October 27, 2011

Alan's Psychedelic Breakfast

Pink Floyd, Atom Heart Mother 1970

This is a post title that I thought surely I would never use.  Find out why it seemed appropriate, later in the post. (Gentle Reader, cue the ominous foreshadowing.)

A few weeks ago, I thought it would be fun to host a Bridesmaids watch party.

So, that is exactly what I did.  I carefully made cream cheese mints from flower molds, scrounged up my Serva-Snack trays and grabbed a can of mixed nuts and a copy of Bridesmaids at Target.  Then, I waited for 11 other lucky ladies (or were they lucky??  Stay tuned..... Earworm yourself some Twilight Zone music while you are at it.)

I was so excited that everyone had as much fun as I did digging out their cheesy wedding stuff, bringing pictures and wedding albums, sharing stories.  Seriously, WHAT IS IT about wedding fashion?  It never, ever, ever stays in style.  For example, my sister Maureen just had a gorgeous wedding in September - truly, it was very tasteful and classy.  Pulling out  my very best Olathe Used Car Salesman here, I can GUARAAAAA-NTEE that she will have something to poke fun at in 5 years time (my father decked out in a Frasier clan tartan kilt with a bone-handled knife stuck in his knee high socks notwithstanding. Of course.)

Anyway! Not only did a few ladies bring their wedding dresses, but a few brought bridesmaids dresses and other sundry marital accoutrements.

My friend Christy came wearing her nuptial hat.  She's hardcore like that.  We love her anyway.

Average Jane's vintage wedding dress is the one on the right - it was originally her mother's dress from 1965.  All of us Font Freaks swooned over the original Jones Store logo on the garment bag.  

Now, let us examine ye olde table of Cherished Wedding Clutter:

How precious, right?  RIGHT.

Hey.  Wait a goddamned second.  What is a DOLL doing in there??

Gentle Reader, meet Elizabeth.  She is my Single Girl Freakout Doll.  In my late 20s, I had my heart smashed to bits then summarily handed back to me along with my CDs and VHS tapes. In the ensuing insanity,  I managed to convince myself that I would never get married......  that no one would ever LOVE me in the manner to which I was accustomed...... and that menopause was lurking at my front door much like Jack Nicholson from The Shining.

Heeeeeere's Elizabeth!
Come out, come out, where ever you are.

Yes, in a fit of desperation, I ordered this DOLL from one of those Fancy Pants DOLL Places with the perfectly reasonable explanation (in my Real Life-Like HEAD) that since I would never get to buy myself a wedding dress, I could buy my goddamned DOLL a wedding dress.

It made perfect sense at the time.

Obviously, you know how this story ends.  I found the guy, we got hitched and I now live a life of grand, sumptuous luxury in the Soul-Sucking Suburban Prairie of Olathe. KANSAS.  You would think after all that Freaking Out that I would have taken my Honest-to-Goodness, Real Life-Like Wedding more seriously.  Yet, that did not happen.  We got engaged in May 2002, picked a venue in the fall of 2002 and signed up a priest in New Hampshire.  And then??  I did NOTHING.  Finally, in April, a few of the guests, including but not limited to Average Jane and the aforementioned Hardcore Hat Christy,  began hinting around as to whether they were going to get food or not.  At this wedding of mine for which they had paid Real Life-Like money for airline tickets. For a wedding that was to happen in 2 months. Oh, right.  THAT. So, I picked up the phone and ordered food, a cake, flowers and somewhere in there, made a hair appointment.  I tried on a few dresses and picked one that I liked, but did not love (seriously, my kingdom for a goddamned dress with SLEEVES.)

However, I did hunt high and low for the wedding handbag and the cake topper.  I researched endless online sites for a much-desired Lladro cake topper and trolled through store after store after store.

For a cake topper.  Because I had priorities.  Obviously.

Apparently, I also harbored secret desires for a Silver Fox.    And that ain't Lladro, either.

Anyway!  Friday's party was so much fun.  Then, we had Saturday -- which was low-key.  We had some birthday stuff for Arun that day, dinner consisted of some chicken burritos that Manoj picked up at the nearby panader√≠a and then we went to bed. (The ominous foreshadowing just got more ominous. Crank up the music!  J.S Bach be in the house, yo.)

At 2am, I found myself making sweet love to my toilet .....caressing its smooth, porcelain curves.....whispering sweet nothings in its ear.... swearing that American Standard would never tear us asunder.

Food poisoning, right?  Nope.  Turns out, others from my Bridesmaid party also picked up a Bridesmaid Bug.  Oh, the sweet irony.  If you haven't seen the Bridesmaids party here......is......your ......

$#@%* ZOMFG

Yes, FOUR of us from my Bridesmaid party had a fun reenactment of the Groundbreaking, Historic Brazilian Food Poisoning scene from the movie.

A scene that I actually mocked in the invitation to my party.

1 comment:

Olivia said...

First, that Bridesmaids viewing sounds like so much fun! Second, I'm trying not to laugh, but that food poisoning is kinda funny. Do you know what gave you all the Bridesmaids' shitz?