And lo the bathroom was complete

Monday night marked a significant event in our household. Operation bathroom came to an end, at last. It all started in the summer when we came home from a mini adventure across the country to discover our upstairs neighbour had had a bath (it transpired he'd bathed his dog, even worse) which had drenched our bathroom. The trap was loose, he fixed it, he said.... The leak continued sporadically but still he claimed he'd fixed it, his intonation suggested we were imaging the water dripping through the ceiling, the water behind the tiles, the thick black mould on the wall, the ceiling so wet that Mr T accidentally poked his finger through it . According to our insurance company because he told us he'd fixed it we couldn't claim from his insurance, he "hadn't technically been negligent", the fact we were suffering from the consequential damage meant nothing, it wasn't his fault, apparently - something I am still annoyed about. Incidentally, in November he did finally fix what turned out to be a leaking bath tap, not a loose trap as he claimed. So he hadn't even bothered to fix it properly months before, despite his protestations that he had sorted it.

Anyway, there followed some months of bickering with the insurance company. We got quotes, the quotes were too high, £1,400 was more than they were willing to pay, we argued and argued, they asked the builder to reduce his price by £600, funnily enough he said no. Then there was a third party, who we could pay our excess to, they'd fix only the damaged area and charge the insurance company £700, or the other option was to take a payment from the third party of £950 less our excess and we could do the work ourselves.

So, we could have half a job done for £250, or we could have £700. After a Sunday afternoon pricing up tiles, plasterboard, plaster and various other bits in B&Q we decided to do the job ourselves. It couldn't be that hard, surely? Just a bit of plasterboard and some tiles, nothing too major..... WRONG. It took six weeks, we forgot to take christmas and the small matter of our jobs into consideration. It has been a long hard slog, weeks without a shower was the worst part, I hate baths, they make me panicked. I feel uncomfortable sitting in my own filth. The first shower since December was the cleanest I have ever felt in my life, I felt like I was in a hotel, utter luxury.

There have been arguments along the way, tile spacing, light positions, cupboard positions but we got through it and I have to say Mr T has done a most excellent job, it looks brilliant. He thought we'd have to call in Nick Knowles and his DIY SOS crew at one point, but I had faith in him, I knew he'd manage it. I even had a go at tiling, that's my big achievement, nothing compared to what Mr T has done but still, I tried to help.

We'll sweep aside the incident when I leant on the newly glossed door frame in one of Mr T's hoodys and when I got paint on the window frame. I wasn't a great help, I wish I could've been more use but really I'd have been more of a hinderance, this week I punched myself in the chest while pulling my sleeves up, I'm too inept for DIY.

In saying all of this, I don't know what I find more exciting, the luxury of a fully functioning, decorated bathroom or that Mr T no longer looks like Mr Twit and his beard is no longer visible from behind, in fact, he looks rather handsome now he's finally been able to trim his beard in the bathroom mirror.

Here's some pictures, sadly you can't see my ill advised purchase of a leopard print shower curtain, but still, what you can see is the result of 6 long weeks

The first picture is the underside of the damaged ceiling, who knows how long we'd actually been living with such horrendous mould, in fact, I don't really want to think about it.

Doubling Up

Another wedding based blog, sorry but it's pretty much all I am able to think/talk/stress about, that and a big birthday coming up for Mr T which may well bankrupt me but more of that another time.

I have something on my mind; the concept of not taking Mr T's name. We haven't broached this subject with his parents yet and maybe this is why I am blogging about it, maybe I am trying to get my argument straight just in case there's unrest about it. You see, I'm from a very complicated family with step parents and half siblings all over the place but in this instance I am thinking about the family I grew up with, my Father, Stepmother and my brother. Until last week, when she remarried, only my Stepmother, brother and I shared my Father's surname, if I take Mr T's, I lose that and I just don't want to. I have little left of my father, I don't know where his ashes are, I don't know what happened to any of his possessions, all I have are memories and photographs and, at the moment, his name.I have nothing against Mr T's family and I desparately hope they don't take offence at my choice, Mr T hasn't taken offence, he doesn't care either way, I can't help but worry his parents won't share this view and that his Grandfather won't understand. For me this marriage is about Mr T and I joining together, double barrelling my name seems like the sensible, albeit creating quite a mouthful when saying my full name, option to me. Even my Stepmother has doublebarrelled for her 4th marriage wanting to keep her name as close to my brother's as possible.

I suspect really as is the norm with someone who suffers paranoia about pretty much everything and I am just getting carried away with myself. I think really, if I step back and think about it in actual fact there's nothing for me to be concerned about, his parents aren't draconian and I doubt his Grandfather is likely to care, I am just steeling myself for the disapproval.

When we told them we'd decided to get married I was worried his Mother would automatically assume we would be going to a church, she's a very active member of their local church and I know before his brother married she'd said to his now wife "when you do get married, it will be in my church, won't it?" so I naturally had concerns this was going to happen again. As it happens, it didn't. I told her I hoped she wouldn't mind but we wouldn't be marrying in a church as neither of us are religious and we both felt it would be wrong to begin married life based on vows we did not believe in. I was so relieved, I had all but convinced myself she would be disappointed, which for me wouldn't matter but I was concerned for Mr T, he wouldn't want to upset his parents, I am sure. Still, I am worried it will be considered some sort of snub, not only have I been responsible for their son moving 15 miles away from home but now I am willing to take their contribution (they offered, we didn't expect/ask for it) towards the wedding but I won't take their name.

Look what I've done now, I've convinced myself again they're going to be annoyed about my decision. Well done me. I'm just going to not say anything till it comes up, if it's broached now it will look like it's an issue, won't it? Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh.

Wedding Bore (again)

Well who knew choosing a wedding dress could be such a stressful experience? I don't know whether it was naive of me to think it'd be fun but it really wasn't.

Last week my best friend / chief bridesmaid, C and I went dress shopping. I spent what felt like a lifetime but was probably more like an hour standing around in a changing room wearing only my underwear and the shoes belonging to the shop while a stranger, and later another friend's Mum, put me into huge, heavy dresses. Once I'd been zipped, buttoned and/or corseted up into each dress came the part I dreaded the most. Staring at myself in the mirror. Whenever I try clothes on I don't look at the whole image in the mirror, my eye goes straight to my middle. How fat do I look? Do I look like I have hips? Does it make me look bigger or smaller? Do I even know how big or small I look ordinarily? (The answer to that last one is probably not). So, with each dress C and the assistant waited patiently while I stared and stared and stared. I don't even know how many dresses I tried on, they all just blurred into each other, each one drawing attention to some part or other that I hated. All except one, the One. Then as we were getting ready to leave I spotted another, I tried that on, it was as good as the One, torn I left the shop but not before my friend's Mum had taunted me with another dress which we didn't have time to try. Since last Wednesday I have thought of little else other than the One, I am going back in a week and a half to try the One again and the other I hadn't had time to try. All this for a sodding dress.

I have two problems here. One stems from the eating disorder, I don't see what everyone else sees, as C told me I'm too critical, she's right, I looked for fault in how I looked in every single dress I tried, I do it with every item of clothing I own, it's just this time the decision really, really matters. Which brings me onto my next problem, I can't make decisions. When it's something important I can't decide, I know my own mind but then, when it comes to giving a definitive yes or no, I can't do it. I worry that I will say yes and then something better will come along or something will go wrong, I say no and then wish I hadn't, I'd rather behave in the manner of the proverbial Ostrich and bury my head in the sand. On the one hand I am quite spur of the moment, I'll say yes to something not having given it enough consideration, but then later on when I think about it I find myself trying to come up with ways to get out of it. I agree to go to someone's house for dinner out of politeness, I can't say no, then I remember I can't bring myself to eat in public and that I will spend at least a week before and a week after the event panicking about whatever I have ingested. This is different, I am picking a dress which will cost more than anything else I own (other than my house) it has to be right, but I can't decide if it is or not and nobody else can make that decision for me. I'm always 0.1% unsure of any decision, this is no different.

I don't even want to think about the rest of the decisions coming my way in the next 18 months, there's bridesmaid's dresses, suits, invitations, cake, flowers, seating plans, the list is endless, it's making me feel a little bit sick just thinking about it.

Odd Balls in the Gym

I know I have blogged before about fellow gym goers but just lately there have been yet more strange goings on....

One of the older men recently told me he's been taking slimming tablets to get rid of this (as he pats his belly)... They seem to have turned him insane, he laughs a lot anyway but it's got worse since he's been taking them, I swear he's actually been sold speed because he acts very much in the manner of someone off their face in a club only he's not in a club, he's on a treadmill, shouting at me.

There was a man a week or so ago wearing only one shoe whilst he 'pumped some iron' the other foot was in a cast. Surely that's not ideal gym wear.

Speaking of which, last week I looked on in amazement as the instructor informed the girl on the next but one treadmill to me that her gladiator sandals were inappropriate for going for a run in. A day or so later I mentioned said girl, in passing, to the instructor, apparently she was quite put out he had the audacity to suggest that health and safety regulations ruled out the wearing of sandals and argued with him that "they let me in my gym" - I suggested the instructor should have responded with "well maybe you should go there then".

Last night a girl tried to use the weights machine which strengthens your back and instead of having the cushioned part behind her shoulders she had it in front of her face. Thankfully she was wearing the seat belt so she wasn't in complete danger. I'd love to know which muscle she thought that would work.

Sometimes, I really do think I am the only normal one in there.

Wedding Bore

This is difficult, this evening I am going to view some wedding venues, in secret of course because we still haven't got round to telling our families yet. I don't know why it's become such an issue, I find it difficult to comprehend that they will be particularly interested, afterall it isn't them getting married, it's Mr T and I.

We viewed two venues at the weekend, both owned by the same company, both on the same road, radically different in price for good reason. I feel as if we're going to have to really rethink our budget, the first place we saw was double the cost of the second place. The first had beautiful terraced gardens and enormous rooms furnished with antiques. The second did not have gardens of any sort but did have small rooms furnished antiques. I loved the first place, my bank balance, however, did not.

I fear I am going to have to sell a kidney

Still here

I have just had nothing of any note to say at all. Still don't.

Well, actually that's not entirely true, I do, I have a secret only 3 people know (not strictly a secret, I know).

Mr T has given in, he says this isn't the correct way to put it but I think it is, I have harped on so long that I've broken the poor chap. He's finally decided after ten years together he might actually marry me. It's strange, I've been thinking about the wedding for a good deal of the time we've been together but that's all it's been, idle thoughts about my dress, who would give me away, bridesmaids, where to sit our families who have never actually met each other before, that sort of thing. Only now, it might just happen, it's actually quite a scary prospect.

It's peculiar, all these plans I've had in my head for years are now going to have to be put into practice. Not to mention all the elements I haven't thought much about, bouquets, button holes, mothers' corsages - all three of them. I've had to email venues, ask them if I can have brochures, when can I view them. The day dreaming is now becoming a reality and quite frankly it is terrifying.

I suspect I will be a fully fledged Bridezilla, as my already appointed chief bridesmaid and Mr T have both declared. At least they're both braced for a good year and a bit of panicked anger from me. I know I will be a nightmare but then I am a control freak.

So anyway, we have decided to keep the nuptials quiet for the moment, until at least a venue and date are definite, I fear interference from either family will cause issues so it is for the best. Keeping quiet is killing me, I'd like to be able to chat to friends about it but I can't just in case a family member finds out via a third party. I know his mother will want to bring up the church issue, something I stand firm on, it's not happening, I don't believe in it so I'm not going to begin a marriage based upon lies. My mother will just generally want to be involved, she wasn't a part of my two older sisters' weddings and I have a feeling she'll try to compensate with this one, it's not happening either. As for stepmum, I don't think she'll interfere, she's not like the other two, thankfully.

The day Mr T suggested it, we had friends over, one of them said she wished someone would get married and demanded another friend married her other half, I wanted to say something then but I couldn't, only my best friend/closest confidant and her husband know this secret. Then a day or so later I nearly told another friend but then she mentioned her and her husband were planning a trial separation so that immediately stopped me in my tracks, I couldn't be that insensitive.

I'm going to crack, I just know I am. This is why I am writing this blog, just to get these thoughts out without talking to Mr T or my confidant, I don't want her thinking I've turned into a total wedding bore which I probably will do at some point over the next few months.

Right, in future, don't read my blogs, they will be wedding based which is highly likely to cause drowsiness.

Observation

One lunch time week as I walked back to the office through the local shopping precinct I saw a mobile anti-smoking unit, there were posters emblazoned all over it advising shoppers to quit. All around the unit were benches, upon every bench sat a smoker, puffing away in the sunshine......