I have spent the weekend looking at wedding gowns. My taste in style has gone from relaxed to elegant, and I’m not sure where it stands right now. I’ve decided that there’s nothing like wedding dress shopping to make you feel heavier. For example, wedding dresses run 1 to 2 sizes small, so when you’re actually a 10, you should be trying on a 12 or 14 size dress. I think this is a mean trick to play on brides. It’s their biggest day, they’ve been dreaming about it all their lives (well most of them), they’re probably already stressed about trying to find THE perfect gown at THE perfect price (and wondering where to compromise), and now the dress making industry decides to slap them in the face by putting size numbers that are too big on the dresses. I know, it’s a psychological thing. I just all my life assumed I was small… and now I’m learning that I can only wear an empire waist so as not to draw any attention to my hips (which, I’ve discovered, look ugly due to my scoliosis). I’m also learning that I can’t wear my mom’s wedding dress (which would make things so much simpler and cheaper) because it’s too small on me. Not to mention that this shopping is bringing out two sides of my personality: the carefree, happy-go-lucky, run-in-the-meadows Ashley and the elegant, grown-up, simple-yet-tasteful Ashley. These two sides are in conflict with one another and I can’t decide what I want most. I only have one shot at this…

On a happier note, I got to drive the convertible today. That was exciting. Of course I only drove it from the driveway to the street, but that’s not important. I will drive it someday, I know I will. And I will have fun doing it. Maybe Paul will come down and we can go to the beach and I can pretend I’m cool. Or maybe another friend will come down and I’ll get to do the same thing. Or maybe… I’ll just do it by myself and try to impress all the strangers around me… *sigh*

It gets lonely around here.