What's up Daytona brides?

Somehow, four months have gone by since the big engagement day and I still haven't figured out the most important, basic factor of all this wedding business. THE DATE! The beau and I have it down to a preferred month (March), and that's as far as we've gotten.

We don't even have our colors picked out. Annnd, we've driven all over Volusia County, searching from the north to the south for the perfect wedding venue that speaks to us and our lifestyle and we are close, but no cigar. (Although, if you read my blog, you'll see I'm actually trying cigars these days... and on another tangent, click here to learn what that cigar phrase is all about).

If you're anything like me, you've been researching how to find the best deals with the most reputable wedding vendors and are pretty much freaking out about the ever-expanding guest list. So now's your big chance to meet a bajillion other gals on Sunday who are probably going through the same thing.

Okay, well maybe there's only 500 of brides-to-be (who are registered), but if you attend the Perfect Wedding Guide's 7th Annual Summer Bridal Show, then at least you'll know you're not alone.

I'll be there :)

But more importantly, so will lots of local vendors.

WHAT: Perfect Wedding Guide's 7th Annual Summer Bridal Show  WHEN: 1 to 4 p.m. on Sunday, Aug. 16 WHERE: Daytona Beach Resort & Conference Center, 2700 N. Atlantic Avenue in Daytona Beach. COST: $6 in advance, $10 at the door.

I talked to Felicia Fink, who is involved in organizing the show at the Daytona Beach Resort & Conference Center. She said grooms are welcome and do attend, though it is "very bride-related."

"It is like a trade show for brides," she said. "They have everything from cakes to photography to limousines to decor, linens. It is everything a bride could possibly want."

Considering I'm not doing anything in the traditional order--date, venue, colors, decor, etc.--this may be my big chance to figure it out all at once. 

Brides are asked to register and carry a book to all the different booths, and get it signed by every vendor so they can be entered in a contest for a prize. Of course, being a broke-ass bride, I got excited. Eyes wide and smiling, I asked Felicia what the big prize is-- secretly hoping it would be a free wedding.

Alas, it is only the "honeymoon of your dreams," which still sounds pretty good to me...

Felicia also said you can expect to see some bridal fashions. Girls will be walking around modeling dresses.

Good luck ladies--and you better bet I'm gonna be in the running for that honeymoon.

Unlike a lot of women, I was never the type of girl that dreamed of the perfect wedding dress.

I had no idea where I'd get hitched, what colors I'd choose, let alone whether I'd wear a trumpet, mermaid, Grecian or ball gown style. Sweetheart or Queen Anne? Ivory or candlelight? What does all that mean?

In fact I was quite anti-wedding for several years, until I got engaged of course. Rather than gush about plans with my girlfriend, Cecilia and I made a silly pact to never wed. Bombarded with the question about upcoming marriage plans with our longtime boyfriends, we both vowed to be strong in solidarity and not let society pressure us to do it just 'cause we hit the ripe, old age of 25.

But as you probably know, even the best of friends break promises. Cecilia got engaged and married all in the same week in May at the age of 26. I finally decided I was ready for the big M in January and it took Tim (my bf) several months to ask.

So maybe that idea of resisting marriage, taking on someone else's last name and becoming the wifey type won't work out after all. I admit to always being open to compromise and most of my feelings changed when I realized my match had been at my side for the past seven years. (One fight remains to be duked out, though. He is still trying to convince me to take his name and it ain't gonna happen!)

So now that I'm one of those "brides to be," I've jumped in to the cliché with both feet. I broke down and bought two wedding magazines and here I am recording ridiculous wedding shows--"Wedding SOS," "Say Yes to the Dress," "Bridezilla" and the like--and finding that I'm one broke-ass biotch. How people spend $7,000 on one dress for one day that they will never wear again, is very much beyond my comprehension and compensation.
My man and I are simple folk. I'd like to think we got style, but not so much that we'd spend more than a few hundred bucks on our outfits for what I hope will be an awesome dance party. Of course now that I've typed that out, I'm sure there will be someone out there who probably can't comprehend me dropping $600 on a dress--so I apologize if I'm not thrifty enough... but that's my budget.

And so far it doesn't seem unreasonable. I found some pretty ones during my first foray into the kingdom of all things bridal on Friday, June 12. And it was hot. But not hawt in a good way. Those dresses are heavy, huge and hopped up on some serious steroids. Well, some of them anyway.

I accompanied Audrey Parente, one of my very sweet co-workers at The Daytona Beach News-Journal, for a business story on Doralynn's Bridal & Formal. She needed to profile a local business and coincidentally, I gotta find a wedding dress.

I had imagined my mom would need to be there for this milestone, because I know she'd really love and enjoy seeing her little girl all dolled up. But she's in Miami and gave me her blessing to go ahead without her. Despite being without her, I tried to channel her voice in the store, trying on gowns I didn't like that she might like and dresses that might look better on me than on the hangar.

Trying on wedding dresses is more difficult than I thought. Doralynn's store is small and cramped, but it has a ton of stock. Within minutes I grabbed hold of three dresses and could barely hold them up as I tried to drag them to the fitting room, (by the way, they barely fit into the fitting room, they were that big).

The first one I tried on was kind of old Hollywood style, or maybe Grecian. See how I've

learned the vocabulary? (I owe it all to those wedding magazines.) It was flowy and simple with a nice draped back and was the only one that didn't weigh more than a few pounds.

I liked it. And as soon as Doralynn propped that veil and tiara on my head, I couldn't believe it. It was freaky and exciting and mostly just, "holy cow!" (If you can imagine what that feels like!)

Staring at myself in the getup, I finally let myself get excited. I mean how often do you get to see yourself in an outfit like that?

It was pretty swanky, but it made me feel old and young at the same time. Some might say I'm still youthful and fresh at age 26, and yet I also feel that it's another important step into adulthood. (Yuck).

I don't know that marriage will be much different than my life with Tim now. I already make him do my taxes and we've been living in sin for like three years.

We know each other in ways that no one will ever understand. But there's one thing he has yet to grasp.

It will be the meaning of that dress. Whichever one I end up wearing, it will be unforgettable.
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Photos by Audrey Parente

 

A few years ago, I announced that I'd never get married.
Babies. Baking chicken. Being a unit. That what it's all about, right?

I was, and still find myself in "me" mode and selfish. I graduated from the University of Florida in 2005 (go Gators!) and took a risk moving to New Smyrna Beach, where I knew no one and landed a job at The Daytona Beach News-Journal.

The voice in my head urged me to live my life. Start my career. Get my own place (and check the locks constantly). Meet new people and try new things.

But in doing that, I put my relationship on hold with Tim, my longtime boyfriend in Gainesville.

We did the long distance thing for two years and absence only made our hearts grow fonder.

Eventually he moved here and we found ourselves playing house in a ridiculous, pastel-colored home that closely resembles an Easter egg.

Tim helped me with the dishes. We split the grocery bills evenly. Both of us surfed on the weekends and entertained countless people who came for beach retreats.

We were happy. And happiness that lasted as long as ours could only mean one thing to so many people:

"So . . . when are you two going to get married?"

For the longest time, I had survived the proposition with good reasons, not excuses. We started dating when I was 19. Most of the time, when people brought it up, I could just say,

"Well, I'm too young," or "I need to finish college first."

And then I turned 25 and never heard the end of it.

Everyone we met had something to say about it. Suddenly we had a bajillion weddings to attend. Friends would pop the corny question after the ceremony: "So, you two must be next, huh?"

It felt like a societal obligation. You're 25 and he's 30. It's been seven years. Get married or get movin'.

Tim was ready, but I continued to resist. I wanted to be the social renegade.

More than anything, it's the growing up part that I disliked. I've been hanging on to the youth of singledom, living in sin and proudly marking that box for "single woman" on documents.

Marriage felt like the final step for me to reach adulthood. Surely we'd have to buy a house.

Set down roots. I'd have to pop out a baby or three and worst yet, learn how to be wifey and bake chicken or something. We would never travel or spend money on lavish gourmet dinners or go zip-lining through a rainforest.

And then, finally at 26, I found myself thinking about the scenario in a different way. The married couples I knew seemed happy too.

And when we moved in together, nothing really changed. We still had fun, goofed off, went on adventurous vacations, hiked and kayaked all we wanted. Who said any of that had to stop when we sealed the deal?

Our marriage could be whatever we wanted it to be. If I didn't want to be a housewife, I didn't have to.

In a way, I realized I would still always be me because Tim expects nothing less. 

Interestingly, when I decided I was ready, he wasn't. Or maybe he was, and he just didn't find the right time to pop the question. I was getting close to the point of asking him myself, when he finally did.

A few weeks ago, I had a tough day at work and Tim coaxed me into coming home early. I arrived to a warmly lit home, with one of our favorite songs playing in the background.

There were some red daisies at my desk and a few candles burning.

Something was amiss, but I figured he was trying to help me calm down after a bad day.  I never expected it to be our big moment.

I was petting the dog on my lap, telling Tim about my day when I found something tucked in his collar.

A tiny note with a short and special message: "Will you marry my owner?"

I accepted our dog's proposal that night, knowing full well that when I say yes at the courthouse and at our wedding, I'll still be me when I'm at his side.

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Now that I'm engaged, the new question I'm battling is, "Will you keep your last name?" Stay tuned to find out why I'll always be Cucu.

Okay, let's get rid of the question that's likely on your mind. "How in the h-e-double hockey sticks do you pronounce your last name?"

Well, it's simple my dear reader. Sound it out. Coo-coo-lee-ahn-ski.

Next question? "Is that  Polish?"

No.

And a favorite, "So is that Irish?"

Hell no.

It's Ukrainian.  Besides that, my family doesn't know a whole lot about it because the Cucus that are still alive are from Argentina . So there you have it. I'm a second generation Latina with a Colombian mama. Born and raised in Miami.

I bleed Orange and Blue. I like a limey Corona. I love to close my eyes and dance.

Besides being a journalist, I stay eternally busy in my personal life too. That means lots of shopping, traveling, festivals and outdoors stuff, like kayaking and camping.

I also like to try new things. And that's mostly what my Kaleidoscope column is going to be about.  

Every week you'll read either read about some observations from my 25-year-old perspective or learn about new experiences to be had in Volusia and Flagler counties. It could be as simple as me trying out a salsa class. Might be as wild as busting my butt in a roller derby.  Or as relaxing as taking a puff at a hookah bar.

So what's the point? No. 1, for me to have fun and get paid for it. But of course, more importantly No. 2, for you to stop watching Family Guy reruns, and get out there and give some of these things a try.