folded looking miserable. She’s always been like that.

I used to be quiet, because my family always interrupt me when I speak. So I gave up. So I came back home loud and confident, and within a day, I’m back to my quiet insecure self. Wait a minute, when did you start talking?! You normally sit there quiet said my dads friend. So it was a noticeable difference. My mum wasn’t in the room at the time, she came in later. He asked me a question, I started replying and she spoke over me and answered. THAT is exactly why I used to be quiet I said above her. I can’t get a bloody word in usually

Because I used to be quiet, when I spoke people didnt hear me so I would get ignored. I was used to this. Last night I asked my sister a question across the table. She ignored me. On purpose. I don’t think she heard you, Sweetie said the lady next to me. My sister looked at her, smirked, said I did and then went back to ignoring me. She’s just ignorant I replied.

‘Angels’ was sang, the singler got everyone in the room to stand up, hold hands and sway. Everyone but my sister got up. She then escaped to the ladies. On her return I grabbed her to join in. Instead of holding hands she made fists. I was holding her fist. Like she was a stubborn little child crossing the road. I tried to make it hands, she refused, so for the rest of the so I held her wrist.

I spoke about her wedding to the lady next to me. I’m the head bridesmaid, and I know nothing about the wedding as my sister doesn’t speak to me. I’m meant to organise her a hen party, when I know none of her friends or anything which is happening. I can’t do it. Whatever I do will be wrong. The tears started rolling down my face. I looked at my sister. She smiled. Not in a nice way, more in a ‘I’m happy you’re crying’ way. So up I got to dance, with tears pouring down my face.

When she left, she said bye to the lady next to me, ignored me, and went. Cue more tears and everyone staring at me. It is a boy? one asked, I shook my head unable to talk. Even my Dad came over to see what was the matter. I must have been a right state if he actually bothered to get off his chair. My mums input was not allowing me anymore wine. In my family you’re not allowed to cry, and I was. Therefore the alcohol was to blame of course. But it wasn’t. I’m sober and still crying now. I returned home with make up all down my face, sobbing in the back of a mini bus.

Three hours with my sister and she broke me. I want to go back to London now. One day here was enough. I don’t think I will ever feel the Christmas spirit this year

Send Me Some Christmas Cheer?

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I’m in need of a bit of Christmas cheer, a good carol, or some Christmas fairy lights.

I feel like I’m living in Scrooge’s house. As I have mentioned before, I don’t own the house. And whilst I’m going home for Christmas, someone else is staying in my room, so I can’t decorate it either. This also means I have to hide everything, and leave it in a nice state. Easier said than done.

I’m at home for Christmas, so this means moping about in the middle of no where, on my own. The worst thing about Christmas is being single? It’s not. The worst thing about Christmas is having someone I love, and knowing Mr Married Man is playing happy families whilst I’m on my own telling everyone I’m single.

Then there’s my sister. She has never liked me, I took some of the attention from her when I was a baby and she has never forgiven me for this. So now she’s engaged with her own baby. She has never liked children. The baby was an ‘accident’. She loves the attention from having a baby, and her wedding. But puts little effort into either. She is already on about a second child, and this drives me crazy.

I know I sound jealous, I’m not, I’m happy for her. Does she have everything I want? Yes. But she went to Uni, and has her career as well. I never wanted that. I want to be a SAHM, and one day I shall be.

So to survive the Christmas holidays, I better find a lot of Christmas cheer, and soon. Luckily for me, I have great friends back home who will certainly cheer me up. For now, I need to finish my xmas shopping and get the presents wrapped. If you find any magical christmas dust, send it my way please!