Miscellaneous

True Life: Engaged and Quarantined

2 Comments

February 14th, I got engaged to the love of my life. One month later on March 14th, we made the split-second decision to flee our home and asked his sister if we could temporarily stay with them in Texas. And here we are on April 14th, basically moved in with my future in-laws with no end in sight and trying not to kill each other. At least once a day I catch myself looking down at my ring, taking a deep breath, and reminding myself that I signed up for this. But did I? Did any of us?

I think everyone can agree that besides Tiger King, the only thing keeping us sane in 2020 is the abundance of memes on Instagram. My personal favorites are the ones like “Day 27 of Quarantine, I have realized that I can’t stand the sound of my husband breathing.” I spoke to a friend recently who said she never realized how loud her partner chewed and has now resorted to playing loud music whenever they dine together. Which is every single meal, every day.

Don’t get me wrong, things could be worse. SO MUCH WORSE. I have a roof over my head, a job, and plenty of (too much?) food. I also have a loving partner who said last night that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. To which I said, “Really? Still?”

Living together is hard. I remember when Chris and I first made the decision to move in together, about 1.5 years into our relationship. I was SUPER nervous about it. I had lived with people my entire life, from parents to roommates, to more roommates, then MORE roommates, because NYC, ya know? Anyway, I had never shared a room with someone besides for one year in a dorm with a roommate who basically slept at her boyfriend’s apartment. And I certainly had not shared a bathroom with a boy besides my brother, who I could just hit if he left the toilet seat up. But a tiny 1-bedroom apartment with a man who I couldn’t just hit when I got annoyed? That was uncharted territory. And it was not easy.

There were socks everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE. I would take the sheets off and find anywhere from 2-7 single socks at the bottom of the bed. Socks in the bathroom, in the living room under the couch. RIGHT next to the hamper. And don’t get me started on the dang toilet seat. It’s an ongoing battle. We are still in training, much like when you adopt a puppy, but it’s “please don’t pee on the seat” instead of “please don’t pee in the corner on the rug” (but also sometimes that).

Thankfully, this quarantine happened after Chris and I had already been living together for 3 years, so we had both come to terms with each other’s eccentricities. We were prepared. Or we thought we were.

Narrator: “They were not prepared.”

Living with each other in your own home is one thing but living in someone else’s home is a completely different thing, especially when it is one of your family’s homes. Don’t get me wrong, I love his family. First of all, they are INCREDIBLY generous allowing us to come from the heart of the pandemic in NYC and move in on 6 hours’ notice, literally. Also, they have never been anything but welcoming to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that it is not my house.

There’s a level of comfort in knowing where the containers are and knowing that each top has a bottom because if it doesn’t, you throw it out.

Or knowing that the pillows are the right height so your neck doesn’t feel off all day.

Or knowing that by 11 am, everyone is awake and you can blast music to do a workout class or run the blender to make a protein shake.

Or knowing when the dishes in the dishwasher are clean. (Side note: I have spent 4 weeks now using my incredibly stealthy detective skills to try and figure out their system. I still have not made any headway.)

If you’re sitting at home reading this and playing the world’s smallest violin for my troubles, I get it. There are people out there struggling to survive. People in abusive relationships or without loving partners. I am lucky to have a loving partner, but he treats this house like it is his parent’s home with mommy dearest to clean up after him. Except she isn’t here, I am. And I am the guest, so I feel the need to clean up, pitch in, cook, fold laundry, etc. He feels the need to do NONE of those things except prance down the stairs when he smells bacon. This literally happened today.

This is certainly not the way I would have predicted our engagement to go. Thankfully, we have both been really busy with work. As you know from my previous blogs, one way we try to stay sane and keep from yelling at each other for breathing is by having a weekly date night. This has disappeared. I keep telling him he needs to plan something for me. ANYTHING. A picnic for lunch. A hike. Breakfast in bed. He told me today he is “just waiting to surprise me.” I told him it’s been 4.5 weeks and I’m sick of waiting. But what other choice do I have? Where am I going? Literally NOWHERE.

The good news is that we were not in any rush to get married, so we haven’t lost money or time on deposits or slashed dreams. The bad news is that there are no future plans in place to keep us together. We are holding it together by a tiny band of platinum and a not-as-tiny diamond. And love. Sometimes. When he picks up his socks.

Continue Reading

Miscellaneous

The Royal Wedding

3 Comments

11 am on a Saturday. Who’s tired? If your eyelids are drooping, it’s either because you were out late last night (and you’re probably much younger than 30), or because you woke up at the butt-crack of dawn to watch people who are vastly more elegant than you and me get married. (I mean come on, I just used “butt-crack” on my public blog.)

I’m exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. I set my alarm for 5 am to watch all of the pre-wedding coverage, but God didn’t want that to happen (read: I shut my alarm off because I was like “HELL NO IT’S SATURDAY), and I finally rolled out of bed at 6:34 am. Aka PERFECT TIMING. I turned on the TV and Hoda and the entire Today Show crew were almost sh*tting themselves because the procession, beginning with Prince Harry and William were due to arrive in 8 minutes. Exactly. This thing was more exactly choreographed than the Macy’s Parade. And that’s saying a lot. As soon as the princes emerged from their cavalcade of cars (at 6:42 am exactly), I had tears in my eyes. Or maybe it was just leftover remnants of sleep. Could have been both.

I got up and put on my tiara. You think I’m kidding, don’t you? Well if you think I’m kidding, you don’t know me very well. I love a good tiara. I’m 99% certain I was meant to be a princess. DAMN YOU MEGHAN MARKLE FOR TAKING THE LAST ELIGIBLE PRINCE. Anyway, so there I am watching the princes and other royal family arrive, on the couch, tiara perched on my head. Then, of course, emoji-bf awakes from his slumber and finds me in the living room, tiara and all. Did you ever think that the most embarrassing thing that could happen to you is your boyfriend finding your Pinterest board of engagement rings when you’re not even living with him? I see your Pinterest board, and I raise you this situation. Where your boyfriend finds you on the couch before the sun rises, in a tiara, crying, watching people walk down the street to a wedding. A wedding you have zero ties to. Alas, this is not the first time he has seen me do ridiculous things. He just rolled his eyes and went to brush his teeth.

Let’s talk about the bride’s dress and procession. I don’t need to show you photos because the internet has millions of them already. I absolutely love weddings. But more than I love weddings, I LOVE judging bridal gowns. I can sit and watch a marathon of Say Yes to the Dress for hours and I can say NO to every single one. But Meghan was gorgeous. (Yes, we are on a first-name basis. I was at her wedding, after all!) I love a simple gown, and the boat neck was beautiful. The massive lace veil, together with the stunning tiara borrowed from Queen Mary was enough as far as accessories. I loved the understated complete package, with minimal makeup. The commentators kept talking about how she loves her freckles and wanted them to show. Who knows if that’s true, but it looked natural, which is best, because the look on Harry’s face… UGH. I mean, COME ON. SO CUTE!!! How many memes are going to come from that sparkle in his eyes!? “Get yourself a man who looks at you like this.” I can see it already. I am sure it already exists on the internet. The absolute best part of the wedding was when she walked to the altar, and Harry said “You look amazing.” Then different commentators think he either said “I love you” or “my Heart.” KILL ME NOW. SO ROMANTIC. I’M OBSESSED. CAPS NECESSARY. And the little kiddies behind her holding her train?? UGH. My heart was bursting.

Now to the part I know y’all have been waiting on… my commentary on the actual service. Blah blah blah boring white royal wedding blah blah blah BLACK PASTOR KILLS THE GAME. Yeah, if you guys didn’t see it, go watch it. Bishop Michael Bruce Curry brought the house down. Almost literally. The white people in that room did not know what to do. Now guys, this was the not the first time I had heard a black preacher tell people THE WORD. I know what you’re thinking, didn’t this girl say she was Jewish? Well yeah, but I’ve been around. I’ve been to African Church on Christmas. More than once. And let me tell you something about the services led by black preachers… people don’t just sit there and take it, they stand up and feel the word like it is being delivered straight from god. I was watching Bishop Curry up there talking with his hands, quoting Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and I was waiting for Meghan’s mom to stand up and say “Glory Hallelujah! Praise Jesus!” See below, Meghan’s mom biting her lip trying to keep herself in her seat.

Unfortunately, this did not happen. But it was close to happening. The actual words the bishop spoke were great, about love and fire, and laying your swords down by the riverside… he even slipped in a couple references to slavery and it was EVERYTHING. However, the best part of his address wasn’t the actual address, it was the news cameras panning around the room at the (still-largely-white) guests and watching their faces. They were confused. Panicked. Highly entertained. It reminded me of myself that very first time in black church. And then, just when I didn’t think it could get better, we pan to an all-black gospel choir singing Stand By Me. GTFO. AHHHH SO AMAZING. Stick a fork in me, because I was DONE. Tears, so many tears.

Then came the famous kiss outside the church, which was chaste at best, but who even cares, because the gospel choir was at it again! With Etta James’s version of Amen/This Little Light of Mine. Good lord. That was totally worth waking up at 6 am.

The happy, adorable couple then left in their horse-drawn carriage, on a parade processional a couple miles long, followed by 26 mounted soldiers, in the pomp and pageantry I can only imagine I will also have on my wedding day, because duh, doesn’t everyone? Not to be upstaged by the fabulous gospel choir, Princess Charlotte waved them off, and stole the show entirely. Now I need a nap. Oh, and Oprah, you’re officially invited to my wedding, too.

Continue Reading

Long Legs and other Personal Problems

How To: Professional Wedding Guest

3 Comments

In the past 3 years, I have attended so many weddings, I call myself a professional guest. In the past 2.5 years, I’ve had emoji bf on my arm, and we have gotten it down to a science. This upcoming Saturday, we are attending yet another wedding, and in honor of it being the last one on the books for 2017, I am doing all of my readers a favor and imparting my sage advice.

Never, I repeat NEVER , agree to be a bridesmaid. Being a bridesmaid is more than the title, it is basically indentured servitude. I know this from watching my friends as they perform their serf duties to the almighty Queen Bride, not from actual experience, since I have ONLY had to do this one time. Being a bridesmaid means a lot of things. For starters, it means you’re going to drop $2 grand on the occasion, at the very least. You are required to be at all events, you need to fly to a destination bachelorette, you have to go to the bridal shower, you have to buy a godawful dress you will never wear again and it will unquestionably make you look like a rotund banana, you have to shell our hundreds of dollars for hair and makeup, and of course, you have to smile the whole time and lie to the bride. Am I exaggerating? Maybe a tiny bit. But if you are a bridesmaid, you should probably just declare bankruptcy and block off all of your weekends for the six months leading up to the wedding. Also, being a bridesmaid means being in all of the photos. This takes away from valuable open bar time. Which brings me to my next point.

Always find the open bar as soon as you enter the reception. This is possibly the best advice I can give you. Keep your eye on it, and always know if the line is getting long. If you are assigned a table, but not a seat, it is important to position yourself at the table so you can view the line at the bar at all times. You will thank me for this.

Take selfies. If you didn’t take selfies, did the wedding even happen? Also, you can take many photos of the bride and groom, but they hire professionals for that. Don’t waste your time. Take one photo of the happy couple, then stick with the selfies.

Learn the bartender’s name. Also tip him, but knowing his name is key. Back when I was a wedding guest novice, I was embarrassed when the bartender remembered me and my drink order. Now that I am a professional, I realize how useful this is. Why waste a valuable second explaining to the bartender that your vodka soda should have a splash of grenadine? This is a second that you could be burning calories on the dance floor!

Always have two drinks on your table before the toasts begin. Once you’re on a first name basis with the bartender, this should not be difficult. You should be on a first name basis before the toasts, if all goes well. The worst thing at weddings is being stuck at the table during interminable speeches with no alcohol and no clandestine way to escape to the bar. Once the toasts begin, you are trapped at your table for 10-60 minutes. Always be prepared. I learned that in Girl Scouts.

Dance!! Nobody likes a downer wedding guest. Also, no one is judging your dance moves. If someone is sitting at his/her table judging you, it’s only because he/she is jealous of your moves. Plus, killin’ it on the dance floor is a good way to get into a lot of wedding photos, without having to be in the wedding party. Load up on the liquid courage (it’s FREE!) and get it moving. Limbo, electric slide, wobble, even a little Mambo #5. It’s all a blast. Also, the more Fitbit steps you get after midnight, the less you have to get the next day. Which will come in handy, since you will undoubtedly have a slammin’ hangover (see tips above about boozing it out).

Bring Flip Flops. This goes hand in hand with dancing, and it’s the “adult” version of bringing socks to Bar/Bat Mitzvahs as a 13-year-old. How can you break it down on the dance floor if your feet hurt!? If you bring alternative footwear, you’re sure to have a better time.

Photobooth. The more props the better. Photobooth pics are better party favors than anything that the happy couple will actually give out. Also, the photo quality in photobooths is usually better than a phone camera. Some of my favorite wedding gems of the professional guest couple, (that’s us), have been from photobooths!

Borrow Dresses. It’s inevitable that you will be in photos. And it’s also inevitable that you will have worn every dress in your wardrobe at least once if you go to as many weddings as I do. Luckily, I have a best friend who wears the same size! I often shop her closet when I am out of options in my own. Other possible options for cheaper dresses: TJ Maxx or Rent the Runway. But I am a bigger fan of borrowing because it’s my favorite price: free!! Another option which may not work for everyone – wear your prom dress! I did this for a formal wedding last year and it was a huge hit (See: the feature photo and the first and last photobooth photos above.) 10 years later, still rocking it! It finally paid off being overweight in high school; it’s a bit too big on me now!

Buy a gift off the registry or give cash. Never go off-script here. I’ll never forget when my sister received what everyone thought was an ashtray for her Bat Mitzvah. Now, logically, of course we did not think any of the guests would have purchased smoking paraphernalia for a 13-year-old, whether or not she was officially a “woman” in the eyes of the Jewish faith. But still, who would buy a mini silver tray for anyone, anyway? This is a tidbit I think about whenever I go to buy a wedding gift. If they wanted a small silver tray, they would have registered for it. And if they didn’t register for it, guess what, they didn’t want it. Don’t be a hero and find something obscure they must have “forgotten” to register for. They didn’t forget. Or, give them some cold hard cash. It doesn’t have to be enough to “cover your plate” anymore, but don’t give $20 either, only your 90-year-old grandmother can get away with that.

I will report back next week after the Final Wedding of 2017 to tell you if all of my tips worked out. As of right now, I only know two engaged couples, so here’s hoping I don’t have a single wedding in 2018! My wallet will thank me.

Continue Reading

Travel

Washington, D.C.

No Comments

Strap in, this post is a doozy. Last weekend I traveled to Virginia for my cousin’s wedding, and I had a jam-packed 3 days in the Greater Washington D.C. area. I promise to travel to further and more interesting places soon, but for now, this will have to do for the blog.

I arrived on Thursday night, and luckily, my brother, a new DC resident, picked me up from the train station. Unluckily, he was pulled over by the cops on the way, who said that it was illegal to drive through a yellow light. What?! Isn’t that what yellows are for? Anyway, a bit delayed, we changed and went to dinner with his Home Plate Family. What is Home Plate? It’s basically the coolest invention ever, founded and run by the WashU Chancellor’s wife, Risa Zwerling Wrighton. If out of town students at WashU miss home-cooked meals and dinnertime, they can sign up for this program and get matched with a family. My brother’s “family” was even featured on the WashU website 5 years ago! Since my brother was a WashU student for 7 years (8 if you include the gap year), he basically grew up with his “family.” Therefore, we all grew up with them! I have been hearing about my brother’s second mom for almost a decade. He has been attending all of the kids’ recitals, ceremonies, and graduations for years and his “mom” is my favorite part of our family group texts! Anyway, we had a delicious dinner at Lavagna, where I heard about their time at the Newseum, which I absolutely must go to the next time I’m in DC.

After dinner, I met up with a friend from middle/high school, who I hadn’t seen in 3 years. We had a drink and talked for a while, until we realized it was getting late and now we are real adults with jobs and it was a work night. LAME.

The next morning, my brother and his gf and I woke up and went to my brother’s favorite bagel place, Bullfrog Bagels. It was ok, but nothing compared to NYC bagels (don’t tell him I said that). I’m spoiled. After barely digesting, we drove out to Arlington to work out at Orangetheory Fitness with my best friend from college. She is the head trainer for the region, and she definitely gave us a workout! My brother and I wore heartrate monitors so we could compete with each other on the screens. More about the actual workout later, I’ll do a full review. Suffice it to say, we left completely drenched in sweat, and she played one of my fav weekend ramp-up songs, Hello Friday by Jason Derulo and Flo Rida. I promptly added it to all of my playlists (FOLLOW ME ON SPOTIFY!). We took about 100 pictures , some below, some saved for my OTF blog review, then we went home to shower. The afternoon was STEAMY hot. We ate Ethiopian food, then had a few sake bombs to stave off heat exhaustion, as one does. The boomerangs were pretty epic.

We finished packing and headed to the suburb of Reston, VA, where the rest of the wedding weekend popped off. Something to know about my family: we don’t see each other often, but when we do, we have a BLAST! We started Beth and Kenny’s wedding weekend with hors d’ouvres and drinks at American Tap Room, which conveniently was a 3 minute walk from the hotel #DrinksOnDrinksOnDrinks. My uncle put together a slideshow and I had three cameos in it (#winning). I only cried three times. Ok, maybe four. I’m such a sucker for a slideshow! I got to mingle with all of my family, meet some of Kenny’s family for the first time (shoutout to my dance partner Shawna!) and better yet, I got to introduce my mom to the Moscow Mule. Her life is forever changed. We went to Thai food after, because duh, never enough food, and then we went back to the hotel.

 

Meanwhile, my favorite emoji-bf STILL had not arrived! When I got back to the hotel, I found out his flight had been delayed 4 times, then canceled, after he had already been on the plane for an hour! Ultimately, he made it to the hotel by 7 am the next day, without his bag. He took a 3 am Amtrak and managed to piece together a wedding outfit from a tux shirt, a blazer he keeps in his office, and some too-tight slacks (photos below). Don’t worry, we are currently in negotiations for some compensation from Delta. Putting my ESQ. to good use.

Since the bf had barely arrived by the time we were supposed to leave for our Segway tour, I subbed in my brother’s girlfriend for the tour, instead. We had some epic Metro issues; I guess NYC isn’t alone in their #publictransitproblems. But the good news is, we made a new friend on the Metro who we shared an Uber with. Renee, are you out there somewhere? I should have gotten your contact info! Anyway, we embarked on my longest Segway Tour to date, by Bike and Roll DC. We got a Groupon (major tip here for Segway tours), and it was so much fun! Our tour guide Jen was so awesome, I made sure to write a review on Groupon and Trip Advisor. Also, it came with free popsicles and water. We rolled around DC for 2.5 hours with a family from Copenhagen, learning awesome little-known facts and taking a million photos. Did you know, legend has it that the 50 US flags around the Washington Monument were originally supposed to be state flags but the states couldn’t agree on which would be closest to the White House so they are all US flags instead? Did you know that Truman barely got to live in the White House because when he tried to move in, his piano broke through the rotting floor boards? He had to move out while they gutted the whole thing. Some say they approved the plans to add the Truman Balcony (now one of the most-noticeable things on the facade) to commemorate him and make up for the fact that he could barely live there.

After the awesome Segway tour, we headed back to the hotel for a quick dip in the pool, then got ready for the wedding! We took the shuttle bus to the Stone Tower Winery, which was even prettier than the photos. Really, the pictures do not do it justice. And the sunset… woah. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. I was scared it would be blazing hot (outside wedding in July? NO THANKS), but it wasn’t as bad as I had feared. There was a nice breeze, they had a table with lemon-infused water and champagne to the side of the ceremony, and instead of classic programs, they had the information printed on little fans. Very cute touch.

My cousin looked absolutely amazing, not that I’m biased or anything 😉 She was walked down the aisle by her mom and dad, which I always find sweet. They asked for no phones out during the ceremony, so no photos of that. Also, they wrote their own vows, which is so much more personal. I was listening intently since I was a rule-follower and had put away my phone. I only cried two more times. Okay, three. The officiant was actually their backup officiant, after a particularly gruesome kickball accident, and he totally killed it. Short, sweet, funny, and he could pronounce both of their names! (Trust, me that is not always the case). Both bride and groom added One Direction lyrics to their vows, which was hilarious and amazing and unplanned. They each broke individual glasses, which was a new tradition I had not seen before, but I liked the concept of not just having the guy do it.

The reception was so much fun. The dance floor was poppin’ (extra shoutout to my 88-year-old grandmother who never left the dance floor), there were glow sticks, there was an open bar, and an outdoor patio if you needed a break from the music. The hora was fun, minus a minor chandelier-tiara-head incident, and the toasts were hilarious. I got to sit with my cousins and next to my aunt and uncle. The craziest thing that happened all night: someone from the same floor of my college dorm, freshman year, 12 years ago, recognized me! She is married to a friend of the groom. Craziest small world ever. Things like that do not happen when you go to a school with over 50,000 students. It was so great to see you, Anna!

The real star of the reception was the fire pit and the DIY s’mores. With Reese’s cups! WHAT!? It was amazing. My emoji-bf informed me that since he was an Eagle Scout, I need not show him how to roast a marshmallow. Excusez-moi. We had a sparkler sendoff for the bride and groom, which was a super fun ending to a great night.

Lessons Learned:

  • I have too many friends in DC and I need to visit more often (next time Brittany/Davon/Tahon/Kristina!)
  • Orangetheory will leave me sore for days (ok, already knew that).
  • Segways are amazing (I knew that too).
  • I really like my brother’s gf (don’t screw this up, bro!)
  • I need to get together with my extended family more often.
  • Weddings in July are not always as hot as you’d fear, with enough champagne.
  • The Gator Nation is Everywhere!
  • I need to write shorter blog posts.

Family Photo! One of these things is not like the other hahahha

Continue Reading