Tag Archives: stress



I feel like the term “BrideZilla” is thrown around a little too loosely these days, thanks to WE TV. I’m not going to pretend I don’t watch that show (if you haven’t seen it, do! ASAP! It’s hilarious) so perhaps I’m guilty of being easily influenced by this show as well. The minute someone refers to a bride to be as a “BrideZilla” I get irritated. Immediately.

There is a BIG difference between a BrideZilla and a bride that expects great, efficient and attentive service and expresses her opinion. I recently watch an episode where a bride smashed her fist through a gift her friend made, and another destroyed a cake at the bakery because she didn’t get the answer I wanted. Oh, and another one dumped a pail of water on her sister in bed because she didn’t wake up and snap to attention immediately to tend to her needs.

Why is it that whenever a bride mentions having difficulties or disappointment with a florist or caterer or event planner, then immediately someone says “oh, ho ho, you’re not a BrideZilla, are you?” Puh-lease. If someone’s a BrideZilla, not only do you not call them that to their face, but you definitely don’t have to ask. You just KNOW. They make sure you KNOW. Women like that use fear and intimidation to get what they want, and it’s a shame. By contrast, an organized and efficient bride with a plan doesn’t have to use these juvenile tactics. She gets what she wants without throwing cakes, floral arrangements or pouring cold water on relatives.

Now let’s talk about the term “anal retentive”. For me this conjures up images of some straitlaced OCD person with a stick up the bum. Or perhaps some other not-so innocent things. J Usually an anal retentive person smells of cleaning supplies, and freaks out about messes, and folds their underwear. Okay, maybe I do those last two things but still. I don’t think my day to day personality could be called “anal retentive”, but I will freely admit that upon occasion, I can exhibit “anal retentive” qualities. Who doesn’t?

I’ve been called “anal retentive” a few times lately, not because I’ve had explosive episodes of crazy, but that’s the term my family is choosing to describe me when discussing my wedding planning, or my planning in general. They’re so used to me having an itinerary whenever they visit here or I go there that when I told one of my sisters that I hadn’t done their itinerary for next weekend yet, she expressed genuine shock. She wasn’t even being funny – she was genuinely concerned that I was unwell. They’re just used to me being that way. I like to know precisely what the plan is, even if it’s just a “loose guideline”. If I know what’s going on so that I can relax and have fun – I know it sounds weird, but I find that having a plan is comforting. Yet somehow this is translated into being “anal”.

My mom actually dropped the “retentive” part and just called me “anal” when speaking about me to a cruise planner. “She expects a high level of service, if you say you’re going to call her back, call her back. If you say you’re going to do something, do it. She’s VERY detail oriented. You can’t half a$$ ANYTHING. I’m warning you, if you can’t handle that type of expectation, say so now. She’s anal!”

My littlest sis blithely called me “anal retentive” to my face while asking me about planning my shower. She asked if I had a theme in mind, and I gave her my idea (it’s super cute!!! Trust me!!). She kept probing for more, and I told her I was happy to help and give as little or as much input as she wanted. She responded with “I don’t think we’ll need help, I just want to know what you want. You’re really anal retentive about things, so everything has to be on point for your shower. I just want to make sure I do it right”.

THEN, when I was complaining to the middle sis about being called anal she agrees with them. She went so far as to call me “picky”. She’s usually the voice of sanity and reason so I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s not true.

And let’s not mention the fact that my mom sent an email to many of my friends and my family, with this picture:

Oh wait, nevermind, that was the BFF that sent that! Bringing my anal total up to 4 so far.

Recently, someone asked me how the wedding planning was going, and if I’d turned into a “BrideZilla” yet. I was a little offended. Okay, correction: I was REALLY offended. Now I’m starting to worry that I’ll work so hard to not come off like a crazy BrideZilla person that I’ll appear indecisive, nervous, sappy sweet and anxious to please others. In short, a dithery pain in the a$$ kinda bride. I DO NOT WANT TO BE THIS PERSON. It’s against everything I believe in. Lord help me from being that needy pain in the rear end kinda bride. I’d choke myself to death. Hopefully, my OCD/ picky/ anal retentive personality will win out.

If I’m honest with myself I guess I don’t really mind being called “anal retentive”. It’s an annoying descriptive, but probably fairly true. If people label me as such, and treat me in kind, at least I’m setting a level of expectation and will get the things I need without any fuss. I’m really all bark and very little bite, but no one needs to know this. J If I get great service as I’m planning my wedding because they’re all fearful of displeasing me and turning me into a BrideZilla I guess I don’t care. I know I’m not one, and I can’t imagine getting so worked up that I’d throw champagne bottles at my wedding planner’s head. That’s a waste of perfectly good champagne J. Around here we call that “alcohol abuse”.


10 Days – 8 Fears


8 Fears

8. Fear of dying old and alone

This mostly stems from my fear of being unlovable, losing all my friends, and alienating everyone around me. (should I post this as #1?)

7. Fear of heights

What sucks the most about this is that I spent quite a few years as a followspot operator in various theaters and venues… which requires working pretty high up from the ground. Heights still freak me out and probably always will. I get stressed just being on airplanes and usually self-medicate with Benadryl or alcohol.

I always imagine the same scenario: During takeoff for a long flight, I have flashbacks from the first scene of Final Destination where the plane blows up, resulting in me becoming a raving lunatic that turns utterly batshit crazy and getting sucker punched by an overzealous air marshal.

6. Fear of the dark (especially after watching an American Horror Story marathon)

When I was about 8 or 9 years old, I had a babysitter that rather cruelly allowed me to watch Nightmare on Elm Street. I was completely scarred by the image of Johnny Depp getting sucked into the bed, and then spewed out across the ceiling. For years I had the same night ritual: if I needed a drink of water or had to pee in the middle of the night, I’d stand on the edge of my bed and jump to the door, because I was afraid that Freddy Kruger would grab me by the ankles and drag me away. I didn’t sleep in the middle of my bed so it would make it harder for Freddy to suck me in the bed and spew out my guts across the ceiling.

The BBE and I recently started watching American Horror Story, and I have to say, that is one of the scariest shows I’ve seen as an adult (apart from The Human Centipede). It’s brought back that old fear of the dark, that fear that someone is standing behind me, waiting to get me! Last night I went to the bathroom in the dark and scuttled back to my bed, convinced that one of the creepy characters from American Horror Story was lurking in my closet.

5. Fear of being fat forever

For a long time, this was huge secret that I didn’t want to share with anyone. The worst was that, by not speaking it into existence and acknowledging that I had a challenge in front of me, I didn’t do anything about it.

The Get Fit With Nick program has done a LOT to put me in control of my own body. I still feel like I have a long road ahead of me that involves a lot of squats, spinning classes and watching what I eat, but at least I’m doing something about it.  I’m still scared though… at any moment I could just quit trying and slide back into my old habits of doing nothing but being afraid of everything.

4. Fear of death

People say it’s the “next big adventure”… I think it’s the lack of knowing that scares me, fear of existing, fear that maybe I haven’t been good enough in this life to warrant forgiveness and acceptance in the next one… in heaven.

3. Fear of having kids

I want to! But I’m also scared. After listening to stories from all my friends that have had kids, it’s pretty scary/ gross/ painful/ stressful/ difficult. I think, especially in this day and age where old grown men in places of power are dictating what I as a woman should do and should not do with my body (what gives you the RIGHT to tell me what I should do?!?) dealing with healthcare during one of the scariest and most amazing moments in your life really stresses me out. ‘Nuff said 🙂

2. Fear of having kids and then being a bad parent

What if, once I have kids I can’t afford to give them all the things they need or things I want to give them? What if I push them too much or not enough? What if I have rambunctious horrible children that are worthy of their own Supernanny episode? How will I potty train them? Teach them their letters and to not talk to strangers? What if, when they become teenagers I want to choke the life out of them? Being a parent is an awesome responsibility that I’m completely afraid of. Yet I also want to do it. Which possibly makes me crazy?

1. Fear of never accomplishing anything amazing in my lifetime (and/or before the zombie apocalypse/ Rapture)

I want to make my mark on the world. I just have no idea how to do it.

Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever articulated all of these fears to any one person. And now I’m posted them all on the internet.