I'm With The Band

I committed tirelessly to a wedding blog for the better part of a year. I am so over it.

You live, breathe, eat, smoke, sweat and ooze weddings (or anything for that matter) so intensely for 7 months straight, you might just need a break. It probably happens to all brides. I was a sucker for wedding magazines; money was no object! What? $13.00 for a stack of advertisements? Yes! Yes! Yes! Glimpse a little (or a lot) of my madness here: alexanddayna.blogspot.com. But it's over. I have my pictures. I have my memories. And really, it was oh, oh so lovely! Now, I begin a new chapter, or in this case a new blog. 

I love to write. But, blogging can be a tad self indulgent and any idiot can write one. Hi, blogger.com. No application required. It's sadly a free for all. Without a momentous occasion to justify the narcissism, I feel a little sheepish. Just bein' honest. So, to avoid contributing to the problem of all of the me-me-me blogging (and to perhaps soothe my own uneasiness), I decided on a purpose of sorts: quashing myths about band wives with my arms-length and sarcastic perspective of life with a "rock star" (emphasis on the quotations). My story could possibly apply to hockey wives, but I don't know any, and maybe I have my prejudices. Some bright little puck bunny can quash her own myths. I think they may even have their own unfavourably edited reality show. Since I need to "get mine", and no one is knocking down our rented-apartment door for the rights to my comfortably and blissfully dull existence, this is my soapbox.

OK, so I am ahead of myself. My husband is a signed recording artist, sure, but they have only recently started gaining momentum, and their album isn't yet pressed. Sweet Thing who? I can't quite provide an accurate portrait of the lonely band wife condition...yet. But, big (and Sweet) things are imminent. I am proud. And terrified.

This is my story.