Tag: weddings

Ya’ll, I’ve been thinking it’s about time for a good ol’ random observation post (let’s add a random musing while we’re at it). It’s been a time since I’ve done this kind of post, and since I’m either trying not to lose my shit among the madness that is Christmas Shopping, or dealing with self-inflicted acid reflux due to excessive holiday eating, I seem to not have the time to write a proper post.
When I say ‘proper’, I mean a real, polished work of art (or a polished turd depending on who you ask) that I feel could truly be published.
Speaking of publishing-I think I might be getting serious about the writing a book thing. But, like, don’t tell anyone. I want to keep it on the DL.
This is another reason I’m not posting my “real” posts to my blog for the foreseeable future-they just might end up in a book!
HOLY SHITBALLS.
Now I really have to do it.
I can feel my acid reflux gearing up for another round, so let’s just move on.
The Musing
I’ve recently discovered I’m an utter shit show. I mean, I’ve always known, in some respects, that I’m a walking shit show, but now I’m one in all the ways.
I used to be that person who is annoyingly, embarrassingly early to any and every event that has a time associated with it. In fact, I’d stress about being late (on time) so much that my morning/get ready routine was much like that of a person who’s perpetually late (harried, sweaty, and cursy), but without the added benefit of sleeping in or extra couch time.
Somehow, there was a shift in the space-time continuum, and now I’m that person screeching into the parking lot with the bottom of my skirt hanging out of the car door.
This past weekend, a good friend of mine got married. The wedding was in Tahoe, which is a good hour away, but was in the late afternoon, so I had plenty of time.
I sat my fat ass on my couch the entire day, blogging, playing Words With Friends, and just generally enjoying my slothness.
About 45 minutes before our planned departure time, I lazily began my I-just-want-to-look-decent routine. Upon putting on the dress I planned to wear, I discovered I must have grown a few inches up, instead of the usual out.
That dress, unless I was going for the bottom butt look, was not going to work.
My second option, was a flowy number that was so wrinkled it would appear I had it bunched up between two couch cushions for years, instead of innocuously hanging in my closet.
If there’s one thing my mom taught me, it was “Dear God, just don’t show up in wrinkled clothing!”
Because I’m such a winner at adulting, I don’t own an ironing board. Whenever ironing is necessary, like once in a freaking lifetime, we just iron on the bed, against the wall, you know, whatever surface is available.
At this point, we had five minutes and the stress of having to iron, had me perspiring pretty heavily.
In my crazed-what-the-fuck-kind-of-ironing-is-that-job, I knocked over a half empty cookie container. As I frantically ironed more wrinkles into my shit show dress, I was stepping on (and spreading all over the floor) shortbread cookie crumbs.
Once I decided I’d done enough damage to my permanently wrinkled dress, I turned off the iron, folded the towel, and saw that while I was ironing more wrinkles, I was also removing the finish on the table.
I don’t even know if I’ll ever be an adult at this rate.
The Random Observation
The wedding previously mentioned in Tahoe was a picture perfect winter wonderland. It was just beautiful.

The wedding and reception was held at a resort and spa. The ceremony took place in an open area that looked out onto the lake and surrounding mountains. The guest rooms also looked out onto this patio.

The beautiful bride and a wedding crasher.
Do you see the woman in the top right corner of the picture?
She looks pretty easy to miss, right?
Wrong!
I almost missed the entire wedding ceremony, because I was trying to figure out a way to get a good shot of her without being rude or too obvious.
By the time the ceremony was over, so was my opportunity to snap a picture of her, because she went back into her room. The free wedding entertainment was over. Duh.

Here’s a zoomed-in version.
This woman made my entire life. It looks like she’s kind of far away in the picture, but she was practically on top of the entire wedding procession. And, she was every bit #goals with her Russian kubanka hat, glass of champagne, and zero fucks.
So, I iron towel patterns into kitchen tables, but maybe someday I’ll just live in a resort, drink champagne all day, and own a sublime Russian fur hat? If that’s the case, I’ll send my clothes out for ironing.
Forget adulting.

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