The Life of Bon: February 2011

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Crying over spilt milk

As you might already know from previous blog posts, finding a wedding dress has been no simple task. After several dress shops and countless hours of selecting, trying on, taking off, adjusting, asking price, how soon soon could you do this, ETC... I found my dream dress. I bought it without hesitation. I left it in the hands of the trusted store employees to make the necessary alterations, and I was out the door, wildly relieved at having finally found THE dress.

Friday I had a fitting. The dress was all ready for me to pick up and take on home, just had to try it on one last time and make sure it was perfect.

I tried it on anxiously, yanking my jeans off and carefully slipping my gorgeous wedding dress over my body. I pranced out to the full length mirror to examine myself in this most perfect of dresses.

I hated it.


The shoulders had to be raised up and now the neckline was high enough to make me look like Jane Eyre. The bust of the dress didn't fit with my actual bust, and since I'm not exactly... *ahem*.... busty in the first place, saying I look like a sunken cave is a vast understatement. I had asked the chick at the shop to put some flowers by the neckline and what she made was one flimsy flower that looked like it was wilting, conveniently placed right next to the sunken cave. Then she charged me $15 for it.

After paying $200+ dollars for alterations and a veil, I threw the dress over my shoulder and trudged out of the shop. I wasn't 500 feet from the store before the silent tears started rolling down my cheeks. I waited until I was in the car to break into sobs. G has this ridiculously calming effect on me, so my first thought was to call him and have him solve all my problems. The conversation went like this:

B: I'm stressing out. I can't handle this. I'm never going to make it to the wedding date. I can't deal with everything. I hate my dress.
G: (bursting into laughter because he already knows what a hard time I had finding the dress in the first place) Oh honey this is crazy.
B: I know but I can't help it. I hate it. I hate this. I can't do it.
G: This is going to sound harsh, but I think you need to hear it. You're being too dramatic. Everything has to be done the hard way with you. Just keep it simple. You're too picky. Can't you just have fun with the wedding?
B: That didn't help
G: I don't know what you want me to say, Bon. You yourself are making your life hard. Just love the dress.
B: But I can't. I hate it.
G: ....long silence.... what am I supposed to say?
B: Say everything will be fine.
G: It will be if you make it fine. You're just being so dramatic and this is not that big of a deal. You've got to cut the drama or this is going to kill you. You're stressing over nothing.

At that point it was crystal clear to me that G was not going to be patient and loving and tender with me on this one so I got off the phone

I went inside the house where my mom was fixing dinner. I told her I hated my dress. Her response:

"Oh No! What's wrong with it? Did they not do the alterations right? Tell me exactly what you don't like about it. I'll go down and get it right if they didn't do the alterations how you wanted them. I'll fix it myself if that's what it takes! They're charging you for those alterations and they better get them right! Oh honey, I'm sure you're upset, but anything is going to look gorgeous on you...."

And that's why sometimes you just need a mom.

Tuesday, February 08, 2011

Careless driver

"You're a rotten driver. Either you ought to be more careful or you oughtn't to drive at all."
-Great Gatsby

I've been home from my mission for two years.

In that time I have paid for:
Four speeding tickets (totalling $610)
Two tickets for running stop signs ($180)
One handicapped parking ticket ($100)
Countless BYU parking violations (Which, let's just be honest with ourselves... I haven't paid any of those...)
One tow ($130)
Two boots ($100)
Two traffic school sessions ($50 a pop)
One plea and abeyance deal that my brother worked out for me ($50)

Do the math, my friends. It's over a thousand bucks on poor driving and parking habits. That's not to mention the $1200 a year I have to pay for my premium car insurance (Hey! It ain't cheap to insure a careless driver like myself!)

I thought I would learn to drive safer after my last bout of tickets (this was in April when I got two speeding tickets within a thirty minute time period), but I've realized now that for me to stop driving like an idiot is both unrealistic and hopeless. (My fiance's hurtful-yet-true analysis of my driving: "You're reckless, you don't pay attention to what's going on around you, and you drive too fast.") So, instead of figuring out how to avoid getting pulled over, my latest goal is to figure out how to avoid getting the ticket once I've already been pulled over.

Unfortunately, my record is 0 for 6 in getting pulled over and not getting a ticket. I don't know what it is about me that ticks cops off, but the second they see the short blonde in the black car, it's like their minds are made up that they're going to give me that ticket and teach me a lesson, goshdangit! I have watched other people skillfully avoid getting tickets, but I can't seem to master the art. Or even have mild success with the art. My brother's been pulled over six times in a short period of time. He's gotten ONE ticket. I've been pulled over six times in a short period of time. I've gotten SIX tickets.

Here are some strategies I have used. They have each failed.
-Crying. The cop seemed more impatient and annoyed than sympathetic. I later heard on the radio that men just totally shut off when women start crying and that it literally turns them off. Hmmm.... probably won't try that one again.
-Saying yes sir, no sir, yes sir. You know, the whole super respectful thing. He didn't seem phased at all.
- Having the car window down, the enginge turned off, my license and registration ready, hands on the steering wheel. I think me being this ready for the pull over just made the cop think that I've been pulled over one too many times... meaning I'm getting pulled over and still not fixing my bad driving habits. And the obvious solution to that is to give me a ticket, right?
- Saying I have a sick friend/ super emergency. Although he appeared somewhat understanding, the cop still nailed me with the ticket. And then I felt crazy guilty for lying.
- Being very humble and compliant. "Yes, officer, I know I was speeding. Yes, I know it was wrong. Yes, I deserve to be pulled over. I'm very sorry. It's fine. Give me the ticket. I understand." Again... the cop was totally unphased by my complete and utter humility.
- Joking around with the cop. I got a laugh out of him. I also got the ticket.

I'm open to some new suggestions....