more about the damn wedding

The bride-to-be called me the other day, to "catch up" (aka - talk about the wedding). I had to keep reminding myself... It's her special day... It's not my wedding... It's her special day... It became my silent mantra. I hung up feeling even more annoyed.

A list of things that annoyed me:

~ She asked me if I was bringing a guest, and I said I wasn't sure. She said, "Oh, I thought you'd bring Heather or Becky, or one of your girl friends that I knew." Is it just me, or does anyone else think bringing a female friend is completely strange? Furthermore, why would she assume that I wasn't bringing a male guest? Damnit. I could find a guy to bring if I wanted to. I think.

~ And while we're on the subject... she confirmed that everyone in the bridal party is bringing a date/guest. The table situation at the reception will be loads of fun. Kinda like being a third wheel on a date, but with extra couples. (I might have to take Joe up on his offer after all, to avoid that whole ordeal.)

~ The salon she's going to get her hair done doesn't take appointments. We just have to show up early and "hope for the best." (It's her special day... It's not my wedding... It's her special day... ) There are 6 people involved with the wedding that are planning to get their hair done there. I'm thinking I'd be better off getting my hair done in the Northeast and paying for it myself (bride-zilla had offered to pay for us if we went to the salon near her house). Can anyone recommend a good place?

~ And sadly, the transportation situation hasn't changed. I'm still driving myself to and from the church and reception.

I was at a small staff party after work today, and my co-workers asked about the wedding. They were appalled at the lack of organization, especially since the bride-to-be taught at our school for a few years, and everyone who worked with her knows about her anal-retentive attention to detail.

The faculty began discussing weddings they've been in (or been to). Several of the older staff members recall when each groomsman drove the bridesmaid that they were partnered with. (I've never heard of that, but my mother confirmed it.) The younger teachers talked about busses, trolleys, limos, stretch SUVs... and the fun of riding with the wedding party. Nothing like chugging a beer on the way to the ceremony, eh?

Anyway, four faculty members are going to the ceremony, and two of those four are going to the reception. They started talking amongst themselves to work out a ride situation for me, because they've all seen the dress and they agree that it wasn't made for driving. The conversation went sort of like this: "Okay, so if you drive to the reception hall and leave your car there, I can pick you up on my way to the church... then the sisters can drop you off at the bride's mother's house and you can get someone from the wedding party to drive you to the reception. Then you can drive home." At this point, my principal broke in with, "No, if you're driving home, that means you can't drink. That's no fun." (I like the way she thinks...) "So what if you get one of your parents to drop you off at the church, then after the ceremony you can come back to the convent with us for awhile, and we'll drive you to the reception. Then you can take a cab home." And so on. So at least now I have some options. It just seems like a lot of trouble.

Anyway, I just needed to vent all that. And now I feel a little bit better.

(It's her day... It's her special day... It's not my wedding... It's her special day...)

KIT

I'm in the process of cleaning out my closets looking for stuff to sell at a flea market. (Teachers are pack-rats... deciding what to get rid of has been a painful process...) I came across my old yearbooks and in an act of supreme procrastination, I decided to flip through them. But it wasn't the pictures that held my attention. It was the heartfelt messages left by friends and classmates. Here are a few gems for your entertainment...

5th Grade

Good luck in the future. K.R. (Clearly 5th grade was quite the turning point in our lives. I'm not sure which future she was referring to, since we still had 3 more years of school together.)

I hope we play this hot summer. See you in 6th grade! R.R. (I still speak to this person. And she still writes ridiculous things on my birthday/Christmas cards. Go figure.)

6th Grade

Have a fun summer! (Ha, ha, ha!) Yours truly, C.K. (Apparently the thought of me enjoying my summer was quite amusing to him.)

Have a wierd summer you dunce. R.C. (I still speak to this person as well. And if he called me a dunce now, I'd hit him over the head with a chair, I would. Did you spot the misspelled word?)

Have a great summer. Your a terrific pal or friend. Keep in touch. B.K. (I'm glad she defined "pal" for me. I'd hate to spend my summer at the library looking that up. While I was there, I might have also checked the spelling of the word "you're"...)

Surf's up dude! Have a great summer! B.W. (Yeah. No comment.)

7th Grade

Your sprung from jail for 3 1/2 months. Have a good time! M.P. (Another heinous misspelling of the word "you're"!!!)

Party on! Bag me lots of sun and have lots of fun! Your bestest friend, K.C. (Interesting... I had to look this person up. I had no idea who she was.)

Hope you have fun all summer long! B.M. (Not just one or two days, mind you. The WHOLE summer.)

You're my bestest friend and if I ever see you with Jordan I'll kick you're butt. Love, C.H. (I do know who this bestest friend was. And the Jordan she's referring to is none other than Jordan Knight. Of NKOTB fame. We were so lame. Did you find the misspelled "your" in this message??)

Hi! T.J. (He has quite a way with words...)

8th Grade (This is where it gets really profound.)

Yo Age, have an awsom summer. Were your bobo jeans. Yours truly, L.L. (I don't know how I was friends with a person who would write something like this.)

Age, I hope you fall off a building and die. (Joke!) PS – Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! PPS – Good luck in Ryan - a happy note! C.W. (This boy used to stick a plunger on his bare chest for fun.)

Age, it's been a blast knowing you for the past 8 years. Just remember, LIFE IS FOAM. C.K. (I have no idea what it means. But I'm sure it was important at the time.)

Have a great summer! Even though we don't talk much, I think your a great person! Good luck in Ryan! Love ya! T.R. (Like, ohmygod! She totally speaks in exclamation marks! And she thinks I'm great! Based on absolutely nothing! I'm so honored that I'll ignore the misspelled "you're"!!!)

(Side note: What totally kills me is that a whole bunch of people that never talked to me wrote their phone numbers in my yearbook. Like after 8 years of not being friends, they wanted to start hanging out over the summer.)

9th Grade (The high school years! Careful… you might recognize your initials here!)

My handwriting sucks. Have a good summer. Party on. G.W.

Yo Gomer! What's up? See ya next year. K.K.

10th Grade

Moshi moshi. Don't staple your lungs together. PS – Did you have time for your yeast infection yet? E.M.

I failed my Spanish exam. I'm going to kill somebody. Anyway, have a great summer and see you next year (if I make it). R.R.

Good luck as a junior. Hope to see you and the rest of the escapees over the summer! Good luck with Dr. Fritz. PS – Stop hogging the cheese danishes. T.G.

It was nice having you in all my classes (except gym) so I can get my homework. Next year the committee can try to figure out what Greg is. B.M.

11th Grade

I must admit that thanks to you this has been a very interesting year. Next play we can resume our guy watching (especially Rick's manly buttocks!) M.S. (I don't remember anyone in high school having "manly buttocks"…)

Have a nice summer. Don't spontaneously combust or anything. Lab was fun! Keep in touch (not literally). L.P.

I hope I don't see you this summer. I'm rather sick of you. I hope you have an icky summer. E.M.

Have a really crappy and shit-like summer. (Oh hi, Mrs. Adrienne's mom.) I dispise you 4-ever. G.W. (I had some great friends that year )

I'm gonna spare you my senior year. The senior year entries are more like novels than messages. People tend to get all mushy when you're graduating.

I don't remember anything I wrote in anyone else's yearbook... I just hope my messages didn't sound as dopey as these.

weddings. blech.

I'm in a wedding at the end of the month. I have been in two weddings in the past three years, and I've been to several others. This one, however, takes the cake. I've never been involved in such a bizarre wedding. First there was the shower situation. I got an email from the bride's sister (maid-of-honor) in November asking us to save the date for the shower (March 17th - blah!). I sent an email back to her and the other three bridesmaids introducing myself and offering my assistance with planning, cooking, favor making, etc. I included my email address and phone number. I never heard from any of them. Weird.

Then, sometime in February I received an invitation to the shower. About a week later, I got another email from the maid-of-honor letting us know what her mother would be cooking, and asking if we could bring two dishes to the shower. She also wanted to know if we had ideas for shower games. Mind you, this was two weeks before the shower. I sent an email back to everyone saying what food I would bring, and offered my assistance yet again with decorations and preparation. The maid-of-honor emailed me back, but still nothing from the other bridesmaids.

(Just so you know, I got a chance to meet the bridesmaids at the shower, and they were all very delightful people. Apparently they're not big on email. I don't know.)
So here's my latest wedding gripe. The bride-to-be emailed all of the bridesmaids last night with some last minute wedding details. I found a few of them a bit... odd. At least compared to the other weddings I've been involved in.

First of all, the bride-to-be said that she and her sisters are getting their hair done at a salon near them. If we (the other bridesmaids) want to join them, it would be her treat. However, I'm assuming that if I chose to get my hair done elsewhere, I'd have to pay for it.

Then she said if we plan to get ready at our own homes, we should be at the church by 2:15 (wedding starts at 2:30). She also mentioned that the reception hall has valet parking. So does this mean there's no transportation? I have to drive myself to the wedding in my red satin ballgown and gold high heeled sandals? I've never been to a wedding that didn't provide transportation for the bridal party. I'm not sure if there's a parking lot at the church, or if I'll have to park on the street and walk (in my gold heels and strapless ballgown) to the church. God, I hope the weather is nice.

Also, she included the date for the bachelorette party, which is next weekend. This is the first I've heard about it, and I already have plans for that day. Now I have to rearrange my plans (which isn't a huge deal, but still...) so that I can be there for the bachelorette party. I have no idea what the plans are. The bridesmaids weren't involved in the planning of that, either.

And finally, in her email the bride-to-be mentioned that there would be no head table, so we would be sitting with our guests. I also found out that I am the only bridesmaid not bringing a guest. The maid-of-honor is married, and the other three bridesmaids are either dating or engaged to someone. Lovely.

Which brings me to my next complaint. If you're not dating someone, who do you bring to a wedding? I don't really have any male friends. Most of the guys I know are the boyfriends/fiances/husbands of my female friends. Ugh. This sucks.

So if you feel like going to a wedding on April 28, email me. All you have to do is show up for the reception in a suit and keep me company for a few hours. Free food and drinks!

And if you have any wedding horror stories to share, or you would like to comment on my complaints, feel free. (Come on, recent brides and brides-to-be... I know you wanna tell me what a bitch I'm being! Go for it!!!)

Like the wolf.

Ever have one of those days where you eat strange combinations of food, and nothing seems to fill you?

Yeah. Today was one of those days.

Normally I eat on a very rigid schedule. Breakfast at 7:30-ish, small snack at 10, lunch at noon. Then I get home and eat dinner at around 6. And that's it for the day. I'm very fond of my schedule, and I get cranky when I don't follow it. It upsets my delicate constitution.

Today started out fairly normal. I had oatmeal for breakfast (low sugar apple cinnamon). For snack, half of a soft pretzel - gotta love the Catholic school recess! Lunch was a Weight Watchers pizza (no meat today... it's Friday...) with a sugar-free Jello.

When I got home from work, I was starving. I was also exhausted. The kids were crazy-loco this week, and I had a particularly rough afternoon with one of them involving projectile pencils and numerous pieces of furniture kicked around the room. But anyway. I wanted to eat dinner before I went out tonight, but I also wanted to squeeze in a nap. The nap won. I slept for an hour and then went downstairs to find something to eat. I reheated some leftover risotto (yum), followed by a flour tortilla with melted cheese (what I refer to as a "Mexican grilled cheese").

At that point, it was time for me to head to Holy Family. The honors society was having its induction tonight... a FRIDAY night... and I had already promised my friends that I would go. After we sat through a corny 10 minute ceremony and got our pins, we headed downstairs for refreshments. I had a cup of lemonade, one cookie and a piece of pineapple.

When I got home, I found a movie on TCM ("To Sir With Love") and settled in to watch. About halfway through, I realized that I still hadn't eaten a REAL dinner, but it was already after 9 and I didn't feel like cooking. I grabbed some saltines, peanut butter and jelly and had myself a little snack.

And now it's midnight and I want real food. Like a cheeseburger or spaghetti or something. But I'm tired and I think I'm just going to go to bed.

Just some stuff you didn't really need to know about me.

You better run, you better take cover.

Those of you who know me have probably heard me mention that my godson Kyle is in a boychoir. They go on concert tours every summer, and as a result, Kyle has already been to South Africa, Alaska, Canada and Southeast Asia. (Lucky bastard...)

About two years ago, I heard that the choir was planning a 2007 tour to Australia. I asked Kyle to get me information about chaperoning the trip, and he put me in touch with his choir director. After sending the director an email asking if they needed chaperones, I received a brief response saying they had enough people to chaperone. Okay. No biggie. I emailed him back asking him to keep me in mind if a position opened up. Then I went on to tell him that I sang with three choirs, worked at three summer camps (and was the music/drama specialist at one of them), taught for seven years, and have a lot of experience supervising children of all ages. (I figured it couldn't hurt to sell myself. ) He wrote me back the same night saying I have "terrific experience" and that he wanted to meet me. Cuz I rock. (Okay, he didn't say I rock… but we all know it's true.)

So I went to a tour meeting, talked to the director and long story short (too late), I was invited to be a chaperone on the tour. In Australia. Oz. The Land Down Under. The other side of the world. Holy fucking shit.

It's not exactly a vacation. I'll have chaperone duties during the day (I'll be responsible for about 5 or 6 boys and their belongings), but I will have most of my nights free. And this trip is expensive. But when I found out how much we're doing, I didn't mind the cost so much. We leave on July 1st and fly into Los Angeles (I've never been to the West Coast… wooooo!), and from there we fly to Melbourne for 4 days. Then we fly to Perth for 3 days (the other side of the continent!), and then to Adelaide for 2 days. From there, we go to Ayers Rock (in the Aboriginal desert) for 1 day, and then onto Sydney for 3 days. Then Bathurst for 1 day, Brisbane for 2 days and Bundaberg for 4 days (where we'll visit the Great Barrier Reef). We arrive home on July 22nd.

I'm ridiculously excited about the whole thing. I still can't wrap my brain around it. It's like, I know I'm going, but I can't believe it yet. It's completely surreal.

So that's what's new in my world. :)

if you've got a weak stomach, skip this one...

When I went to bed last night, my stomach was feeling a little queasy, but I didn't think anything of it. An hour later, I was throwing up in the bathroom. Good Lord. I haven't thrown up in almost 7 years (no lie). I went back to bed, but I couldn't lie down because it made me nauseous. So I was sitting up in bed, lying back against pillows. I slept on and off, but not comfortably. Initially, I was freezing... so I put on my flannel pajamas (pants and a button down shirt) with a long sleeve t-shirt underneath. I also had on a pair of socks and over those, a pair of knit bootie slippers that Melissa got me for Christmas. Plus a comforter and a blanket. And I was still cold. Then sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up dizzy and sweating. It felt like I was being smothered. I peeled off the flannel shirt and the booties and then the socks and then I started to feel cooler. I fell asleep like that, on top of my covers and woke up an hour later freezing again. Sheesh. I put my socks back on and fell back asleep... then woke up at 6 AM and threw up again.

So now I'm sitting downstairs watching "The Soup" (thank God for Joel McHale... even though it hurts to laugh), sipping flat ginger ale and eating stale graham crackers. And praying that everything will stay down.

I HATE being sick.

tick... tick... tick...

Today I went to Babies 'R' Us to shop for baby shower gifts. I think I've been there once in my life, but I had forgotten how dangerous that place is. Even though I was armed with registry papers, I wanted to buy EVERYTHING in the store. Every pacifer, every onesie, every soft and cuddly stuffed friend, every bedtime board book. It was all SO DAMN CUTE.

And that's not the worst part. There were pregnant mommies-to-be strolling the store making their registry choices with scanners. And there were mommies with itty-bitty babies in strollers and carriers.

One trip to that store was all it took. I want to be one of those mommies. I want an itty-bitty baby in a cute little onesie with a cuddly stuffed toy. I need a husband first, of course. (At least the way I want to do it.)

Sigh. I don't feel like waiting. I hate waiting.