August, 2012

Aug 12

Nightmares, throaty giggles and Celine Dion

I haven’t been up to much at the moment aside from planning my wedding as it’s very near now! I never imagined the insane amount of planning that goes into these dos, right down to trivialities like the colour of napkin holders or the right angles to place chairs at – it’s completely ridiculous! Thankfully my wedding planner Danielle Nay of Transformers Event Planning does it for a living so that’s taken a lot of the stress away, but not quite all of it!


The most exciting part of the whole wedding planning experience  has definitely been designing my wedding dresses (yes, plural!) with a few of my close designer friends. I’m not going to spill the beans on who they are now, as that would ruin the surprise, but the level of craftsmanship, love and dedication that has come from realising my dream dresses from some extremely shoddily drawn sketches (art is not my forte!) is amazing and I’m beyond excited to finally try them on.

I’m starting to panic a little as one of the dresses has only just begun being made, and the other still isn’t finished, meaning I’m yet to see either of the finished pieces. I have been having weird nightmares about them arriving half done; last night’s nightmare involved my dress falling apart at the altar and me ending up naked except for strategically placed bunches of grapes – I have no idea what that means?! Meanwhile Tom has been scouring shops for a vintage tie and shoes to add to his (also custom designed) black wedding suit.

The one thing non-wedding related that has been taking up nearly all of my time at the moment is Astala. He’s just turned 5 months old and is perhaps the cutest baby of all time. He’s definitely the smiliest one I’ve ever encountered with the cheekiest grin and funniest, throaty giggle. His favourite thing to do is for me to hold him in front of the mirror so that he can see himself and me, then laugh at the funny faces I pull at him so hard that he has a coughing fit and then, inevitably, proceeds to start bawling.

Astala is at that age when he will not tolerate being left on his own without you amusing him and giving him my undivided attention. If I even dare to break eye contact from his lordship he goes absolutely mental and shouts until I’m back to sing Celine Dion and Liza Minelli show tunes to him, and if I sing anything else he isn’t having any of it. (He also seems to have a very acquired taste in music at the moment!) Astala is also finding his own voice, and by that I mean he thinks talking is shrieking at an unholy decibel until you shriek back at him, in a sort of shrieking conversation. However, it’s very cute.

Astala has also been getting a bit naughty by trying to stay up much later than his 7pm bed time, which has resulted in Tom resorting to running around the kitchen table in circles with Astala in the sling, trying to get him to sleep that way. We realised that it was due to his napping too much during the day and we have now reached a happy nap-to-waking ratio, which means less night time partying for baby and more time sleeping for us, thank God. He loves to drift off in my arms watching his favourite show, Night Time Relax on Baby TV, and his little sleeping face looks like so angelic it’s almost too much to handle.

Last weekend Tom played Reading and Leeds festivals last weekend so I left Astala with his Grandma Sue (Tom’s mum) for the day to head down to Reading with his dad and sister to watch him play. Honestly, I felt like a 90 year old. Everyone there was about 15 and drunk out of their minds on illicitly snuck in booze (stolen from Daddy’s cabinet at home, I’m sure).



Everywhere you turned there was another denim micro-short-sporting tween throwing up whilst their equally wasted school friend held back her hair. Topless boys showing off pigeon chests with swearwords lipsticked on them strutted around totally disinterested in any bands, whilst their identikit Topshop-clad female counterparts set fire to unsuspecting revellers tents. Horrendous!

This week is a special one as I’ve got my maid of honour Lily’s wedding coming up on Saturday. It’s so nice that she’s getting married just before me as it makes our bond as friends even stronger with us both experiencing such life altering events and going through the same process with each other. Lily’s having her wedding in her hometown of Hastings, where I met her when I was around 8 years old, to a man she met whilst living in New York where she originally moved to live with me! The fact that she would never have met her fiancé Victor if I hadn’t convinced her to move there is really special for me as her friend. She’s wearing a vintage 1930s wedding dress and will look beautiful. It’s 9.30pm now which is way past my bed time these days (don’t judge me, I get up at 6 am everyday!) so it’s off to bed now, will be back soon…

Aug 12

Summer sunshine and wedding flowers

I’m currently on holiday in Spain and it’s lovely to get away from rainy old London. If there’s one thing I miss about not living in L.A anymore it’s the constant warm weather and sunshine. Being here in this boiling little village is making me nostalgic for the sun-baked Hollywood hills all over again.

But there’s one little person who isn’t really enjoying the heat, and that’s Astala. He’s four months old now and getting bigger by the minute! At 17lbs he’s a big, tall baby and making my arms ache carrying him down to the beach, but his chubby little legs are so cute and that I can’t stop cuddling him either way, so I guess its a win win situation for both of us!

It’s 40 degrees here and Astala just lies on a sun lounger in the shade with the funniest expression on his face, a sort of half-asleep zombie trance kind of look. I think it’s all a bit too much for him, though he occasionally breaks into random giggles if he sees Pixie’s tiny chihuahua puppy Buster Sniff running around insanely, soaking wet after falling into the pool for the ninetieth time that day.

It’s always great coming here each year, as my family have since I was a baby, and seeing the close friends who I grew up with here who also return every summer, and how their lives have changed. Coming here with a baby and fiancé this year, my life seems to have altered the most. I feel like an old granny when I fall asleep at 8pm, exhausted from the baby’s 6am daily wake up call. Or when I walk in on my 16-year-old sister Tiger still asleep in bed at 3pm, having partied with her friends here all night long.

Before flying out here, Tom and I went to the Dark Knight Rises premiere. It’s had mixed reviews but we both really enjoyed it, though maybe we liked it more because it meant a few hours out past 7pm! In all seriousness though, I thought it was a perfect climax to Christopher Nolan’s dark, ambitious trilogy. Nolan pretty much saved Batman from becoming associated forever with ludicrously terrible spin off movies, and turned a tired comic book franchise around into something that has now transcended the genre and turned it into something very special.

With its heavily political agenda, Dark Knight Rises was at risk of being boring and clunky, but is saved by a great script and an even better cast. As expected from a Nolan movie, the set pieces are suitably extravagant and used to great effect in some truly jaw dropping scenes of Gotham city’s destruction at the hands of mercenaries. There are some glaringly obvious problems with this movie that just weren’t there at all in the far superior second film – it’s overlong and by the end of the movie my bum was well and truly numb and I felt physically drained by it.

The most bizarre and annoying issue of all though is Tom Hardy, in my opinion one of the best actors around, who is so wasted in his role as Bane. The totally unnecessary mask he wears covers most of his face and renders any emotion completely indistinguishable, and anything he says sounds muffled to the point of inaudibility. Also, Christian Bale’s Batman voice is ludicrous, a sort of ‘trying and failing to be sexy’ half-whisper, and was unintentionally funny at key moments. Aside from that, it was a suitably epic ending to a brilliant set of films.

Wedding wise I recently chose the flowers. I wanted them to look like the sort of flowers that bloom randomly in fields or at the side of roads, wild and not overdone. I also chose some floral wreaths for the bridesmaids hair, and a collar adorned with flowers for my dog Parpy so he wasn’t left out! A reporter asked me recently if my dad was going to play my wedding. Of course he’s not going to! I don’t understand why people would assume that he would, though to be honest the reporter probably got forced to ask me by his boss. It’s the sort of inane question tabloids love to ask even if they already know the answer. If my dad played at my wedding I think everyone would find it massively uncomfortable, can you get more cheesy than your father serenading you and your husband with a medley of his greatest hits? I’d have nightmares forever!

Tom and I are enjoying the time we have before we become husband and wife, but both of us are so excited about how close the wedding is now. Tom told me he had a dream the other night that we got married on a boat that was attached to our dog’s collar and then flew us to Mars to live there. I wonder what that even means?!

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