Gettin’ Tipsy Up in Here

Look!  I’m an Internet Sensation!  (In my own head, that is.)

http://tipsysociety.com/2010/04/the-tipsy-wedding-project-bouquets/

If you aren’t checking out this site, you should.  It’s cute, affordable stuff PLUS they have  Hump Day Hour each Wednesday featuring a drink recipe.  The Tipsy Gals are fun and don’t take themselves or the goods they share with us too seriously.

Check it out over the next few weeks (I believe CKD+Ed Wedding posts are on Wednesdays) and vote if the mood strikes.  We need help!

Debating Heavy Issues

While hanging out on a Sunday afternoon:

Me: “I swear as long as I live I will NEVER understand what made Michael J. Fox a better basketball player once he changed in Teen Wolf.”

Mom: “It gave him super-human strength.  Werewolves are special.”

Me: “Yeah, I get that.  But it seems like he also gained a great deal of confidence from being a werewolf.  I mean, if I turned into a werewolf I wouldn’t be all, ‘OK, cool!’  I’d be like, ‘Uh, what the hell?  A little help?'”

Mom: “Being a werewolf wouldn’t be a good look for you.”

Me: “…”

Mom: “You know…with all that…hair.”

I Am Unable to Read the Word “Champagne” Without Hearing Christopher Walken’s Voice in Those SNL Sketches

It’s Friday so you’re getting bullets and wedding updates.  Double-super cop-out because I am boring!  You’re welcome.

• We chose the cake (well, cupcakes) at our first appointment, which meant that my diabolical plot to eat as much free cake as possible was thwarted.  I feel like the terrorists are winning or something.
• When the Cake Lady asked if we were planning on having some sort of cake topper, Ed looked at me nervously as I answered, “We’d like a Cylon topper of some sort.  Do you have one?”  My mom just lowered her head and signed heavily.  WHATEVER.  My geek-gene can be traced directly back to HER and Ed owns the original Battlestar Galactica TV series from the ’70s on DVD. 
• On Monday we had an appointment to meet with a wedding coordinator friend of Ed’s.  It took everything in my willpower not to call her JLo.  I’m wondering if I’m the first bride to roll up to an appointment hungover while “The Stroke” is blaring from my car.  It’s Chico, so I doubt it.
• Wedding Coordinator Who is Not Named JLo is super-awesome and may be just the person to keep my mom from having a stroke, and keep me from worrying that the vendors are going to take my money and run off to Mexico.  She has also provided us with forms to fill out with basic information and what we have booked already so she knows what she’s dealing with.  It’s…concerning how excited this has made me.  I love filling out forms, questionnaires, surveys, etc.  So much, in fact, that I basically CALLED DIBS on the forms to Ed.  Like, “Don’t even worry about them, sweetie!  I GOT THIS.  DON’T EVEN PRINT THEM.  I WILL FILL THEM OUT!” 
• Yes, it is to late to back out, Ed.  I know you read this!
• The other day I caught a Gilmore Girls rerun and realized that JON HAMM once had a brief guest starring role and almost lost my shit from the mass collision of TV worlds.  Gilmore Girls!  Mad Men!  30 Rock!  Also, he looked about 12 years-old in this episode but still so handsome in almost hurt my eyes.
• The rainy November-ish (not to be confused with “November Rain”) weather of earlier this week has finally passed and hand to God, people, I can feel my mood improving.  I might just need to sabre open some champagne to celebrate.  Plus, the backyard isn’t soggy so I can go out there and do idiotic shit with a knife and glass without breaking something in the house.  It’s called being responsible.

Have a glorious weekend, my loves.

Why I Should Not be Allowed in Public Part 473

After a morning of running errands around town I was struck with a craving for my secret shame: Taco Bell.  Secret shame #2: I am too lazy to get out of my car and use the Drive-Thru 99.9999% of the time.

However, there are times when the fear of wandering into hangry territory (hangry=hunger that has morphed into extreme crankiness/anger) overrides extreme laziness.  And I must venture outside the safety of my vehicle and possibly interract with members of the public.  Here’s where things go off the rails.

I came bounding into the shop and was honestly perplexed as to where the line started and kinda-sorta cut in front of this nice young man.  “Oh, sorry.  Did I just cut in front of you?” I asked.

“Yeah, but it’s OK.” he laughed as we switched places.

“Sorry, I usually use the drive-thru but the line was SO LONG so I came in here and the way they have this set up is so confusing!  I mean, I can’t tell who’s in line to order and who’s waiting for food.” I manically blabbered on until he slowly turned around so that he wasn’t facing me or inviting more scintillating conversation about The Ways of Taco Bell or whatever crazy-ass shit would come out of my mouth.  I mean, I could hear the crazy pouring out of me and yet I COULD NOT MAKE IT STOP.  I’d love to say I had too much coffee or was drunk, but this is, sadly, a recurring problem for me when faced with talking to humans. 

However, I’d like some bonus points for normalcy for NOT cracking up or making a face when informed my order was #269.  I mean, come ON.  It’s like the universe is daring me to be an idiot.

I Drank 30 Gallons of Wine and All I Got Was This Lousy Hangover

Hey, nerds!  Guess who has two thumbs, speaks limited French and joined the League of Women Voters yesterday?  This moi!

Turns out if you get me liquored up at a wine tasting event I will join your club, no questions asked.  Do the Jehovah’s Witnesses know about this scam?  I think they could really boost numbers if they held a wine-and-cheese social.  Just sayin’.

I’d love to tell you I ended up hammered over celebrating the fact that we have a cake for the wedding (wahoo!) or because it was Ed’s birthday yesterday (double wahoo!) but it turns out that I am just a great big idiot who does not know when to say when.  However, we still managed to beat my parents at Aggravation while I was half in the bag.  So there’s that.

Friday: My Other Favorite “F” Word

Holy shit, y’all.  This week has kicked my butt.  Remember when I had that mystery neck/shoulder/back pain a few months back?  Guess what has returned with a vengeance?  This might be a new horrific birthday surprise since it occurred during mine and Ed’s birthday is Sunday.  Awesome.  I’m laying off the liquid Vicodin this go-round in favor of stretching and Ibuprofen.  Look whose E! True Hollywood Story just got LAME.

Anyway, you’re getting a bullet point mish-mash.

• Wedding plans continue to move along although glancing at one of those “handy” checklists at TheKnot.com almost sent me into cardiac arrest.  170 days left until the wedding AND 164 incomplete to-dos?  Pass the cabernet!
• I asked Ed if we could have our wedding bands engraved with something Battlestar Galactica-related, or include “So say we all” in our wedding vows.  His suggestion involved declaring our love for cheese.  Tell me this man isn’t a winner.  I mean, REALLY.
• Cake tasting #1 is scheduled for tomorrow.  I am exceedingly excited about this errand.
• Are you tired of me talking about wedding shit?  Yeah.  That’s what I thought.  Sorry.
• Glee is back!  Was it my imagination or was every line out of Jane Lynch’s mouth brilliant?  I wasn’t as impressed with the premiere as I’d hoped, but damn it if the Vogue video wasn’t genius.
• Are we watching Parenthood?  It’s surprisingly funny and sweet and oh who am I kidding?  I love Peter Krause.  There.  I said it.  But the show is actually good.
• Great, now I’m talking about TV shows.  Riveting!  Next I’ll tell you about a dream I had or describe my lunch in detail.
• The weather has made me exceptionally grumpy but we’re finally getting glimpses of Spring.  Hello, sundresses and sandals, margaritas on the patio and barbecues.
• Speaking of barbecues, last night we went to one at a friend’s house and I met his kids for the first time.  It took all of my willpower (and Ed reminding me that I do not want to be part of an Amber Alert) not to take them home.  Instead I offered to babysit because that’s “less creepy.”  Being socially appropriate is a challenge sometimes.  Most times.

Have a lovely weekend, Interweb!  Hopefully one that involves eating lots of cake.

Bringing New Meaning to Nike’s “Just Do It” Slogan

While watching news reports detailing Tiger Woods’ less-than-stellar return to golf:

Ed: “Aw, poor Tiger.  His comeback was pretty sad.”

Me: “He lost his magic.  Wouldn’t it suck if he ran on whore-power?”

Ed: “Now THAT would be a good excuse!”

If Wedding Planning Was Like Karate I’d Be a Black Belt

Yeah, I know I said I wouldn’t turn this into a wedding planning blog but I just need to toot my own horn here.  As you may remember, I have been engaged for almost a week.  In that time I have managed to

• Book the ceremony/reception venue (all one place BOOYA)
• Book the caterer (OK, comes with the venue but STILL)
• Book blocks of hotel rooms for our beloved out-of-towners
• Schedule cake tastings.  Yes, plural.  I want to be thorough.  Don’t judge.
• Set up a website with pertinent info
• Find an invitation style we both like
• Pawn off Delegate the bridesmaid dress project to my two hottie maids of honor
• Try to make a phone call using the TV remote.  Shut up – I was distracted since Major League was on and Cerrano was up at bat and oh my hell I love that movie.

Maybe I’m not that impressive but whatever.  I feel like we’ve accomplished a lot in a short amount of time.  So, take THAT, haters who said that planning a wedding in six months is impossible and that “all the good vendors are booked a year or two in advance.”  Maybe I have low expectations or am just flat-out clueless, but I have been pretty darn pleased thus far and haven’t had to compromise a thing.

A lot of friends keep telling me that planning a wedding is hell and so awful but I find that keeping a bottle of wine nearby has really made it a pleasant experience.

UPDATE:  My gorgeous girls, Lili and Kelly, have ordered their dresses!  I feel like telling the multiple, taunting emails I receive from TheKnot.com each day to SUCK IT!

Who Will Think of the Children?

I’m just going to say it: teenagers can be jerks.  I say “can be” because I was sort of a jerk and other kids were jerky to me BUT I also acknowledge that teenagers are sort of figuring shit out and so a certain amount of jerkitude is to be expected.  Not accepted, but expected.  It’s our responsibilty as adults, role models, decent humans, whatever to smack some of the jerk out of them (not literally, but you get it).  Plus I have met some really lovely teenagers who are compassionate so I don’t like to make sweeping generalizations.

That’s why when I read about this I was… I don’t even know.  Shocked.  Disgusted.  Horrified.  A lot of commenters on articles covering this subject have made dismissive comments about kids being cruel and “Oh well, what are you gonna do?”  Here’s the thing: these kids did not act alone.  They clearly had the support and resources of adults to pull off an entire prom AND stage a faux prom.  Even if the kids (who are seniors in high school, which means they are 18 or approaching 18 and therefore legally “adults”) came up with or talked about a plot to exclude Constance, some authority figures said, “Yeah, sure.  We’ll help you pull this off.”  It’s one thing for selfish teenagers to want to exact revenge, quite another for the adults to slaughter the pig and hand them the bucket of blood.  How the hell can we as a society look at teenagers as these cruel beings who inflict harm upon others when they are following the lead of their role models? 

Lest we all call the parties responsible for the decoy prom bigoted homophobes, just remember that this prom was also held for the benefit of some disabled students.  How generous.  Apparently prom is only for the able-bodied heteros.  I’ll let you all guess as to how I, as the daughter of a disabled individual, feel about THAT one.

Anyway, I don’t know where all of this is going other than this is all just so fucked up and I’m pretty sure my kids will read about this one day and look at me the same way I look at my mom when she tells me about remembering (with great disgust) segregated lunch counters at restaurants: with a face that says, “WTF?  How can this even be legal, let alone socially acceptable?”

This Might Be What My Parents Meant When They Told Him “Good Luck”

Me: “So, were you a gigantic baby?  Newborn, I mean?”

Ed: “No.  I was premature.  Why?”

Me: “Because I was pretty average sized and I want to know what I’m dealing with here.”

Ed: “Uhhh…”

Me: “I want to be prepared for the possibility of shooting a damn Thanksgiving turkey out my vag when we have kids.  Because so help me I will start smoking when I get pregnant.”

Ed: <Pats me on head, gets up to fix himself a drink.>