weirdest wedding ever

Since we're kinda on the topic of weddings, & it seems to be the recurring theme of my life these days, let's discuss last weekend's fiasco in navy and silk flowers. It contained, by far, the most bizarre ceremony I have ever seen in a wedding, but we'll get to that in a few.

First, the timing. The ceremony was scheduled to begin at 2 and the reception at 6. All of our fear going in was that we were going to be trapped in the church for almost four hours, trying to stay awake, avoiding direct eye-contact with the man on the cross, and restraining my man from any outbursts. (Sidebar: his family stopped going to church when, at around age 5, in the middle of a mass, my boy gasped loudly & cried out, "This is so boring!" I bet him a nickel if he'd do it again. That nickel's, sadly, still in my purse.) So, with fear & trepidation in our hearts, the man, his parents & I decided we needed to broach the subject at the rehearsal dinner. The bride & groom assured us that, no, we wouldn't be stuck in mass all day, but not with much assurance, "Well, it is a high mass, so it'll be an hour or an hour & 1/2."

It ended up being closer to an hour & 1/2, but there was too much standing up & sitting down for me to actually fall asleep. I kept joking that with all the standing up & sitting down, I couldn't wait for the fight, fight, fight. One of his cousins said, "Oh, just wait for the reception. There's bound to be some fighting there." No one but the man got the joke. My god, people! Don't you know a basic cheer?

The biggest topic of the 2 & 1/2 hour break between the wedding & reception had to be the Nazi salute the priest asked the group to give the happy couple.

I shit you not.

Near the end of the wedding, after the typically snoozetastic Bible readings, songs, candle-lightings & communion, the priest asked us all to stand again. But this time, he threw us a play-along curveball. "Everyone please raise one hand in the direction of the happy couple, to symbolize laying on hands while we bless them in prayer." Needless to say, everyone followed the priest's lead & raised his or her right hand to the right side of the stage, where the doomed duo were seated. Everyone but me & the man. Hell, I even saw his parents doing it.

Now, does everyone have that mental image? Right hands raised up in the air, slightly to the right? The look on the groom's face, as we would all hope, was pure terror. I mean, the man was extremely uncomfortable seeing all his & his new wife's friends & family giving them "the ol' Sieg Heil." Afterward, he tried to describe it from his perspective, but felt he couldn't do the creepiness justice. Heil to that, bro.

Now I ask you, friends, have you ever seen such a display at a wedding, Catholic or otherwise? 'Cause one of the other guests said at the reception that he'd seen that at several weddings. Is it an upstate thing? Is it a Super-Sized Eastern European thing? Also, do the bride & groom usually sit through Catholic weddings, or are upstaters just extra lazy, 'cause I buy the latter reason completely.

(Sidebar: We had to come home when we did before I caught the fat & bitters. You couldn't swing a roasted turkey leg in Rochester without hitting a 300+ lb. woman in her gaping mouth. Seriously, they were all enormous & unhappy & kinda terrifying, looking at me like I was crazy 'cause I didn't have any Xs on my clothing labels. Of course, every story we heard involved several pitchers of beer & hours of angry drunk driving -- not a damn thing about sobriety, happiness or particularly hard workouts.)

for the record

We aren't taking any more suggestions on wedding locations. That goes for all of you -- friends, family & foes. No more mentions of Niagara Falls, Graceland, Disney cruises, Panama, random Rochester religious establishments, Vegas, your house, our house, Central Park, City Hall, the moon, or wherever else the hell you think is romantic/convenient/hilarious.



Last time I checked, you weren't the one gettin' hitched or ponying up the cash for it. Hell, even K-at wanted to weigh in on this one.

Please, resume your regularly scheduled lives & be happy when you get an invite to the reception. Oh, did I mention, our wedding may just be the 2 of us? Yeah. Well. Just kinda fits us.

Thank you anyway for your concern. In this case, it truly is the thought that counts.

'cause we deserve it

Ladies, it's time we did something nice for ourselves, while doing something to help others. Thanks to the dim sum bum for bringing this lavish luxury in the name of charity to my attention. Now, I share with you.

During the month of October, you can get Pretty in Pink treatments, including waxing, mani/pedis, facials & among other indulgences, at some of NYC's best spas & salons.

The best part? Treatments are all $31 -- that's thirty-one dollars, people! Some treatments are regularly $150.

Why the hell are they being so nice to us? They're trying to raise awareness & money for Y-ME National Breast Cancer Organization.

Call a spa or salon NOW & book some pampering for yourself -- & do something good for someone else, for a change.

landlord's lightning response

our plumbing problems came to a nasty poop-soup head today, so i was forced to call the landlord, fearing the need for a professional plumber.

he finally arrived -- after more than an hour & 1/2. checked it out. went & got a bigger plunger. came back in & asked why the hallway stinks. i said, "we just got back in town yesterday, but i'd put it on those guys (across the hall)." he knocked on the door & asked napoleon dynamite, who said he hadn't noticed the stench. comes back in & says, "nobody knows nothing, right?" while rolling his eyes, but smiling. plunged the toilet twice. cleared it out. said to throw out the plungers we have, call him if we need him again & to have fun peeing. apologized for the muddy footprints in poo-water on the floor. giddy the whole time.

i mopped the floor & cleaned the walls for the umpteenth time today, though i still wouldn't wanna eat off either surface. now i'm finally gonna eat lunch.

unbelievable.

it's not you, it's your family

It's amazing how exhausting family can be. This weekend, the boy & I met his parents upstate for the wedding of one of his cousins. We stayed at a hotel right next door to his folks' hotel &, as planned, I acted as the group chauffeur for the weekend. And even though we didn't spend every free second with them, his family got on each and every one of our very last nerves.

His dad was in classic form, but because he was around his family, he was even more on edge, which translated into non-stop angry rants spewed at anyone withing listening range. Here's how his typical tale goes:

1) gender of character
2) race of character
3) religion of character
4) college major of character
5) where in the class character graduated (if available)
6) college character attended
7) whatever character may have said, done, worn, or other nonsense
8) silence -- sweet, sweet silence, which only lasts a few precious moments

Seriously, people. These are the only things that matter to this man, who rants constantly about the narrow-mindedness & ignorance of the religious right, Catholics, fundamentalist Muslims, and any other religiously-inclined intolerant person. Oh, the delicious irony that he just doesn't see.

Our weekend of family research led us to conclude that, other than himself, the only members of his dad's family who aren't completely self-absorbed, loud annoyances are his grandma & the cousin who got married.



His mom, as you might assume, has attained sainthood.

And it is fan-fuckin'-tastic to be home again.

a theory on carpet and drapes

While tweezing my eyebrows today, I came to a weird realization. The area south of my pantular equator is also in need of some tending. Is this common?

I decided to take a trip to the Rite Aid to investigate & creep myself out. Wandering the aisles of the store, I'd take a gander at the random women (poor, poor science experiments).

There were a few with enormous, out of control bushes above their eyeballs, and just the possibility of other enormous, out of control bushes on their bodies made me a little nauseous.

Has anyone else thought of this frightening comparison, or is it just me?

In the meantime, I've got a little gardening to do.

r.i.p., dream job

Childhood dream of working on toys & games for a living.


Time of death -- high noon.

We will never forget you.

god bless the labor day weekend

Or Satan bless -- I'm not picky. Either way, this was a super-fun, busy weekend. It was full of great food, lots of friends & had the added bonus of 3 whole Bitch Cakes experiences. And if you know her, you know what fun that is.

we chose to go to jersey

Yeah, you read that right. The man & I went to a BBQ at my friend Ted's in the heights of Jersey City. He & his hubby Ricky hosted a fantabulous soiree (which seems to be an annual shindig) abundant with meats & show tunes. They're both in the thick of the NY theater scene, so it would've been odd if the backyard would've been filled with preachers & accountants. And of course, my world famous cupcakes were a hit. By the way, I'm thinking about branding them as "D-cups," or maybe "Fifi's D-cups." What do you guys think about that?

That night, I dispatched for RightRides, but I'll tell you more about that later. That's a whole long post, in & of itself.

breakin' all the rules -- okay, just 1



On Sunday, Bitch Cakes, the man & I all went down to one of our friendly neighborhood playgrounds to swing. Not in the sexy way. Old school, down-home, real-life swinging. On swings.

Turns out, adults aren't supposed to enter the playground without the accompaniment of a child, but we weren't there to swig warm beer & piss ourselves on benches, nor were we there to pick up "dates," so I think we were right to be there.




It just felt so good to bask in the same kinda endorphins we did as diablitas/o. I think this is some therapy I'm gonna need more & more often.




and then there was ice cream

If you've never been to the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, then you're not really a New York ice cream lover. That's just all there is to it. There may only be 8 flavors, but they're the most luscious, indulgent 8 flavors of ice cream that humans may ever have the pleasure of tasting. The Big D had a butter pecan/coffee cup with fresh strawberries on top. Look at that first lick of heaven (also the title of her autobiography).
Bitch Cakes had some coffee & chocolate, I believe. Whatever it was, doesn't she look happy?
The man got strawberry, coffee & vanilla chocolate chunk & I got coffee, strawberry & chocolate. What a delicious reason to live in Brooklyn.


Of course, we also had to pose in front of the gorgeous Manhattan scenery, boobs & all, just to piss off the line of Asian wedding parties who were waiting to get their pictures taken where we were standing. Thought there was gonna be a rumble. These bitches on wheels definitely would've come out on top.