Archive for the ‘Somebody’s getting maawwweeed’ Category
Wednesday, September 1st, 2010
For the last couple of days, I have found everything – literally everything – to be absolutely and totally irritating. My eyes have rolled so much over the past 72 hours that I’m surprised they’re still tethered into my head.
Now, I admit that there are times when my irritation might be a bit irrational, like when I am bellowing at Phil, “STOP SAYING WORDS!,” but I am pretty convinced that while the level of annoyance I have felt over the past few days may be a bit amplified for reasons that have yet to reveal themselves, everything that I was irritated (and continue to be irritated) by has been absolutely, 100% irritation-worthy.
1. I randomly decided I wanted to play WoW again and won’t play on the laptop, so I’ve been playing on Phil’s computer, and that alone could spawn a forty item list of irritations, but I’ll leave it as this one, overarching irritation.
2. Sheldon keeps licking my shirt and leaving LICK SPOTS.
3. Flies keep landing on me. Instant scream rage.
4. People on Twitter who decided that for one day, they’re just going to tweet inspirational quotes or some shit. I don’t get this or the motivation behind it. It feels preachy to me. Don’t preach on Twitter. That’s irritating.
5. This message board I used to read, they like to use the word “wise” for anyone and everyone. Like “so and so is wise.” And not just about one post, but in general. Like “so and so is a wise person.” I don’t think they know what that word actually means.
6. Same message board launched a “post secret” style site, in which people could create “postcards” online and send in their secrets. Which lead to a “post secret” style site dedicated to call outs – where you could send in a “secret” that was actually anonymous insults to another poster. Apparently, someone sent something in that said that one poster’s husband, who has been battling cancer, was better off dead than with her. Note that I said “message board I used to read,” because hot christ.
7. Phil keeps trying to hug me when I am VERY CLEARLY giving off “do not approach” vibes.
8. VERY CLEARLY.
9. We have one diet soda left, which means I have to choose whether to just drink it now or ration it, which is irritating because I shouldn’t have to make such decisions and our poor soda planning skills need work.
10. Air conditioning.
11. I keep putting on weight like I don’t have a very specific dress waiting for me to fit into it in a month and a half.
12. Brinkley keeps licking my pants and leaving LICK MARKS.
13. I hate this stupid computer.
14. We have new eggs and old eggs in the fridge and I can never tell which is which.
15. No one has thrown out the old eggs.
16. I have an itch under the callous on my foot. UNDER it.
17. The shower head REFUSES to line up so that it hits me in the direct center of my back without me having to come in contact with the wall or the shower curtain. This is unacceptable.
18. Weddings are stupid.
19. When I rolled over in the night last night, Phil was laying in such a manner that we were face to face, as if he didn’t bother to anticipate the fact that I might roll over and then we’d be breathing on each other.
20. Sometimes it seems like some people only comment to give me a hard time.
21. This 800 number calls my cell phone EVERY SINGLE DAY and when I pick it up, there’s silence, and if I don’t pick it up, they leave a 2 second silent voice mail. EVERY DAY.
22. You know what else happened on Twitter a bunch of times recently? Someone will decided to make some kind of proclamation or lecture and it ends up being stretched across several Tweets. One, don’t preach on Twitter, because come on, you’re on Twitter. No one is taking you seriously. Two, if you need to say (cont.) or something like that – especially on a regular basis – you obviously do not fully grasp the concept of Twitter, and that is irritating.
23. People in their late teens or early 20s know absolutely everything there is to know and refuse to believe that they most certainly do not. Holy shit, is that irritating.
24. Sheldon fur.
25. I stopped biting my nails. So now what?
26. I was watching several episodes of a show on Hulu and accidentally closed the window with 5 minutes left to go in the season finale. I cannot be bothered to cue it back up.
27. A lot of people say “que” when they mean “cue,” and I think they mean to say “queue,” which means not only are they spelling it wrong, they’re using the completely wrong word. And you can’t say anything because then you’re that guy.
28. Also? “Weary” and “wary.” Two separate words.
29. Also? Using British spellings when you’re an American and claiming that they’re perfectly valid spellings? Not as cute as you think it is. I’m looking at you, Live Journal.
30. I hate this stupid keyboard.
31. My hair is too long.
32. My butt is too flat.
33. People keep leaving the “song” portion blank on the RSVPs.
34. Weddings are still stupid.
35. I hate having my picture taken, and I even MORE hate the people who think it’s fun or funny to sneak a picture or say, “Oh, just one,” and act like I’m a huge asshole when I again politely refuse. That’s not funny. Not at ALL. Especially the sneaking thing. So rude.
36. Also? ALSO? Super irritating? My name is Kelly. I prefer to be called Kelly, and I don’t care for Kel. Sometimes, when someone calls me Kel, I will VERY POLITELY say that I prefer Kelly. Said person either gets INCREDIBLY butt hurt and insulted, because OH MY GOD, why do I think it’s SUCH a big deal, or, from then on, they make a huge show of going, “Oh, hey, Kel —- LY!”
37. And people who know that a person doesn’t like to be crowded, but take great offense at someone stepping back for more room.
38. And grocery stores.
39. And parents who let their children flip around and harass the people in the next booth.
40. Phil lets his fingernails grow til they look like coke nails but won’t even let me paint one.
41. He also has long eyelashes, longer than any girl I know, and won’t let me put mascara on them, just to SEE.
42. I’m already pre-irritated at how many questions people are going to ask me leading up to the wedding.
43. I’m also pre-irritated at all of the people who will read this and feel an urge to comment about how negative I am, like they’ve never just been IRRITATED a goddamn day in their life, and trying to paint me as someone who complains constantly.
44. I want to repeat 43 right here because I’m still pre-irritated.
45. Do anyone’s glasses stay right on their nose? I am shoving them back up all day long. Could I be any more stereotypically nerd-like?
46. If you claim you’re never reading Dooce again, you really lose a lot of credence when you make the same proclamation again a couple of days later.
47. People who start helping to kill mobs that you have perfectly in hand drive me insane because I feel guilty or obligated to group.
48. I cannot get the little edge where the sink meets the counter clean. It looks grimy and awful and it’s making me insane.
49. Hair. Of all sorts and locations.
50. Phil likes to tuck the sheets when he makes the bed and then gets all upset when I untuck. NO ONE CAN SLEEP TUCKED.
So, what completely petty and fleeting things have crawled right under your skin lately?
I declare the comments section a complaint free for all, with no justifications needed and no judgment passed.
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed, Yeah, I play WoW, daily BS | 125 Comments »
Monday, August 30th, 2010
I’ve decided to rename our wedding. From, uh… wedding… to “Spendfest 2010.”
Instead of wedding planning updates, here are some “Shit I had to buy” updates.
At my mother’s insistence, we have secured a limo. We ended up going back and forth a bit between this limo:
with this interior:
And this OH MY GOD COMPLETELY DIFFERENT LIMO:
With this HOLY SHIT NOT THE SAME AT ALL interior:
… right.
So.
Anyway, we need a limo for about, oh, 45 seconds, total, making the seventeen skrillion dollar cost completely reasonable.
(Actually, we did get it for a completely and totally reasonable price, I’m just bitter because I didn’t even want a limo, which made the whole “choosing a limo” thing that much more hilarious, as my mother strained to listen for subtle changes in inflection and tone to determine which of the two COMPLETELY IDENTICAL limos I preferred over the other, and has proceeded to agonize over the choice, unsure if I’ve gotten exactly what I wanted, ever since.)
(Only with a wedding could a person complain about people bending themselves in half to make sure that said person is perfectly pleased, even about details that OH MY GOD NO ONE CA—zzzzzzzz.)
I bought Phil’s wedding band from Amazon:
And then I bought my wedding band from Etsy:
Having realized on my last visit that our wedding is scheduled to take place right between some extremely handsome floor vents, we made arrangements to have them covered with tables, which lead to the necessity of purchasing things to go on said tables, which lead to the necessity of a trip to Ikea, which I suppose I can’t really complain about.
Because come on.
Ikea.
Two sets of these
and two sets of these
a whole shit load of these
a half a dozen of these
a bunch of these
(which I didn’t realize were reversible until just now)
and some of these, because I guess I went a little crazy at the end there.
So, due to Ikea’s weirdness about what you can order online and what you can’t, and their ridiculous shipping charges for the things you can order, and the fact that there’s no Ikea near my parents’ house, a whole bunch of candle-related crap will soon be shipping across the US in poorly packed flat rate boxes.
Additionally, due to my laziness and unwillingness to exert more than the base effort required, a lot of family members are going to be inheriting a lot of candle holders on October 24.
Happy early Christmas!
Anyway. Still to be done are centerpieces for the reception, and I’m wondering if I should have just purchased more of the exact same stuff, as I wanted candle centerpieces anyway.
You can just piled a bunch of that stuff on a table and call it “attractive,” right?
Or, at least, “attractive enough?”
I hope so, because that’s what I’m planning on doing with all of that business for the ceremony.
There is still so much I haven’t done, stuff I keep putting off until “later.”
Well, September is the day after tomorrow, which means the day after tomorrow is when people will start saying, “Are you excited that you’re getting married NEXT MONTH?,” so I don’t know exactly when I think this “later” is.
The dress shop called to schedule my fittings, but I haven’t called back, because I don’t even know when I plan to be in the state.
And fittings require shoes, which, don’t even get me started. It’s a long dress. No one is going to notice if I just paint my feet white, right?
I still have to get bow ties and stuff for the dogs, which, again, don’t ask, as they’re not even coming to the wedding, and this is a project you do not want to engage me about, as I may turn my desperate eyes upon you and rope you in.
I don’t have a veil, but I’m thinking that something from the “On the Go” line from this Etsy shop or this eBay shop is going to do just fine – any objections? I’ve encountered plenty of women who have had zero regrets about cutting corners on the veil (it’s just tulle), but if you have a point to make, make it now, or live in regret forever that my wedding was ruined and it was all your fault.
Oh, you know another thing that fittings require?
UNDERPANTS.
Do you know how much the whole underpants rig underneath a wedding gown involves?
Or how much it costs?
Because I do.
And you’d think I’d be the type to buck the whole Tyrannical Bridal Underpants System and say, “I will NOT spend $150 on underpants! I shall wear cotton underpants with penguins on them! STRIKE FORTH FOR UNDERPANTS-PENDANCE!”
Except, no.
I’ve had that dress on. I need some sort of scaffolding system.
I haven’t chosen any of the particular songs necessary for wedding stuff. Phil and I have not, overnight, developed dancing skills, as we originally planned. Am considering stuffing a chunk of something radioactive under the mattress and dealing with the crapshoot that is “what super power will we wake up with?” and hoping it’s “the super power of being able to not look like the uncoordinated nerds we are for one minute and 45 seconds of dancing.”
With my luck, it would probably end up being like, the ability to open bottle caps with my armpit. Convenient, but who is even going to want to drink that?
Anyway, Internet, I’m sorry to continue to bore you with THE FACT THAT I’M GETTING MARRIED, but I am not done buying shit yet.
Oh no, not nearly done.
Much more one-time-use items have yet to be purchased! I’m a one woman economy stimulation machine!
PS – On a lame note? You will not believe how many people are leaving the “I promise to dance if you play this song” line of the invitation blank! And Phil’s mother’s invitation got lost and never arrived! And my grandmother’s invitation showed up back in our mailbox again with the label completely shredded.
If I ever get married again – which I won’t, because even if Phil and I start to hate each other, we have a pact to stay together until the bitter, smelly end – I am going to spell out the invitation in rocks on a beach and fly all my relatives overhead in a helicopter, because in terms of cost (in money, effort and frustration) it would equal out to about the same.
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed | 37 Comments »
Monday, August 16th, 2010
I licked them all myself.
I know you’re going to suggest a dampened sponge, and I’m not going to kill you for that, because how would you even begin to suspect that I have issues with paper that extend to and completely and totally include touching paper with any kind of other object, rubbing paper, or, most especially, damp paper? In short, sponge + paper would most certainly lead to my untimely death, which would be ironic, because I would probably be attempting to avoid a wedding invitation envelope-related untimely death, a la Susan from Seinfeld.
ANYway. Done and done.
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed | 7 Comments »
Thursday, August 5th, 2010
Hello, Internet!
I have come back from Pennsylvania!
I do hope you’ll excuse me for neglecting you yesterday.
I was in Newark.
And I thought of something to add to that list up there:
Ways a 4 hour layover in Newark could suck more: sit on your butt for the entire four hour layover and then sit on your butt for another hour and a half on the tarmac and then sit on your butt for a five hour flight and then sit on your butt while they take the most scenic route possible to the gate and then sit on your butt while the world’s most inefficient packers wrestle their carry on bags to the ground because you’ve been sitting on your butt way in the back of the plane.
Basically, I still can’t feel my butt.
But now I’m home! And I’ve lured you in with copius use of the word “butt,” which, come on, is a funny word.
So now that I’ve got you, let’s get to work.
Do you see this crappy picture of a picture of a cake? That’s the cake I ordered. In real life, the picture of the cake does not look at all crappy. I mean, what the hell do you take me for, right? So that is what my cake will look like, except my mother requested a red ribbon, and also, it won’t have an “M” on it, because there are no Ms in our names anywhere at all.
So I ordered it from Minooka Pastry Shop, and I didn’t try it at the time, because I am one zillion percent confident in the quality of the cake. The bottom layer is chocolate with raspberry filling and the middle layer is white cake with vanilla mousse filling, and the top repeats the bottom.
At least, that’s how it was going to be. My mother ordered a cake from the same place for my bridal shower, so I did end up getting to try it the next day. She ordered half white, half chocolate, with all raspberry jelly-ish filling. The cake itself was fantastic. I am very happy with my choices of white and chocolate cakes. They were perfect. However, I didn’t care for the raspberry filling. It wasn’t bad at all. I just didn’t really like it.
No big deal, though, I will just call and change the order and it shouldn’t be an issue. But I’m not sure what to change it TO. That is the issue. I am thinking maybe chocolate cake with vanilla mousse and white cake with chocolate mousse, maybe? What do you guys think?
I’m sticking with the chocolate and white cakes, but fillings are up in the air. Here are the ones that sound good to me: chocolate mousse, vanilla mousse, strawberry, Bavarian cream, coconut, raspberry mousse (different from the jelly), peanut butter mousse and lemon.
So, how would you create a wedding cake? I’m thinking that the simple chocolate & vanilla mousse fillings would be generally liked, but there are so many other options to consider, including some I didn’t even list because I didn’t want you to consider them.
Anyway, talking about cake and doing some critical cake thinking probably got your decision engines all revved up, huh? Let’s not let all that energy go to waste!
These were my maternal grandmother’s earrings.
My cousin gave them to me, to use in the wedding or not use in the wedding, however I choose. Of course, it would be nice to include them somehow, but they won’t work as my own earrings because… well, we’re all looking at them, right? I was thinking about maybe shoe clips, but I’d be very afraid of losing them, and plus, they’re clip-ons with the clip coming in from the side instead of the bottom. I don’t think that would work. I also considered bouquet clips, but again, would I have to worry about losing them?
What would you do with some very old, very sentimental clip-on earrings, Internet? Maybe the best thing to do would be to not include them at all, but still, I would like to.
I need to take a break here for a second, because I just looked in the mirror, and I have to tell you something. I actually bought myself a present on this trip, something I never do, and I immediately felt guilty about it. No matter, because I kept it anyway.
So I bought myself this LORAC eye shadow palette at Sephora, even though I tend to stick to the drugstore brands of make up. Now, you have to understand that I spent all day yesterday traveling and a lot of time in Newark and ok, yes, I fell into bed last night without washing my face, but come ON, consider the CIRCUMSTANCES, but what I am getting to is that my eye make up is all still there. Right where I left it when I put it on my face yesterday morning in Pennsylvania. Now, here I am in Arizona, and my eyeshadow is still lovely.
That’s pretty much all I have to say about that. Even if you don’t buy this palette, I think you definitely want a little tube of that primer that comes with it. The brush is also pretty great. And I think the palette itself is kind of a perfect range of colors for day/night. And it’s purple crocodile. Yeah, you basically should buy it.
I don’t get any money or anything for telling you that. In fact, since I bought the palette myself, thus owned it before trying it and giving you my approval, I am actually negative money in this situation. That is how much I care about you and your ability to secure yourself superior eye shadow products, Internet.
Anyway, what were we talking about?
Oh, right! Earrings! Here’s a headband!
Isn’t it fantastic? I had tried it on with the dress when I was first looking at dresses, and my mom went back and bought it for me as a surprise. Since I have dark hair, it really stands out.
It is super flashy.
So we’ve been on a hunt to find earrings to match. Since the top of my dress has some pretty beading and I can’t stand to wear most bracelets, earrings will be my only jewelry other than this fancy head bit I’m going to have going on. We have found exactly ONE PAIR of earrings that are okay so far. Finding something to match exactly is pretty unlikely, but we can’t really even seem to find something we like. My lack of desire to spend one skrillion dollars on earrings hinders the search a bit, but who knew it would be so hard?
You know, since you’ve already got your minds engaged from the cake thing and the clip-on earrings thing, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind thinking about if you’ve ever seen any earrings or know of any places to look for earrings that might suit my needs, right? I mean, isn’t this what the Internet was made for? The eventually foisting-off of the planning of my wedding?
Internet, I was also going to ask you to help me look for shoes, but I really feel like you’ve done enough for today. Give yourselves a big pat on the back for a job (that I am assuming will be) well done. Your input is valuable and, as always, your contributions to this company are greatly appreciated.
Greatly appreciated.
PS – One last thing!
How adorable are these!
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed | 46 Comments »
Monday, August 2nd, 2010
I’m still in Pennsylvania and my shower was absolutely lovely, all of my lady relatives were there and my sister put together such a nice event and the food was good and the service was good and the games were fun and not embarrassing for anyone and people won prizes and I am so, so, so spoiled with presents, especially things shaped like animals: elephant measuring cups, shark bottle opener, whale ice cream spade, woodpecker kitchen shears, monkey peeler, A PIRANHA PIZZA CUTTER. I was so excited about everything, my mom told me one of her cousins thrilled and blown away by how I reacted to receiving a box of Corningware.
People seem to forget how exciting something like Corningware is when you own 2 Pyrex dishes and a single serving/mixing/potential sickness bowl. Corningware is a big deal. I am over the moon for Corningware. 13 piece Corningware, you guys. I about lost my mind. I was all, YOU GUYS, YOU GUYS, RAMEKINS! and they were all, “Yeah, uh, we’re familiar with Corningware, you rube, open something else.”
Whatever. So I’m still in Pennsylvania and a lot is happening, but I so rarely talk about my family on here that it seems awkward and strange to remind you that I wasn’t hatched from an egg, fully grown, two weeks before you personally started reading this blog, but do indeed have parents and a sister and brother, so let’s do what I always do when I don’t know what to say or, actually, all the time, and steer the conversation towards my dogs.
Phil has been sending me pictures of my dogs. I find this one to be particularly illustrative.
I would say that this is what my kitchen ends up looking like when I go away for a week, but it’s pretty much the same as when I’m in the house, ignoring it for a week. Or two.
Notice several things about this picture:
1. Isn’t Brinkley enormous? Also, Sheldon doesn’t look it in this picture, but he is slowly passing Brinkley, height-wise, when he’s not having another jowl growth spurt.
2. Note the Dyson just sitting in the middle of the kitchen. I would say that it’s normally put away, but it is SO NEVER put away that I actually don’t have a spot for it in the house. I mean, since we moved in back in March, I never chose a spot for it because I never had a chance to put it away. This conversation happened over the phone:
“So, apparently, you have to vacuum the floor every day. There is dog hair EVERYWHERE. Every day!”
“I know. I told you that a vacuum every day. I actually was telling someone that I was probably going to come home to a sea of dog hair because you wouldn’t do it like I do every single day. Didn’t you believe me?”
“Well, I’m just saying that apparently it’s true. I guess you do run the vacuum every day.”
“Uh, what do you think I do all day? Sit around doing nothing and then make up lies about vacuuming when you come home?”
“I’m just saying, whether I believed that you vacuum every day isn’t the issue. It’s just confirmed that you do.”
“Asshole.”
3. Do you like how dirty my floors are? Did you know that dogs don’t wipe their feet when they come inside? And that Arizona backyards are usually some percentage grass and an almost equal percentage dusty dirt?
And did you know that water in Arizona does not come out of the taps cool, and does not get cold, since no one has a water COLDER on their house, only water heaters? Did you know that in order for your dogs to have cool water to drink, you need to fill the dog fountain with ice cubes?
Did you know that Newfoundlands think it’s their job to bob for any item you put in water? Did you know that Newfoundlands don’t give a shit and a half about the fact that they have a harder time controlling drool than a novocained 16 month old with a zwieback cracker?
If you knew all that, why the fuck are you judging me about my dirty floors?
4. Please don’t call Animal Control on us. I SWEAR TO GOD, we feed Sheldon. We feed him as much dry food as is reasonable, plus a little bit of wet large breed puppy food (strictly controlled protein, as feeding large breed puppies too much puppy food (with higher protein) grows their bones too fast and opens them to huge risk for cancer & joint disorders) at every meal. And snacks! He gets left over plain veggies and fruit and also cottage cheese. And organic wheat- and corn-free dog treats, because he has a delicate constitution.
I know he looks thin. We feed him PLENTY. I promise. We have been told he will stop looking so neglected in his second year, and that this year is all about growing taller. And growing jowls. We take him to the dog park and he drinks water like we’ve never let him near it in his life, and then I put up a picture and you can practically see his hip bones. Don’t report us. Take a look at that majestic golden beast on the left, who is very obviously not missing any meals.
OH ALSO? My invitations came in the mail while I was gone! I am very excited to get home. To my invitations. And my dogs. And also Phil.
Posted in Brinkley + Sheldon, Somebody's getting maawwweeed | 28 Comments »
Friday, July 30th, 2010
Internet, let me tell you about where I’ve been, in picture form, because the jet lag has me by the neck and is shaking me quite viciously, so I am not really in any mood or condition to be using my words.
Haha, fooled you! Even though there are going to be pictures, and even though I’m only 50 words in, I can tell you that you’re probably in for another 2000 words of unnecessary-ness, just like always. If you have to go potty, go now!
As usual, my trip started out AWESOME!
Remember the picture I posted of all of my belongings laid out on the coffee table? Phil packed them for me, including the laptop, into my checked bag. Which weighed 50.0 lbs. I think I had better use a lot of shampoo while I’m here, just to be safe.
Anyway, normally I carry the laptop in a backpack, along with my purse and oh, also a rolling carry on, because while some people are bingers and purgers and some people are cutters and some people jump from destructive relationship to destructive relationship, I like to express self-hatred by making myself as miserable and stressed out in airports as possible.
This time, though, I brought only a purse and a canvas bag full of library books. Now, I know that checking the laptop is not THE most brilliant thing I’ve ever done, but you guys, it was the most brilliant thing I’ve ever done. I was through security in under 2 minutes, my 6 trips to the bathroom were nearly unfettered, and I didn’t spend my entire pre-plane time clutching the straps of various bags to ward off roving bands of airport thieves.
While I was sitting and waiting to get on my flight, a guy walked by dragging a suitcase and carrying three bags of Wendy’s food. Interesting. He was followed by a man in a black polo who chose to accessorize his belt that day with a pair of handcuffs and a holstered handgun. Following them were two men, each holding a Wendy’s soda with two hands, and also, each was carrying a small white towel, laid over their hands. They were followed by yet another stern looking man, and they all went right to the counter at the gate and stood there, very close together.
You guys, you would be so impressed by how quickly I put together these totally random and minuscule and complicated details into one cohesive picture. I watch Monk, you know? I was basically Monk. I was all, “Hm, one very skinny man carrying TOO MUCH FOOD and two able-bodied gentlemen using two hands to carry a single soda each and also, a towel?” It was like, lightning fast in real life, you guys.
Anyway, when I got to the airport and printed out my boarding pass, the seat assignment was different than the toilet-seat I thought I had at home. When they loaded these gentlemen into the plane first, to take that back row of seats, it made sense. I got a free upgrade to an exit row so that the real, honest to goodness, handcuffs-covered-with-a-towel prisoners wouldn’t have to be separated from their gun-toting pals. Maybe it was their first time flying or something.
Thanks for the legroom, prison friends!
To top off my free exit row seat? There was no one in the middle seat. Just me, empty seat, and an off duty flight attendant against the window – an off duty flight attendant who DIDN’T SAY ANY WORDS TO ME THE WHOLE FLIGHT.
You guys, everything was coming up TJ.
Except, except, and of course there is an “except,” the guy in the middle seat in the row in front of me kept getting out to let his wife or their other seat mate in or out. And a couple of times, he would look into my row and comment about how much extra space I had, in a kind of expectant way. Like I was some kind of space-having jerk, and his gentle prodding would make me realize that and I’d let him have my seat. At one point, the lady sitting with me got up for a while, and the dude kept asking if there was anyone sitting there, between us, so that he could leave his cramped middle seat and come ruin our extra legroom, empty middle seat paradise. Oh, hell no. I had to give up a seat next to the toilet for this!
After a while, he just stayed standing for a long time, but not in the aisle. Since I had so much room, he just half-stood IN MY SEAT area for a good ten minutes or so. And then? And then? He look at me at one point and goes, “I’m practically in your lap!,” and RUBS MY BACK WITH ONE OF HIS HANDS.
I think my flinching away offended him, because then he told me that exit row seats have a huge drawback and it was that I had to lean forward to play mahjong on the touch screen monitor in front of me. No, sir, the drawback is that PLANE STRANGERS think that the concept of personal space extends to blocking half of my mahjong game with their butt and touching me with their PLANE STRANGER HANDS.
I also watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
Anyway, then I got to Newark.
I had a bit of a hard time finding my gate in Newark, because when I looked for it by following the arrows, I ended up in a weird basement that smelled like pee. I obviously assumed it was some kind of storage area, possibly the dwelling of the Phantom of the Airport, because of the way a random podium was shoved off into a hallway with an emergency exit and a broken pay phone.
Except no, that was my gate.
I didn’t care for Newark.
I went to my sister’s for a while, and by the time I got home, it was pretty late. After rolling out of bed the next day, I set out to fulfill my destiny as basically the king of getting married.
Of course, no one would expect me to proceed without fuel.
After a quick stop at Pappa’s to fulfill what was surely my cheese steak destiny, my brother – the only groomsman within reach – took me over to Sarno & Sons, where I basically kicked ass at picking out tuxes.
Actually, to be honest, which I am only going to do for this paragraph, our experience at Sarno & Sons was the best experience I have had with planning so far. The salesguy, Zach, realized that I basically had zero ideas and preferences and put together exactly what I wasn’t exactly sure I was looking for. I was making wedding decisions left and right with his help.
Ok, two decision, but they were multi-part decisions and also, two decisions is totally enough to satisfy the “left” and “right” portions of “making decisions left and right.
Non-grooms.
Grooms.
I knocked that out so fast that I decided to allow myself the night off from being the king of getting married, and went home to get ready to go out with my mom, sister and lady cousins.
After the bar, I went with my sister to her old apartment so that she could complete some moving tasks. It was so hot that she decided it was completely appropriate to pack and clean in her bra and underwear, but I don’t have a picture of that. Actually, I do, because outside the bar, she mooned me, and then tried to tell our mother that she was wearing shorts under her dress. She was most certainly not, and I needed the photo evidence for later tattling.
I do have this picture of my brother, though!
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“It LOOKS like you don’t know how a couch works.”
Since my brother is home from college for the summer, my mom likes to keep the house stocked with his favorite snacks. That would be convenient for me, as well, if my brother was at all normal. Which he is not.
He did offer to share some of his raw rutabaga with me, though.
Yesterday, my mother and I went to visit a florist, a project I have been dreading because I have little to no interest in flowers and the last woman we visited was extremely obnoxious. However, in my new role as the king of getting married, it ended up going incredibly smoothly. Not only was the shop owner polite and the prices reasonable, they are also able to fulfil my mother’s dreams of wrapping shit in tulle, and hanging a draping canopy above the dance floor. And they’ll provide an aisle runner and a card box. Recognizing that a polite woman well within my price range is what we in the kings of getting married business like to call, “Good enough,” we dropped a deposit and took off for our next appointment.
Our next appointment, unfortunately, was to try on my dress, which I was reasonably certain was no longer going to fit. We needed to check to see if it would need to be let out, (or if I should maybe “let myself in” a little, but I’m very busy being the king of things, so that was unlikely), and what kind of undergarments I would need to wear.
Both questions were answered quickly.
It did fit and NOT THIS SLIP.
This picture depicts the scene of me less than halfway through digging out my own legs.
You guys, I have picked the groomsmens tuxes, Phil’s tux, my dad’s tux. I got my brother fitted for his tux. I picked a florist and made the deposit. I found out I am not going to have to schedule a nervous breakdown or “totally intend” to lose some weight to fit into my dress, and confirmed the fact that the bra to solve the giant boobs/wedding dress conundrum has yet to be invented.
Today, we’re going to meet with our venue coordinator to check out the guest and sweetheart table layouts for the reception, and go over all the details one last time. Saturday, I’m going to meet my mom’s hairstylist, going to pick out a cake, and then going to meet my sister’s hairstylist (to figure out which stylist is willing to override my mother’s bang-related wishes for my wedding hair), followed by hunting down some wedding shoes and wedding jewelry.
Sunday, I am going to my bridal shower, where I assume my throne will have been delivered because I am SO TOTALLY THE KING OF GETTING MARRIED.
Phil sent me this picture.
Even kings of things miss their dogs.
And their Phils.
Posted in Brinkley + Sheldon, Somebody's getting maawwweeed, daily BS, sibling hilarity | 8 Comments »
Tuesday, July 27th, 2010
I’m pretty much just about totally ready, except for the fact that I just now got out of the shower and I have a whole load of clothes in the dryer and most of the stuff on that table is completely unnecessary if I bring it, but if I don’t bring it, I will need it more than anything else in the world, and also the fact that I haven’t chosen a suitable carry on nor printed out any sort of confirmation or information about my flight at all and am not even sure what airline I am flying oh and also I packed all my make up in a plastic bag last night thinking I was being proactive but I look like a drowned Ebola rat right out of the shower so I’m just going to have to unpack it all again which means I’m going to reconsider which make up I choose to bring based on TODAY’S mood and not based on my carefully planned single outfit and 85 other random pieces of clothing I needed, and ALSO that while I have my nice black cardigan ready to go, my super casual black cardigan is still in Phil’s car, back in the part where the DOGS ride, so it’s all gross and how the hell am I supposed to go on a trip with only one black cardigan, am I right?
Now taking bets on how many DirecTV remotes I accidentally pack into my checked bag.
(PS – I’m going to my bridal shower, not BlogHer. Gosh. Have we even met?)
Posted in Somebody's getting maawwweeed, daily BS | 7 Comments »
