So… I was going to write a post that is somewhat related to my Pinterest post on OneWed today (which will be up later), but I am not in the mood. So go read it on their site because it’s fucking funny and insightful. But, I am not in a Pinterest writing place. Because today on Bitchless Bride, I want to complain. And, while some haters think that BB complains everyday, this is different.
You see, if I receive one more fucking email from some eager, early twenty-something year old about how it has always been her dream to work in “the industry”, blah blah blah… I am gonna puke. Because not to be a total bitch, but c’mon. Even I didn’t know I wanted to be in this industry. And I can tell you that everybody in “the industry” got here because we were rejected from all of the other industries. NOBODY aspired to be in the service industry, we all got here by accident. And when we have attempted to get out and hold down a “normal” job, we realize that once it’s in your blood, you can’t get rid of the need to please. So we come crawling back. Fucked up, right?
So, eager twenty-something year old girl who thinks that planning events is super glamorous, and that “a day in the life of a planner” is filled with champagne, rainbows and unicorns… Spend the day with me… oh no, not the wedding day when all of the work has been done… Spend the day with me when I am talking the bride off the ledge for two hours over the fucking invitations and some teeny tiny invisible dot on the letterpress or when we go several rounds about moistness of the wedding cake and, “are people are really going to eat the fondant”? Because THAT’S the shit that will drive you to the bottle and a ciggy in the back alley. And frankly, that’s only the icing on the cake (and not the fucking fondant, which people DO eat, and not for nothing… it can be peeled off of the cake prior to serving your guests… just sayin’).
You got that twenty-something year old girl who has event planning dreams? After you experience ruining an expensive jacket because you got sauce on your sleeve when the kitchen needed an “extra body” on the line to plate dinner, THEN you can MENTION something about a dream you had to me, but until then, go see what it’s like to work behind the scenes at your favorite fancy restaurant or hotel. Probably not what you think it will be. But for now, quit clogging my fucking inbox with your dreaming. Get out of the classroom and into the real world before you send me your stupid cover letter and resume. Got it?