I am a horrible bridesmaid. I have yet to be an actual bridesmaid, but, I've already decided I am HORRIBLE in this role.
My friend (we'll call her Buster) is getting married this spring. We survived high school together in a small town, played field hockey alongside each other for 4 years, and before going off to different colleges, promised we'd be in each other's weddings. Buster got engaged and kept her promise. She called me with the exciting news, and asked me to be one of her three bridesmaids. Of course I said yes and having never been asked to be a bridesmaid before, I was genuinely excited. I went to my local David's Bridal, tried on the dress and ordered it in the appropriate size, well before the other bridesmaid had. I was ahead of schedule and fulfilling my duties as bridesmaid number two.
The Engagement Party was last month. I went solo and brought a silver wedding frame as a gift. I met the other bridesmaids, reminisced with Buster about our high school days, chatted with the groom's parents. There was only one problem. This engagement party conflicted with another party 45 minutes away and running at the same time. I decided I could make it to both. I hate missing a good party. So after a few hours of chatting it up with the individuals who will now be a major part of Buster's life, I politely thanked the hosts, said my goodbyes and explained I had another obligation. All was going smoothly until I approached the groom's mother. She is the epitome of a Jewish mother and there is nothing like a Jewish mother. "You're leaving?!" she asked me. The disapproval was written across her face. I felt horrible, like the worst bridesmaid in history. I was checking out of Buster's engagement party to attend another friend's 28th birthday party. As one of my friends put it, "Buster will only get married once, but the other girl will have plenty of birthdays." Oddly enough, Buster did not mind my early dismissal, she was just happy to have me there in any capacity. That's one thing I always loved about her, she's so easygoing. I rationalized my actions by telling myself, "Well you're not the Maid of Honor, that would be different." I strategically wove my way to the exit through the crowd of party guests and waitresses distributing glass flutes full of Veuve Cliquot. As I slipped out the front door just as the groom's father was about to propose a toast, I cringed. Cringed at what a horrible bridesmaid I am, and because Champagne always makes me puke.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Lindsey Vonn vs. Shaun White
I absolutely love the Olympics! Winter games/Summer games, it doesn't matter, I will mark my calendar and make sure to watch a majority of events. I also mark my calendar for Shark Week on Discovery Channel every July. Love those Great Whites.
Last night was exciting for all Americans with the hype around Lindsey Vonn in the Women's Downhill and Shaun White in Men's Halfpipe. I was glued to the TV, rooting for both of these amazing athletes and silently chanting U-S-A in my head. I have to admit though, while I think Lindsey Vonn is an amazing skier and I could never even attempt to do what she does, (well, I could attempt but would be seriously injured or die in the process), I don't think I care for her as a person. She really annoyed me and unfortunately, this almost ruined my excitement for her amazing 1:44.19 Gold Medal run.
Let me start at the beginning: I've been following Lindsey Vonn's back story since promotional commercials and newscasts for the Winter Olympics aired. I know she suffered a nasty crash in Torino in 2006, I'm aware that she hurt her wrist, and her shin, and her legs were bothering her, and she didn't get to do a full trial run in Whistler. I realize this 25 year old girl has had to face some adversity to achieve her dreams...but, isn't that what it's all about? Did anyone ever think that winning a Gold Medal in an Olympic event would be easy? That there wouldn't be bruises and pain and suffering, oh my! I rooted for Lindsey Vonn and she dominated that course, but the first thing I noticed was that all the other female skiers had their height and weight posted before their run, except Lindsey. I thought this was strange, especially because earlier in the day I read an article on yahoo! stating that she is 5'10'' and 165 lbs. Did she request that her height and weight not be posted? At 165 she was one of the heavier skiers in this event but it's obvious that weight is part of the reason she's able to propel herself down that mountain. So why were her stats not shown? I could be completely wrong, but it seemed a bit prima donna to me. I also was mildly freaked out when I saw her imagining the course in her mind. I get the whole "visualize the success" mentality, but the way Lindsey Vonn did it was creepy, like she was having a bad dream or needed an aide of some sort.
During her victory interview, Lindsey cried a little which I thought was normal. Her mascara started to run and I wondered if someone would hand her a tissue. She then however, ditched the interview to go hug her husband, but instead of hugging him, she bawled hysterically on his shoulder. Long, drawn out, heavy wails that made me uncomfortable. Her husband even told her to stop crying and enjoy the moment. You just won a Gold Medal damn it! Ugh. I guess her over the top, sappy reaction to victory bothered me. Plus, they shared an awkward kiss which made me wonder if he is her husband or just another athlete/friend. Her sobbing seemed dramatic and almost disingenuous to the point where I sort of wished Julia Mancuso got the Gold because she seemed like a much more down to earth and level headed chick. And her goggles had blue glitter on them.
Either way, what Lindsey Vonn accomplished yesterday was incredible. I respect her as a skier and a competitive female athlete. But, if I were in the produce aisle at Hannaford squeezing avocados for my awesome guacamole, I would much rather run into Shaun White than Lindsey Vonn. Shaun would be so chill and laid back, maybe he would even teach me how to make a new Double Mick Guac that no one has even attempted! Lindsey would probably make a better guacamole than mine, complain and bitch about the process and then let out exaggerated tears when complimented. So annoying, and no one enjoys over salted guacamole.
Last night was exciting for all Americans with the hype around Lindsey Vonn in the Women's Downhill and Shaun White in Men's Halfpipe. I was glued to the TV, rooting for both of these amazing athletes and silently chanting U-S-A in my head. I have to admit though, while I think Lindsey Vonn is an amazing skier and I could never even attempt to do what she does, (well, I could attempt but would be seriously injured or die in the process), I don't think I care for her as a person. She really annoyed me and unfortunately, this almost ruined my excitement for her amazing 1:44.19 Gold Medal run.
Let me start at the beginning: I've been following Lindsey Vonn's back story since promotional commercials and newscasts for the Winter Olympics aired. I know she suffered a nasty crash in Torino in 2006, I'm aware that she hurt her wrist, and her shin, and her legs were bothering her, and she didn't get to do a full trial run in Whistler. I realize this 25 year old girl has had to face some adversity to achieve her dreams...but, isn't that what it's all about? Did anyone ever think that winning a Gold Medal in an Olympic event would be easy? That there wouldn't be bruises and pain and suffering, oh my! I rooted for Lindsey Vonn and she dominated that course, but the first thing I noticed was that all the other female skiers had their height and weight posted before their run, except Lindsey. I thought this was strange, especially because earlier in the day I read an article on yahoo! stating that she is 5'10'' and 165 lbs. Did she request that her height and weight not be posted? At 165 she was one of the heavier skiers in this event but it's obvious that weight is part of the reason she's able to propel herself down that mountain. So why were her stats not shown? I could be completely wrong, but it seemed a bit prima donna to me. I also was mildly freaked out when I saw her imagining the course in her mind. I get the whole "visualize the success" mentality, but the way Lindsey Vonn did it was creepy, like she was having a bad dream or needed an aide of some sort.
During her victory interview, Lindsey cried a little which I thought was normal. Her mascara started to run and I wondered if someone would hand her a tissue. She then however, ditched the interview to go hug her husband, but instead of hugging him, she bawled hysterically on his shoulder. Long, drawn out, heavy wails that made me uncomfortable. Her husband even told her to stop crying and enjoy the moment. You just won a Gold Medal damn it! Ugh. I guess her over the top, sappy reaction to victory bothered me. Plus, they shared an awkward kiss which made me wonder if he is her husband or just another athlete/friend. Her sobbing seemed dramatic and almost disingenuous to the point where I sort of wished Julia Mancuso got the Gold because she seemed like a much more down to earth and level headed chick. And her goggles had blue glitter on them.
Either way, what Lindsey Vonn accomplished yesterday was incredible. I respect her as a skier and a competitive female athlete. But, if I were in the produce aisle at Hannaford squeezing avocados for my awesome guacamole, I would much rather run into Shaun White than Lindsey Vonn. Shaun would be so chill and laid back, maybe he would even teach me how to make a new Double Mick Guac that no one has even attempted! Lindsey would probably make a better guacamole than mine, complain and bitch about the process and then let out exaggerated tears when complimented. So annoying, and no one enjoys over salted guacamole.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Seems like a good day to start a blog
I've noticed a few of my friends have blogs. I also watched Julie & Julia on a flight from Liberia, Costa Rica to Newark, New Jersey and decided if Julie can blog about cooking through Julia Child's cookbook, then I can blog about pretty much anything.
When I was 3 years old I had a journal. Not a spiral bound adolescent journal with unicorns on the cover and lined paper, but a real, black with gold trim leather bound, blank bond paper filled, adult-like journal.
Like most 3 year old kids, I was pretty much illiterate except for my name and the word candy that I would scribble in crayon on the magnetic grocery list pad stuck on the fridge. So before bedtime, my Mother and I would sit on the couch, snuggled under an old navy blue and orange handmade Afghan blanket (Go 'Cuse!) and I would tell her what to write in my journal. Unedited, unadulterated, pure and raw 3 year old thoughts. I should add I also had a mullet at this age because my hair didn't grow in on the sides as quickly as it did in the back.
Throughout my journal entries, there were two recurring themes, the phrases; Greetings Good Fellow and My Heart Beats Only For Me.
I picked up "Greetings Good Fellow" from the Count on Sesame Street. I thought this was such a cool way to say hello, and much like the word "Aloha", I would use "Greetings Good Fellow" as both a greeting and closing in my journal and in person with my Kinder-Care friends. I'm not sure who the Good Fellow is/was, but this phrase resonated with my little 3 year old desire to be unique.
After my standard Sesame Street greeting, I would ask my Mother to write "My heart beats only for me" and on occasion proceed to explain why and/or how it beats only for me. My Mom says this marked the beginning of my self-absorption, an attribute I picked up from my Dad's side of the family. I like to think it was my way of asserting my presence in this world, finding my place in the sun and at 3 years old recognizing that I am my own person.
Not surprisingly, 22 years later, my heart still beats only for me. Maybe that is why I am recently single? Just kidding. But, much like my black and gold leather bound journal captured my thoughts and reflections at 3 years old, I suppose this blog serves the same purpose. And while I no longer need my Mom to help me express my thoughts on a particular day, I'm sure she would agree that "my heart beats only for me" is still an applicable mantra of my existence.
When I was 3 years old I had a journal. Not a spiral bound adolescent journal with unicorns on the cover and lined paper, but a real, black with gold trim leather bound, blank bond paper filled, adult-like journal.
Like most 3 year old kids, I was pretty much illiterate except for my name and the word candy that I would scribble in crayon on the magnetic grocery list pad stuck on the fridge. So before bedtime, my Mother and I would sit on the couch, snuggled under an old navy blue and orange handmade Afghan blanket (Go 'Cuse!) and I would tell her what to write in my journal. Unedited, unadulterated, pure and raw 3 year old thoughts. I should add I also had a mullet at this age because my hair didn't grow in on the sides as quickly as it did in the back.
Throughout my journal entries, there were two recurring themes, the phrases; Greetings Good Fellow and My Heart Beats Only For Me.
I picked up "Greetings Good Fellow" from the Count on Sesame Street. I thought this was such a cool way to say hello, and much like the word "Aloha", I would use "Greetings Good Fellow" as both a greeting and closing in my journal and in person with my Kinder-Care friends. I'm not sure who the Good Fellow is/was, but this phrase resonated with my little 3 year old desire to be unique.
After my standard Sesame Street greeting, I would ask my Mother to write "My heart beats only for me" and on occasion proceed to explain why and/or how it beats only for me. My Mom says this marked the beginning of my self-absorption, an attribute I picked up from my Dad's side of the family. I like to think it was my way of asserting my presence in this world, finding my place in the sun and at 3 years old recognizing that I am my own person.
Not surprisingly, 22 years later, my heart still beats only for me. Maybe that is why I am recently single? Just kidding. But, much like my black and gold leather bound journal captured my thoughts and reflections at 3 years old, I suppose this blog serves the same purpose. And while I no longer need my Mom to help me express my thoughts on a particular day, I'm sure she would agree that "my heart beats only for me" is still an applicable mantra of my existence.
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