
bridal gown designer - the operator at SingTel's telephone directory assistance gave me the wrong number, for another bridal company instead! and boy, oh, boy do i love him [other than the fact that i think he caught a glimpse of my titties by accident, no no, this does not qualify as one of life's best accidental thingies]. he is friendly, somewhat wacky, very sincere, kind and absolutely accommodating to my unimaginable colour co-ordination and last-minute 'hey, i was walking and found myself downstairs, here, you know, at your door, can you let me in?' walk-in appointments. i'm the cloud on his silver lining [no pun to his company's name intended].
the painful initial stress of planning a wedding is almost over. except for one; father is forcing the very unfavourable idea of placing a wedding dias [yes, eyes popping out and fingers swelling as i'm typing w-e-d-d-i-n-g-d-i-a-s on keyboard] on us. we are both extremely uncomfortable with the idea although only few tasteless people might insist on taking pictures on the wedding dias.
i mean, OUR WEDDING IS IN A GARDEN FOR GOF'S SAKE [yes, gof]. LOTS OF BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS AND GREENERY TO TAKE PICTURES OF BUT NOOOOOO, we take it on a fake wooden plankish, new paint smellish platform.
i am not a wax model! he is not a subject!
we are people, that's right, p-e-o-p-l-e. not... not subjects. we are not that huge golden buddha you pose with on an elevated platform, we are h-u-m-a-n-b-e-i-n-g-s.
i am embarassed. a new war has started. all over a freaking d-i-e-s, yes, diEs.