Humor June 8, 2009June 8, 2009

Gender. Confusion.

“I think so many people around here rush into marriage because they’re told not to have sex until they’re married and they’re desperate.”
“Definitely. Or they think marriage is their only option and it just doesn’t make sense to say ‘no’ if they have the opportunity.”
“…I think we may be looking at this through our gender perspectives here…”
-J. and C.

Last night J. came down from the city and as soon as he walked in the door I declared, “I’ve engaged us for the evening! Margot’s having a Tony Awards party at her house. Angel’s coming and she’s bringing her husband so you’ll have someone to make fun of us with.”
“But-but-” he gestured at the TV desperately, “NBA finals!”
“Oh, ok, you don’t have to come, but I’d like to go even just for a little while.”
“It’s ok,” he said quickly, “I can come if you want me to.”
“No worries, you don’t have to unless you want to.”

I could see the inner debate starting to rage: tell her what she wants to hear vs. the truth and possibly get hurt and have to spend hours/days doing penance.

menwomen Now, here’s the thing, I’ve never been A Girl about this sort of thing. Ever. Not the entire time we’ve been dating or even with any previous boyfriends. I am not going to drag a guy along to something he hates merely to be beautifully cruel and powerful, not only is it rude but nobody has a good time. So when I saw him struggling, I burst out laughing,
“You seem confused.”
“Well, yeah!” he said.
“You’re not getting punished, I’m not going to be bitter, and I’m not fishing for a right answer.”
The look on his face quite clearly said, This does not compute, so I just grabbed by bag and headed out the door saying cheerfully, “See you in an hour!”
Later when I asked him why after well over a year he’s still expecting me to suddenly turn evil he insisted, “Because someday, when I least expect it, I just know you’re going to get me with this one!”

It’s not the paranoia that offends me, it’s the lack of faith!

Fashion, Humor, Wedding June 4, 2009June 4, 2009

Prelude

“Tell me if I stick you with a hairpin or something. But beauty knows no pain, right?” (Sprays me with a whoosh of hairspray)
“HACK!”
“Or oxygen either, try not to breathe.”
-Stylist and C.

Yesterday I got a preview of what the wedding day is going to be like from a practical point of view, we took our bride and groom pictures together. Good grief! I spent twenty minutes picking up flowers, an hour and a half getting my hair done, another half hour doing my face (pore strips, scrubbing, messing up eyeliner twice…the usual set of catastrophes you have when you have something that you really need to look good for), and a mad ten minute dash trying to find things last minute. Even though I had amassed everything I thought we could possibly need earlier in the day.

Finally, my hair drenched in enough hair spray to drown Russia (my stylist was a little enthusiastic with the bottle) and my arms full of shoe boxes, veil boxes, ring boxes, and sheets to protect my gown, we decamped to our photographer’s studio to meet up with her and Darling. Then we had to get me into my dress when, horror! We found the back didn’t fasten at one point. Just as I was about to tumble down a well of fresh angst about my body type, L’Artiste discovered we just hadn’t done it up properly, so I haven’t gained weight but apparently I have lost brain cells. Things were much better after liftoff, L’Artiste is a fabulous photographer and had such fun ideas I can’t wait to see how they turned out. The only problem was worrying about getting my dress dirty and in the end it came out pristine! Don’t ask me how, I’ve no idea, I’m mostly concerned with being grateful!

Moral of the story: the wedding day is going to be a project, I’m going to have to get up at the crack of midnight to get everything together (factoring in several turnarounds to retrieve forgotten/misplaced items), and I will spend a day in a dress that deprives me of oxygen. And it will all turn out gorgeously.

…I hope…!

Family, Humor, Marriage, Wedding, Weekend June 1, 2009

Crunch Time…Can Wait!

“Oh how I love the crazy hedonism of weekends!”
-Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson

We’re officially one month away from the wedding. Weird. J. and I spent saturday with his mother Darling going over everything for the luncheon, being dragged all over the site, made to debate the merits of table linens and centerpieces, and having to decide on a desert (we ended up picking two) until I was sure J. was about to claw his ears off so he wouldn’t have to listen to anymore. And frankly the luncheon is his parents’ party, they are paying for it, so if she wants to do the whole thing in barbie pink and fairy sparkles I’ll (grit my teeth but) not say a word!

Sunday I flouted my nutritionists (aka Venice and Miyagi) because Fairy threw me a birthday party! I ate two pieces of red velvet cake, stuffed myself on GS’s famous fruit salsa, accidental made Elle cry (SORRY!), and took lots of food home with me to continue ruining my eating plan with! Then I spent four hours gossiping with Fairy after everyone else had left before heading home, gorging myself on BBC and another half of cake, and heading to bed way too late. In other words, a great weekend.

Of course, with only a month to go that means we have at least one major project a week. Gifts have started flowing in, we’re having pictures taken on wednsday, we have to finalize guest counts for all the functions, figure out to get the out-of-towners (basically anyone related to me) around town, convince some of my other relatives (who are legitimately round the twist) to even come…sigh. Getting married, not for the feint of heart!

Friends, Humor May 28, 2009May 28, 2009

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

“I really don’t think I need buns of steel, I’d be happy with buns of cinnamon.”
-Ellen DeGeneres

I'm not sure that chucking someone who benchpresses literally more than you weigh is a good idea...

Venice has a personal trainer, Miyagi, who has spent the last couple of months kicking her butt up and down a treadmill on her quest to lose some weight. However, after next to no results after the torture (and I’m not using the term facetiously, the girl can hardly walk after Miyagi puts her through her paces!), Venice called me after work one day a while back.
“It’s not working, C.”
“Well, have you tried talking to him about it?”
“We’ve tried everything! Both of us are frustrated, we’re not progressing at all and I just feel stuck. I think maybe it’s the birth control that’s making this so hard.”
This conversation sounded eerily familiar.
“Hold on a second,” I said, “are you…breaking up with him?”
She paused for a moment. “Yeah! I’m dumping him!”
“Er…can you dump a trainer?”
“Watch me!”

However, the other day Miyagi apparently had one last plan to salvage their floundering relationship. He’s completely reworked her nutrition plan and workout and she’s decided that she will try one more time (for the children). The menu actually seems pretty good and I’ve decided to join in with her for a while since I know I don’t get enough protein or eat as well as I could.

Of course, my work is trying to scupper my good intentions right off the bat. It’s Officer Lampost’s birthday and the tradition is to order out for someones birthday. And Sgt. Andes just filled all our candy jars to the brim. Very nice, but it doesn’t exactly inspire one to be sacrificing in the way of sugar! And breakups are hard, if Venice takes it badly we may both leap headfirst into the vat of Mars Bars togther!

Humor May 27, 2009May 27, 2009

Scientific Progress

“I love fools’ experiments. I am always making them.”
-Charles Darwin

Ve haf made several discoveries ve vould like to share!

To absolutely no one’s surprise I am sure, I am a walking hazard. Seriously, if it were ten million years ago and the destiny of the future human race depended on me surviving the evolutionary gauntlet, you would not be reading this now. Natural forces are not my friends. Some of my most recent forays into the realm of accidental scientific inquiry have been absolutely ludicrous!

Ecology:
On a whim I purchased some little tomato plants and herbs to plant along the tiny garden the tenants of our building share. I’m no suburban housewife, but fresh veggies and cilantro means fresh salsa and that’s an idea I can totally get behind. However as I toted my prizes out to the garden, I took a look around and belatedly realized that I did not, in fact, own so much as a trowel. Not willing to risk my manicure I hunted around frantically for even a stick but I hunted in vain. Finally, as I stared at the sad, wilting little troopers in their too-small plastic pots, I was seized with inspiration! I dashed up to my flat and grabbed a spoon from the sink and raced back down to send dirt flying. I had just finished and was surveying my biological kingdom with pride when a whole troop of the upstairs neighbors, none of whom I’ve yet met, wandered by. There I stood: mad post-workout hair, fists on hips, stance of victory, with (as I later discovered) streaks of dirt on my face…and spoon clenched tightly in my fingers. All three of them gave me the fish-eye and hurried upstairs without saying hello.

Thermodynamics:
Not content with dirtying my only clean spoon in the garden, I wreaked more havoc in the kitchen by making myself dinner last night. Apparently the microwave gets freakishly hot because I pulled a glass plate that I’d used to heat some chicken from it (the plate didn’t seem too hot to me) and started to run it under water…a spiderweb pattern shot through the whole thing and less than a second later it had fallen to pieces in my hands. I tossed the bits away and went to bed moody.

Pathology:
See here if you haven’t already.

Gravity:
My enemy! You wouldn’t think it possible to trip on an elliptical machine where your feet are firmly planted, would you? Somehow I managed, twice. I scattered the entire contents of my makeup case while getting ready yesterday morning, I dropped food down the front of my shirt while J. watched laughing on monday, and nearly did a cartwheel going down my stairs this morning (crisis averted by clutching the railing to save my sorry hide).

However! I not only now have PBS (how else am I supposed to keep up with my British television and BBC period dramas?), but our basic cable package also came with the History Channel! My nerdy soul rejoices! Even if I don’t live long enough to contaminate the gene pool with my faulty, clumsy, ridiculous DNA I will still die entertained.

Life May 26, 2009May 26, 2009

Making Contact

“Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hal-LE-LU-jah!”
-Handel

ipod_silhouette_300x300 After moving into our place way back in March, I finally got internet and cable set up at the flat today! J. was a trooper and woke up early to drive down and hang out while the Comcast guy got us set up because I couldn’t skip work, and thank heaven because I’ve had the same music on my iPod for months now without iTunes and am terribly close to well and truly losing it!

And then, as HE suggested, we got his tux situation sorted on my lunch break. This guy is a keeper.

Humor, Weird May 22, 2009May 22, 2009

A Humorous Vignette

“A bachelor’s life is no life for a single man.”
-Samuel Goldwyn

Sometimes I think J. keeps me around just for the pleasure of watching the constant stream of wacky, inexplicable, laughable things that seem to happen to me. We were cuddling at his flat last night, watching the basketball game with some of his flatmates, when he ran his hand down my arm, paused, and laughed, “You’ve got goosebumps.”
“No,” I answered in confusion and felt along my bicep as well. There were some little bumps, but they weren’t goosebumps. Perplexed I felt again because, in spite of the lack of redness or anything, it felt like an allergic reaction.
“What have I touched?” I demanded, glancing around the bacherlor pad.
“Well…you did touch The Blanket.”

It should be explained at this point that The Blanket has maintained a residence on one of the boys’ three sofas for as long as J. and I have been dating, and to this day I’m not entirely sure who it belongs to (as I’ve heard two names put forward as the owner). I’ve also never personally seen anyone sleep under it, wrap oneself in it, cuddle with it, or any of the other uses a blanket in such a position usually adopts. Obviously, it is regarded with a degree of wary respect/fear by visitors.

I bolted off the sofa and stared at The Blanket, which I now realized I had been leaning against while watching the game, oblivious to my danger.
“What’s in that thing,” I snapped in fear, scratching at my arm, “smallpox?!”

I still have no idea what happened. But I have another item on the list of why I’m enjoying having a place to myself (as if I needed any more after the wretched Exploding Milk Incident, the memory of which persists and keeps me from buying more than half gallon jugs out of fear of a reprisal).

Drama, Humor May 21, 2009May 21, 2009

A Freak Out In the Style of Margot

Disheartening : knowing that your fitness goals (lose about one pound every two weeks) are attainable and therefore you have absolutely no excuse not to achieve them.
Soul-destroying : working out religiously all week only to discover you have gained a pound instead of lost it.

GAH!, C. cries out to you in angst.

But, C., you say helpfully and soothingly, you know that muscle weighs more than fat and you have been sticking to your weight lifting with admirable regularity. You spend an hour in the gym every weekday, and sometimes saturdays, and you try really hard to eat a balanced diet, you even take vitamins. And look how flat your stomach is! The arm flab is gone too! Do try and have a little perspective here. And C., you say a little more firmly and with much less patience, it is one pound. Surely your melodramatic tendencies can be put to more effective use on another angsty problem.

No! (C. wails) I am picking up my wedding dress on Saturday and already in a nervous panic to see what they alterations girls have done to it and now I am the size of a walrus! And it’s not even about the wedding (C. howls, swathing herself in sackcloth)! I know it’s just one pound. It’s just one of those days: I’m fed up with my job, my internet keeps cutting out, and I gained a pound. And I really…want…a brownie…! !

You, shaking your head in disgust and turning about sharply, merely curl your lip. C., you are being ludicrous. Let’s talk when your sense of reality reinstates itself.

(Humbly) Ok.

Fashion, Friends, Humor, Wedding May 20, 2009May 20, 2009

Eve vs. The Apple

“Look for the woman in the dress; if there is no woman, there is no dress.”
-Coco Chanel

It never fails. Whenever I recommit to frugality (and, though I don’t mind spending money, I already do live well within my limits) I remember something I need to buy, find a place that tempts me to dump money into it, or go shopping with Venice. Usually some combination of the three.

Last night was the third option. I told the girls I asked to be bridesmaids long ago that I want them to pick out a dress they liked, that flattered them, and that they could wear again…I had no idea it would mean frantic searching and agony on their part, I thought I was doing something nice! Venice and I went on the hunt for bridesmaids dresses, and since we live in wedding central, we reasoned, surely there must be something. Two hours later we had encountered monstrosity after monstrosity (long, hunter’s orange, chiffon with a BOW! I didn’t know they actually were legally able to sell something that ugly!) and I could tell she was getting frustrated enough to chew nails! David’s Bridal was explored and discarded, some pretty dresses but ridiculously priced and the alterations would cost a separate fortune. Other bridal shops were the same, the dresses in varying degrees of loath-ability. We’re about the same height (aka short) and let me tell you, no one makes pretty petite bridesmaids dresses. In fact, I’d say that very few people make pretty petite clothing for women in their early twenties period, but that’s an entirely different rant for another day. As if finding a nice bridesmaids dress wasn’t a chore to begin with, finding one in a “specialty size” was pretty near impossible, we continue to be confounded by our height (or lack thereof).

Finally we through in the towel (after we had both stopped into Anchor Blue for flip flops because we both needed a pair, were still both in our work heels, and dying) and slumped home in defeat. Then! At 10 o’clock she called (ironic, since we now live two doors down from one another) and I hurried over to see this marvelous site: Shabby Apple. Another friend had introduced me to it months ago but the memory of it was long gone. It’s a small business run out of Salt Lake City, UT and they sell nothing but fabulous dresses! She found one she really liked (it’s so classy, and not something vile that one tosses in the back of a closet never to be seen again) so we ordered it and we’re now a step closer to being done with this whole parade!

…of course, there were repercussions…I’ve had next to nothing to do at work today so I spent the day cruising the website, having to physically restrain myself from whipping out the credit card! I’m currently drooling over a few and debating which to buy first when I’m no longer out of my I’m-getting-married-and-have-better-things-to-spend-my-money-on hell. …that and today I’m buying a pair of stunning emerald earrings to wear on the big day. A girl can’t have everything. At least not all at once.

For your horror/viewing pleasure you may check out the following. I can’t belive so many people are this cruel to their friends!

Drama, Family, Humor May 18, 2009

Fake It Till You Make It

“Do we have any plans tonight?”
“We could get dinner or catch a movie.”
“Sounds good.”
“By the way, my parents are coming tomorrow.”
“Gah! Scratch that, we’re cleaning!”
-C. and J.

stressed Future parents-in-law coming to see the flat where their son will be living once he marries me = mad dash to scrub bathroom, wipe down kitchen, throw multiple lemons down (our incomprehensibly aggravating) garbage disposal, make bed, stash Victoria Secret bags/boxes and issues of Cosmo from scandalous friends (seriously, people, are you trying to get me killed?!) , and spray whole house with happy, fresh apple scent. All for half an hour of sitting in our living room making small talk. And since I have NO food in the place (thank goodness they didn’t look in the FRIDGE!) I had to wait until today to buy myself a post-parental Cafe Rio Tres Leches cake!

I have no idea why I’m so terrified of his parents, they are some of the world’s nicest people! I think I’m afraid that they’ll find out that I’m not very nice myself…

Small Dog Syndrome