T-minus 365 Days

This time next year it will be our wedding day.

Jon was quite surprised when I told him it was only a year away. But Jon was also quite surprised when he discovered he was turning 26 this year, not 25 as he'd previously thought, and that next week was November, so perhaps he's not the greatest litmus test of how quickly it feels like this has come around.

This feels like a good place for a gif, but I don't really have one that suits this situation, so have this instead. I imagine this is what happened in Jon's brain when I told him how far away the wedding was.

That said, having discovered that the wedding is now only a year away, Jon has become somewhat less curmudgeonly in the discussion of wedding planning. Nothing like a bit of pressure, gently applied, to grease the wheels of cooperation.


What we have done so far
- Church
- Reception venue and food
- Photographer
- Dress
- My wedding ring


What we have to do
- Flowers, because flowers
- Cake, because cake
- Music, because otherwise we might have to talk to people
- Jon's wedding ring so he has something else to lose around the house other than his watch
- Jon's suit so he is not naked
- Bridesmaids dresses so they are also not naked
- I should probably have some shoes too, don't want to turn up to church looking like that episode of Sex and the City where Carrie gets mugged for her shoes.*

 Can you believe no-one had made a gif of this already? I'd expect one with the caption "Somebody stop him, he stole my strappy sandals!" But nope. For shame, internet. For shame.

*Yes, I am thoroughly ashamed of myself for making a reference to Sex and the City, however I only know about it because I worked at Blockbuster whilst I was at University and got free rentals, and was alone for like three weeks over the summer, so I watched it all, but only because it was free.

What we have to do, continued
- We should probably work out who we are inviting to this shindig at some point
- And I guess we should make and send them invitations so they know where and when they should turn up
- Also maybe we should make a table plan so they know where they are sitting for dinner, and so no vegetarians end up with a very meaty meal
- and there is probably some other stuff we should do as well, but when I get to this point in the list I start to drift a bit and get distracted.


Part of the reason I get lost towards the end of the list is because then it all becomes variables and things that will be longer and more complex to do. I want to get things done, but I want to get the quick-and-easy things done first. Flowers, boom. Cake, boom. DJ, boom boom shake the room. That sort of thing.



Basically I want to put off the difficult bits for as long as possible. Procrastination makes the world go round! Eventually!

Flower Power

This week I am not talking to Jon about the wedding. Whilst I'm actually pretty good at not obsessing over it or bringing it up loads and loads, or handle bits myself so he doesn't have to, sometimes I have to actually talk to Jon about things. This is exacerbated by the fact that he says he wants to be involved, and then when I try to involve him he gets fidgety and tries to get out of it. Every time I ask him to think about something that he needs to decide on (when he wants to get his ring/when he wants to get his suit/where he wants to stay the night before the wedding) he laughs and tells me that I think way too much about the wedding.

I promise there's a reason I'm telling you this.


On Sunday, I got a text from his best man's fiancee, asking what the plan was for the night before the wedding, so they could think about their plans, and Jon followed my question up by telling me that I couldn't go one week without talking to him about the wedding.

So this week I'm not talking to him about it.

But I am talking to other people about it (although actually to be fair, it's this blog and one email, so not exactly masses), just not in front of him, and it's winding him up. Serves him right.

Tangentially, our latest wedding project has been trying to get the flowers sorted.

This has proved particularly tricky, because I am certain that I would like real flowers, and have an idea of the colours and sort-of look I'm going for, but aside from that, I'm rather clueless.

And it transpires that flowers, as with everything 'wedding', are freaking EXPENSIVE guys.
 

But Jon and I had discussed this, we had planned to do it as cheaply as we could whilst still going the florist route to alleviate stress. The lady who does the flowers for the church was going to do our church decorations, and we were going to do our own table decorations for the reception, since it's a very decorative venue anyway. So all we really needed from the florist were the flowers that people were going to be carrying/wearing, and we specifically requested seasonal flowers.

- 1 Bridal Bouquet
- 4 Bridesmaid Bouquets
- 1 Flowergirl Wand
- 9 Boutineers (in Carnations as well, which are both the cheapest and Jon's favourite)
- 2 Corsages for mothers

WELL.

WELL.

The first florist seemed like she gave us a really great deal, until we worked out that yes, it was indeed just for the flowers that people would be wearing.

After that, I took a day and blitzed around other florists in the area, getting comparative quotes. I was doing well, things were looking promising, until Jon then blindsided me a week later by saying he thought we were going to be getting flowers for the tables AS WELL AS making our own decorations.

This is not a huge deal, but does mean that I have to go back to the places we got the cheapest quotes from and go "Plans have changed, how much will it be for THIS instead?" and then compare prices on an even keel.


Of course, this also means that I need to talk to Jon about what specifically he likes as table decorations so I can get an accurate idea from the florists.


Oh, but I'm not talking to Jon about the wedding this week.


FULL CIRCLE STORY. BOOM.

Smile for the Camera

Probably the HARDEST CHOICE that we've had to make so far in the wedding planning has been the photographer. And having seen the way I flapped and faffed over just about every decision so far, I feel like this should put it in perspective.

Photography was basically the second most important thing on our list after the venue, so it felt like the pressure was very much on to Get It Right. This lead to some intensive research and listing of pros-and-cons and generally trying to make a decision.

Eventually, we narrowed it down to three photographers. The next step was - as every website, magazine, forum and blog to do with weddings ever informed us - to meet with each one to taking a closer look at their work, and get to know them a little to see if you could work with them, and discuss pricing options.

What these places all neglected to tell you was that once you have met someone face-to-face for something like this, you become somewhat emotionally invested. There is now a personal element involved, to add to the difficulty of making the decision. You're not just turning down a website, or a building, or a dress, which obviously none of those things have feelings so why would they care anyway? You're turning down a person, who has sat in your living room and done their very best to sell themselves to you at their greatest, they've drunk a cup of tea with you, and all in all been very lovely. And then you have to turn around and ultimately reject them LIKE A HEARTLESS BITCH.

 

We were in some ways very fortunate that our top three photographers were all very good at what they did, and were all very personable and generally a fantastic roster. Unfortunately this made the choice much more difficult. I could have had any one of them as my photographer and my wedding photographs would still be awesome. I told them that I would be happy to recommend any of them to people I know, and it's true, so find below:


1)  JEMS Photography 
These guys were one of the first we came across, having discovered them through a contest in a wedding magazine (which we didn't win, natch). We met John, the primary photographer, at a couple of wedding fairs as well and he was always cheerful, professional and very easy to talk to. He's known particularly in our area for this amazing night shots and use of light.

Images copyright JEMS Photography. For more examples, check out his website, or facebook page.


2)  Andrew Ward Photography 
 I loved how bright and exciting the colours were in Andrew's work. He manages to make everything seem very bold and cheerful, and that was what drew me to him in the first place. He was very friendly and confident, and brought so much to show us when he came to visit, and was really great at putting us at ease. His detail shots were what particularly caught my eye, and how dynamic everything seemed.

Images copyright Andrew Ward. To see more visit his website, or his facebook page.


3) Jon Thorne Photography
Jon was a really friendly man, and came across as very gentle and respectful, whilst knowing exactly what to do. Unlike the previous two, Jon didn't offer an engagement shoot, but this was something that actually appealed to my Jon (this could get confusing...), who hates having his photograph taken at the best of times. His photographs have some amazing textures in them, and he had experience with the types of venues we were working with, so he clearly knew what he was doing. We also really loved his dramatic skies!

Images copyright Jon Thorne. For more, check out his website or facebook page.



I cannot express how difficult it was to choose between these three photographers, and it was even harder working up the guts to email the ones we didn't choose. No-one likes giving bad news, and this further confirmed that I would SUCK as a judge on the X-Factor.

We went with Jon Thorne, by the way, and I'm super excited about working with him. Of course, given that our engagement is lengthy enough to produce 1.7 sperm whales, obviously it's been a while since we last spoke to him. And we're not due to meet with him again until a month before the wedding. Which in some ways actually means that it currently feels a little anticlimactic after the intense stress of actually choosing a photographer. OH WELL.


Did you struggle to choose any of your vendors? How did you cope with telling people you'd gone with someone else?

looming ever closer

Last Wednesday, the 25th, marked 13 months exactly until the wedding.


Last night I had a wedding-related nightmare.

Ugh, I know. I feel ridiculous even saying it. I feel even more ridiculous that it wasn't even my first wedding-related dream, although to be fair the first one was months ago and nowhere near as upsetting. That just involved my slow realisation that my dress was not my dress as I was wearing it, and also forgetting to put my makeup on before leaving the house, so trying to frantically do it in the car outside the church, but discovering I'd left my makeup bag at home.


You may notice a theme, as the dream I had last night involved us - and that's everyone at the wedding - forgetting to go to the reception. That's right. In my dream we got married, and were having a party in this blank, soulless room, and I found myself thinking "Why is the atmosphere so flat? Why is no-one more excited?"

And then I rationalised with myself, in my pragmatic dream way. "It must just be because you've been building it up in your head for so long, expecting it to be this amazing event, and it's to be expected that it isn't going to live up to all that in reality." So I was a little disappointed, but soldiered on.

But! On the drive home, I realised exactly why everything had felt so lame. Somehow all of us - every single person there - had forgotten to go to our reception venue. I got very upset, insisted that we try and go back and actually use the venue. But it was too late, the day was over, and no-one would let us go and do it again. I was somewhat distraught.

I think I must have woken up slightly at this point and gone back to sleep again, because the next thing I knew we were at our actual venue and having an amazing reception, and not only that but they'd laid on this amazing entertainment for us that involved acrobats and clowns and glitter confetti. I think my subconscious was trying to apologise for upsetting me.


But yes, my knowledge of myself and my family has built into me this innate belief that something, something integral will be forgotten and we'll have to turn around to go get it, or we'll realise way too late and just have to carry on. Obviously this has swelled in my mind to express itself in forgetting to even attend the wedding, but that perhaps just demonstrates exactly how sure my subconscious is that I'll forget something on the day, despite my Spreadsheet Of Doom, and despite whatever ghastly checklist I'll set up for myself for the week before. All I can really hope to do is liberally distribute copies of this list to my nearest and dearest and hope that they're paying attention, which is not, in reality, their strong suit when it comes to organising things. I appear to be something of an aberration in my immediate family in terms of my desire to have clear plans well in advance. (okay yes I don't necessarily manage to follow them super well, but that is just another reason for my subconscious to flail until the day arrives).

I can only hope these dreams don't get more frequent, and more involved as we get closer to the date!



Did any of you have wedding nightmares? Did they come true?

12 Months Served

So, yesterday marked 1 year since Jon proposed to me. I'm a little shocked by how quickly it's gone, which I'm fully aware sounds trite and cliched, but in my defence, we did move house over the Summer, so that basically knocked about three months straight out of the Calendar.

Of course, when I say 'yesterday', I actually mean Sunday 15th, which from where I'm sitting as I'm writing now (Wednesday 11th) is four days away. I'm telling you this, and thus removing the air of mystery from my blog posts, because I know I'm going to get my timelines all muddled up at some point, so I figured full disclosure from the outset was probably best.

(I've also been up since 4:30am to drop Jon at the airport, and so I've been up for like 5 hours and it's not even 10am, and I've been in work for three hours, except I couldn't get into the building until 7:00am so I sat in the car park for an hour before that, and I hurt my foot opening a door like an hour and a half ago and it's still sore, so this might not be very coherent at all. But let's just have fun with it.)

Now, I spend a lot of time skulking around over on the forums at Weddingbee, which are nice and active. (I actually found them because Jon spent time lurking on there trying to get tips on engagement rings in the run up to our engagement - ever the academic, putting hours of research in!) There is a huge subsection of this forum dedicated to people who are 'waiting' to be engaged. This is not a concept that I had ever come across prior to Weddingbee, and I will admit I'm still not sure on what people mean when they say they've been "waiting for x number of years". Is that how long it's been since they and their partner talked about getting married one day? Or is it the length of the whole relationship? And if it's the length of the whole relationship, does that mean that they've literally been waiting for their partner to propose since their first date? What about just enjoying the relationship? Does it not count in its own right? Is it literally all about getting married?

I'd rather hoped society had moved past the idea that all women need is a husband, doesn't matter who, by now. And that relationships were all equally valid whether they were legally certified or not, so 'waiting' was a redundant concept, that was demeaning to both parties involved, and seemed to be tragically reminiscent of eras long gone.


But I'm getting off-topic. My point is that I wasn't one of those girls who was constantly expecting a proposal. In fact, to say that the proposal was unexpected feels too mild, too understated to describe exactly the state of mind I was in when it happened. I was so set and comfortable in my life and relationship as was, and I don't take surprises very well at all, so my reaction was definitely less-than-dignified.

 

Fortunately Jon knows me well enough not to take my reactions personally, and also to know that I am easily distracted by shiny things so the beautiful ring he chose helped very much to take my mind off my anxieties from time-to-time.

Because by god I was anxious. I'd had this sudden change in status thrust upon me with no preparation, no warning! Jon had been planning for months, he had some idea, but me? I was entirely passive in this situation - a victim of a drive-by proposing! Shell-shocked and unbalanced, and utterly panicked.

How can I explain it? There were multiple issues at play. Firstly anxieties about this sudden 'change' in our relationship. It was silly because I knew I was committed to this man and had no desire to leave him, but suddenly getting a ring made it all seem very official and public. Another cause of anxiety was that I dreaded people commenting on it - I wasn't expecting bad comments at all, but we've kept our relationship very low-key and downplay it a lot. We're totally different people in private, honestly we're obnoxious, but in public we're much more reserved - which is how I think it should be! The private parts of my relationship are like my underwear: essential, always there, supportive and something that I'll invest in, but just as I'll never be comfortable showing my lovely matching bra-and-knickers off in public, the idea of making this part of our relationship public property for however long it took for the excitement to blow over made me want to squirm. Whilst I'm certain I'd probably get some compliments on my underwear (set I'm wearing provided - I have, if I may say so, excellent taste, but not necessarily the money to indulge it), I'm not about to run it up the flagpole and see who salutes; so knowing that we'd only get good reactions to our engagement didn't make me any keener to shout it from the rooftops.

Another issue was perhaps this inbuilt fear of aging and that getting married required a level of maturity I did not possess. The 'reasons I'm not mature enough to get married' strips are only the tip of the iceberg. Marriage has always felt like a 'some time in the future' sort of thing, when I felt like I'd achieved the fabled status of 'Grown Up'. I still feel like I don't know what's happening half the time. I struggle to keep on top of my laundry. I like pick-and-mix way too much, and I get frustrated at museums when little kids hog all the interactive displays and I can't have a go. Jon can always tell when I've been watching TV during the day because he comes home and it's set to a cartoon channel. I got annoyed when kids pushed in front of me in the queue at Disneyland so I didn't get to meet Belle, because when I got to the front of the queue they swapped her out for Beast - if I have to queue, why don't they? (I'm also compiling a lengthy list on why I'm not mature enough to ever reproduce, but we'll get to that later)

 But also the terrifying thing about 'some day' becoming 'today' means that all the things that previously followed 'some day' in a vague way are now in front of me in an inevitable timeline that has made me staggeringly aware of my own mortality and how quick life disappears in front of us, something which I had been comfortably denying to myself for years. Basically, now I'm going to grow old and die and it's all Jon's fault.

Part of my motivation for starting The W Word in the first place was because I felt frustrated that in the midst of this anxiety, all I could find were posts about how wonderful and amazing it was to be engaged (which yes, it is nice) and women who were giddy and happy and laughed and shrieked and danced. Not women who swore and got drunk and hid their ring in their bag when they first went back to work after the proposal because they didn't want people to see and say something. I know there are other girls out there who have felt engagement anxiety and GUYS: YOU'RE NOT ALONE. Wedding culture can easily make anyone with doubts and nerves feel like an alien or an outsider (unless you're a man, in which case it seems to be expected and nigh on encouraged) I wanted to do this post because I'd felt a bit like my initial reason for this had been lost in the year since the engagement, because my anxieties about being engaged have settled, but my motivation was to help other people facing this.


I perhaps didn't deal with my anxieties in the healthiest way. I acknowledged them, and then I forced myself to push out of my comfort zone, anxieties be damned. Like tearing off a plaster. What helped though was the realisation that nothing had changed between Jon and I. We didn't have to start treating each other differently, we didn't magically feel different because suddenly I had some bling. Nor, fundamentally, did my relationship with the world at large change. And continuity is a lovely calming thing.

Now, I know myself, and I know that the closer we get to the big day the more likely I am to have a bit of an anxiety flare-up. And not in a cute, demure blushing bride sort of way. More like in a climbing out of the bathroom window and running for the hills sort of way.

But I'm talking about it - and talking helps, even if I'm just cracking jokes. Because that means I'm not just bottling it all up and letting the pressure build and build until I pop.


This post ended up in a totally different place from what I had initially, vaguely planned in my sleep-deprived brain.

Did anyone else suffer from Engagement Anxiety? If you have, how did you overcome it? Have you overcome it yet? This is a safe space!

literary couples with healthy relationships

After the drama and depression of my last three posts, I felt a nice epilogue would be to celebrate the couples in literature who it would actually be super to have a relationship like.

Claire's Guide to Awesome Fictional Relationships which Get It Right

 Jane Bennet and Mr Bingley (Pride and Prejudice)

Okay, so Elizabeth and Mr Darcy are of course my OTP4EVA, and also not too bad in the healthly relationship stakes really, but Bingley and Jane get it so right all the time and are just about the loveliest and fluffiest of all couples ever that they need to be appreciated.

In that gif right there, see that? See the size of Mr Bingley's grin? How it even makes grumpy Mr Darcy smile a bit? That is because Bingley is the HAPPIEST MAN ON THE PLANET. He has so much love and joy in him that he is basically the closest a human being will ever come to being a puppy. And he falls in love, from the very beginning, with Jane, because she is sweet and beautiful and ladylike, and he falls even more in love with her because she is so kind and gentle. And she falls in love with him because he's kind and generous and enthusiastic and happy and gentlemanly, and all those good things.

And rather than trying to force things or rush things so she can 'trap' a rich man into marriage, Jane instead lets things progress naturally, doesn't fake anything, and Bingley isn't discouraged at all - not even having met her disaster of a family. Until everyone else tells him she obviously doesn't like him. But does he kill himself? Does he lollop about the place? Nope, he continues to be very much as he is, polite and lovely. He even manages to still be polite and happy to see Jane again, even though he's hurt. 

And the same for Jane - all she does is wish him well, and all she does is look for good in the people around her.

The thing that makes them even happier as well, is how much happiness their relationship gives other people. It's like a feedback loop of love and happiness, and it's wonderful. Look at them sneaking peeks at each other during their wedding. It's the cutest thing ever. (And yes we are only considering gifs from the BBC adaptation because the 2005 movie is so many kinds of wrong I can't even start)

See also: Elinor and Edward, from Sense and Sensibility.

See also also: this gif is making me laugh so much.

Noddy and Henrietta Boffin (Our Mutual Friend)

Ah the Boffins. Noddy and Henrietta. When we meet them, they've been married for many years. They were poor, worked on the dust heaps - piles of poo and rubbish, to you and I - as servants to a miser who dies at the start of the book. When his son, John Harmon, is found dead, they inherit all his money. And it's a fair amount of money. But their ambitions?

"...a good house in a good neighbourhood, good things about us, good living, and good society. I say, live like our means, without extravagance, and be happy."

And a desire to adopt an orphan boy to raise as their own, to benefit from their new wealth and to care for, as they have no children. And to make amends to Bella Wilfer - John Harmon's bethrothed, who they have never met, but whose money they now have. These are good people, starkly aware of their good fortune and wishing to share it with others, and begrudge nothing.

They move out of the dust heap. The night before they leave, Henrietta becomes scared by visions she's having of Ex-Mr Harmon, and his son who they cared for as a boy. Noddy comforts her, takes her around the whole place with a lantern until she is satisfied. But even though she can still see the ghosts, she takes comfort from her husband.

"Opening her eyes again, and seeing her husband's face across the table, she leaned forward to give it a pat on the cheek, and sat down to supper, declaring it to be the best face in the world."

The whole story is filled with relationships built on deception, disapproval and violence. It's easy, particularly when watching adaptations, to become cynical about romance and anyone living happily ever after when, in Dickens' trademark style, all the characters are so flawed! But, as a constant through the whole novel, the Boffins are there to remind you that happy marriages do exist, and are so generous and happy and giving in every way that it's a relief when they appear.

See also: Mr and Mrs Micawber in David Copperfield.



Benedick and Beatrice (Much Ado About Nothing)

If we must go Shakespearean, how about a couple that have a relationship that lasts more than a total of 96 hours, and who have both completed puberty?

Beatrice and Benedick have known each other for years, we're given to understand, and match wits every chance they get in their "merry war". Both eschew marriage and love, but despite professing to hate each other seem to seek each other out to bicker with whenever they get the chance. They're friends in their own funny little way.

It takes their friends manufacturing situations where they each hear the other is in love with them to get them to realise their feelings, but when they do it's clear they've been building for a while.

Benedick tells her, "I love nothing in the world so much as you, is that not strange?", and Beatrice replies "I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." Compare that to Tristan, who even under a love potion still had space in him to complain about loving Isolde. And much like Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, once all confusions are cleared up they leap right in there.

To me this story is perfect - ignoring the ridiculous sexism and mistrust which come from the Hero-Claudio aspect of the play, Benedick and Beatrice to me are a wonderful romance. Matched in belief and wit, and knowing each other as well as they do. Just looking for gifs from various productions of this play has given me all sorts of warm, squirmy, fuzzy feelings inside. It's wonderful.

See also: I don't know, Shakespeare didn't have many un-messed up relationships. I'm a sucker for The Taming of the Shrew, but even I know that that's not particularly healthy.

So there you go, every time someone mentions a stupid literary relationship, you can now counter with a ready-prepared selection of wonderful literary relationships.

a love that will go down in history - part 3

For previous parts, go here:
Part one: Romeo and Juliet, Cathy and Heathcliffe, and Bonnie and Clyde
Part two: Anthony and Cleopatra, Samson and Delilah, and Lancelot and Guinevere

And now...

Claire's Guide to Bad Fictional and Historical Relationships 

(Part the Third)

Helen and Paris

Ah, the face that launched a thousand ships and that other guy. 

This continues quite nicely from the last set of relationships as, yes that's right kids, one of them was married to someone else, and by getting it on they started a war. 

Oh, but let's not get overly sentimental here. Let's look at the REASON they got together. 

So, the Gods go to this wedding, right, and there's a massive feast, and Eris, Goddess of Spite, decides that she wants to mess with the other girls, because she's not been invited - largely because she's a total buzzkill. So she chucks this golden apple onto the middle of the table, inscribed 'to the fairest'. It's like the extreme version of the bouquet toss. Three Goddesses reach for it - Athena, Aphrodite and Hera. You can imagine that none of these women is the type to just back down. 

They turn to Zeus, king of the Gods, and demand that he decide. Now, he might be a jerk but he's not stupid - he's not going to pick between his wife, his daughter, and his daughter-in-law-who-he-wants-to-bone - so he tells them to go ask Paris. Paris was hanging out on a mountain being a shepherd, because a priest had told his parents that he would be the downfall of Troy, and that he should be killed. But they couldn't do that. So he got dumped on this mountain.

So they go. And of course they all try to bribe their way to victory - Hera offers Paris the chance to be king of Europe and Asia; Athena offers him wisdom and skill in war; and Aphrodite, clearly knowing her audience, offers him the love of the most beautiful woman in the world. Which Paris takes, because you know, why go for something practical when you could be having sex?

Paris decides that he wants Helen without ever having met her, just knowing she's mega-hot. Helen gets NO SAY IN THIS AT ALL.

Here's the thing that Aphrodite didn't mention, or probably care that much about. The most beautiful woman in the world is Helen, Zeus' daughter (conceived whilst he was a swan, with the Queen of another country, yeah myths are fun). And she is married. To the King of Sparta. 

Yes, that's right, Sparta. You know.

 Interesting point: You'll notice that Sparta is landlocked. In the film 'Troy', amongst its other crimes against cinema, Helen and Paris escape by boat. So they are not good at Geography, along with History, Mythology and scriptwriting.

So Paris decides to kidnap her - whilst visiting Sparta on a diplomatic mission no less! - and takes her back to Troy (maybe using a boat at some point, but not climbing out of a window and down cliffs directly into a boat like in the movie because COME ON). And naturally, Menelaus, her husband, is a bit narked about all this. 

Oh, but here's the kicker. Because Helen was so beautiful, and all her suitors were so powerful, her (adoptive) Father made all her suitors swear loyalty to whomever he chose as her husband. So not only did he upset SPARTA, but he also had basically every army in Greece coming after him because of this oath.

Thus begins the Iliad. At first, Paris tries to fight it out with Menelaus because he realises he's made a bit of a cockup, politically speaking, but Menelaus hands his ass to him and Aphrodite whisks him away before he gets turned into a Paris of a different gender. Transported back to his bedroom where Helen is, Aphrodite then forces - that's right forces - Helen to be with him, after she is shot by one of Eros' arrows.

Things suck a bit for Helen - she's gone from being Queen of a country that was pretty stellar for Women's Rights, to being forced to shack up with a rubbishy little prince who spent his entire life living on a mountain and staging bullfights for money.

And this war? Lasted like 9 years. And it was a siege, so she couldn't even exactly go on day trips, she was trapped in the city with this little oik for 9 years. And over the course of it basically everybody died. It was a mess.

And then Paris gets killed towards the end of the war, but does that end it? Oh no! Can't let Helen go back to her husband now, it's a matter of principle! Nope, instead they marry her off to one of Paris' brothers instead. Just, y'know, whatever.

After all this, the Greeks pull the Trojan Horse thing, get inside, and just wreck the place. Like murdering and raping basically everyone, and chucking babies off the city walls and everything. It's not nice. Not nice at all. There are mixed stories as to where Helen stood during this - The Odyssey says she tortured the Greek soldiers by mimicking the voices of their wives back home; The Iliad says she performed Bacchic rites with the Trojan women. The Aeneid says that she hides her new husband's sword (Paris' brother, remember), so that he gets hacked to bits by her actual husband and is unable to defend himself, which is terribly Spartan of her. 

Menelaus finds her, and is about to kill her, but instead she drops her clothes and he realises that she's too beautiful to kill. So back to Sparta she goes! 

The lesson here: Consent is important, kids! Or it could get messy!

Alternative lesson: When all else fails, just get your boobs out and it will probably be fine.

Body Count: Easily in the hundreds of thousands, plus lots of rapes and other such funtimes.

Gatsby and Daisy

Wow, okay, so, I'm hoping - like seriously hoping - that most people who have read 'The Great Gatsby' know that it really isn't a romance. Like really really. The only reason I'm including this is because I saw it on one of those stupid keepsake wedding frames with the lists of names, I mentioned in post 1 and I was so horrified that I felt it needed to be addressed.

So, Gatsby is this mysterious and extremely wealthy guy who throws all these really hedonistic parties in his huge manor house. And who is totally obsessed with this woman who he dated for a bit in 1917. Who is married to another man and has a kid.

And I mean like SUPER obsessed. Creepy stalker obsessed. His whole lifestyle, his money and his parties are all just to get her to pay attention to him - he followed her to where she lived and bought the house across the bay from her so he could stare creepily at her house from his garden.

THAT IS NOT WHAT NORMAL PEOPLE DO WHEN THEY LIKE SOMEONE, GATSBY.

Anyway, Gatsby gets his new neighbour, Nick, handily Daisy's cousin, to invite Daisy over so they can 'meet by chance'. Lo and behold, they start having an affair. Marvellous! But it's okay, because Daisy's husband, Tom, is also having an affair. So, tit for tat and their child is going to grow up with no issues whatsoever because it's not like either of them is actually near it for long enough to influence it in any way at all.

And then Daisy and Tom and Gatsby and Nick and this woman called Jordan, who Nick is supposed to be dating but doesn't seem to like all that much, all have tea together and Tom realises Daisy and Gatsby are having an affair. So he forces them all to drive to New York, and rents out a really expensive hotel suite and insists they get drunk and it's all super awkward when he confronts Gatsby, claiming that he and Daisy have a history, and also that Gatsby is a criminal who made his money through bootlegging. And Nick and Jordan are just like wuuuuut.

Suddenly Daisy realises that maybe actually her loyalties lie with her husband after all, but Tom sends her and Gatsby packing to prove that Gatsby can't do anything to him, because Daisy doesn't really love him. Except of course they're all drunk, so this can only end badly. And it does! With Tom's mistress getting run over by Gatsby's car as she attempts to leave her own husband and come and see Tom.

(from the 1949 movie of the book, which is clearly the best movie ever)

Well, that's kinda shitty, right? It get worse. Daisy was driving the car that hit poor old Myrtle up there, but Gatsby takes the fall for her. Tom, still narked at Gatsby, tells Myrtle's husband that Gatsby killed her, and Mr Myrtle promptly marches up to Gatsby's house and shoots him whilst he's chillaxing in his pool, because he also thinks that Gatsby was the one schtupping his wife, rather than Tom. Mr Myrtle kills himself too.

No-one turns up for Gatsby's funeral, and Daisy goes back to Tom where they can now concentrate their joint efforts on wrecking their child.

Body Count: 3. Which for a novel that's only 218 pages is pretty high.



Tristan and Isolde

You knew this relationship was going to end badly from the very start - Wagner wrote an opera about it, so clearly it wasn't going to end in hundreds of sprogs and fluffy bunnies ever after. And also being that it was Wagner and not any other composer, you kind of knew that it was just going to be an awful lot of Not Very Good Bad Awful Things right up until the death as well. Because, you know, Wagner.

This whole shebang starts when Isolde's fiance goes off and gets himself killed by Tristan. Isolde is naturally a bit upset about this. Then she stumbles over this guy who's been mortally wounded and cares for him, until she discovers that it's Tristan. She tries to kill him, but can't actually do it, so instead sends him packing with a flea in his ear, and makes him swear he'll never come back.

So obviously he comes back. And kidnaps her to take to Cornwall so his Uncle, King Marke, can marry her. Because some people just don't know how to return a favour.

Needless to say, Isolde is a bit narked about the whole thing, and makes a fuss the whole journey from Ireland to Cornwall. She keeps demanding that Tristan come see her and apologise, and he keeps sending snotty messages back. In the end, she refuses to get off the ship until Tristan comes to "drink atonement to her". Whilst she's passing this message on via her maid, Brangäne, she also discloses that she reason she wants Tristan to drink with her is so she can slip him a large dose of some nasty poison she brought along with her for just such an occasion, which her maid is more than a little shocked about.

Brangäne convinces Tristan to come down, and prepares the drinks for them. Both Isolde and Tristan drink, Isolde taking half of the potion as well, intending to kill herself. But uh-oh, what's this? Brangäne, redefining drink spiking in her own special way, has switched the poison with a potion that causes immediate and relentless love.

And then they arrive in Cornwall! Where Isolde is to be married! To Tristan's Uncle!

Naturally, of course, Tristan and Isolde sneak around behind everyone's backs and have their affair. Tristan spends a lot of time moping about daytime being awful because they can't be together, and melodramatically declares that because they can only be together at night then they should both kill themselves to enjoy the longest night ever. Then he makes them both dye their hair black and listen to Evanescence for a bit.

They try to hide the way they feel about each other, but Tristan's friend Melot is starting to suspect them anyway.

Melot, of course, shops them to King Marke and then tries to fight Tristan. Tristan refuses to explain why he has betrayed his Uncle, because in the immortal words of every teenager ever, he wouldn't understand! So instead he dives right into this fight, and then chucks away his sword and lets Melot stab him. That's right, he intentionally gets himself all stabbed to pieces.

Tristan's whisked away to France basically before anyone else has a chance to say anything, and Isolde has to trail along behind to try and catch up. Tristan wakes up, and is extremely narked that he is alive, and still in love with Isolde. Considering this is all only happening because he was roofied by Isolde's maid, I think he has a fair right to be miffed. In fact, he gets so upset about this love potion that he drives himself into exhausted delirium, and dies just as Isolde finally makes it to him.

Then King Marke arrives with Melot and Brangäne, and Melot immediately gets killed in a fight with Tristan's servant, who also dies. Marke rocks up, and explains to Isolde that actually he'd come to tell Tristan and Isolde they could get married, because Brangäne explained everything to him, thus making Tristan's melodrama even more daft because if he had just explained himself instead of stomping around like an angry 14-year-old then he'd still be alive.

And then, for no readily apparent reason at all, Isolde also dies. Possibly from all the melodrama.

So, I suppose in theory you could look at it as a happy ending of sorts because Isolde and Tristan end up dead, which had been Isolde's master plan in the beginning. As relationships go, however, murdering a girl's fiance, then kidnapping her for your Uncle, and then only falling in love with her because of some epic date-rape drugging, don't exactly provide the strongest foundations for a healthy future together. Especially when you're in love with someone, and you're angry that you've been drugged to be in love with this person.

Yeah guys, let's keep that in mind. Tristan was pretty angry about the whole thing.

What was that lesson we learned whilst we were at Troy? That's right kids - Consent is good!

Body Count:  5, counting Isolde's fiance, 4 if we don't count him. From a cast of 6 named characters.



Here endeth the lesson in Epic Relationships Which Aren't Really Epic. And to be fair, most of these issues could have been avoided by following three simple rules.

1) Don't cheat
2) Don't kill people
3) Consent consent consent!

All these guys could easily have lived much healthier lives if they'd just said

Honestly though, guys. Seriously. I hope that we have now learned that these are lists of people who we don't want to be associated with, unless it is a list of "people who have the correct number of limbs", or "people who might have eaten cheese once".

And if anyone, anyone tries to tell you that these are romantic stories, and that the only appropriate and correct response is this: