Warm weather is finally here, after two weird weeks at the beginning of April. It makes me ancy (antsy? ansy?) or however you spell it.
I tried on wedding dresses this past weekend. Fear not, I am not getting married anytime soon (the thought of planning and paying for a wedding actually makes me break out into a cold sweat and rash). The reason I tried on dresses is that I am going to be modeling for an event at the Four Seasons Hotel - I think it's an event for wedding planners and brides or something like that - and wearing a dress from Hitched and jewelry from the Tiny Jewel Box. They are also going to fit me with a Marie-Antoinette style wig. It should be very glamorous and fun...as long as I don't trip over myself at the event (this dress I am wearing is huge...why anyone would actually wear that on their wedding day is beyond me, considering how limited your walking/dancing capabilities would be under these 500 pounds of satin and tulle.).
I hope I don't jinx myself. Is it bad luck to wear a wedding dress if it's not your wedding day?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
Candy Ass
So I have a funny (albeit bittersweet) story. Last night MF (Man Friend) and I went to a Thai restaurant. Somehow between the Chicken Satay and Pad Thai I started talking about my cousin Emma's wedding. She got married in 2003 in France, more specifically at Aubeville, this little tiny town of about 10 people in the countryside near Bordeaux where my family lives. Anyways, the conversation went something like this:
Me: "It was honestly the most beautiful but the most simple wedding I've ever been to...she arrived in a horse-drawn carriage with flowers in this beautiful brown and gold dress for the civil ceremony, and then changed into her wedding dress for the religious ceremony, they got married in this 15th-century tiny Roman chapel, and she made the bouquets for the chapel herself, and had her family members sing the music, and then you walk out of the chapel and it's just fields of sunflowers..."
And then I start tearing up and then just start outright crying at the restaurant and cover my face with my napkin, and stop talking entirely because I'm choking up, at which point MF says (jokingly, and lovingly, of course):
"You candy-ass!"
And then I try to explain that I wasn't crying because of the sunflowers or how pretty the wedding was, but because I have an image in my head - all I can think of is my grandfather kissing the bride outside after the ceremony and he is crying, and people are throwing rose petals. My grandfather would pass away two years later, on Oct. 13th, 2005. I still miss him so much. And so I try to explain this to MF who is looking at me like I am one of those sappy candy-ass emotional girls crying at a Thai restaurant over sunflowers!
Also, my family's place in Charente is a very special place for me, and it reminds me of my grandfather and my childhood - I spent every summer there when I was little. My mom cries every time we leave, without fail. My grandfather always said that the sunlight in Charente was the most beautiful and would tell us stories about his youth there.
Me: "It was honestly the most beautiful but the most simple wedding I've ever been to...she arrived in a horse-drawn carriage with flowers in this beautiful brown and gold dress for the civil ceremony, and then changed into her wedding dress for the religious ceremony, they got married in this 15th-century tiny Roman chapel, and she made the bouquets for the chapel herself, and had her family members sing the music, and then you walk out of the chapel and it's just fields of sunflowers..."
And then I start tearing up and then just start outright crying at the restaurant and cover my face with my napkin, and stop talking entirely because I'm choking up, at which point MF says (jokingly, and lovingly, of course):
"You candy-ass!"
And then I try to explain that I wasn't crying because of the sunflowers or how pretty the wedding was, but because I have an image in my head - all I can think of is my grandfather kissing the bride outside after the ceremony and he is crying, and people are throwing rose petals. My grandfather would pass away two years later, on Oct. 13th, 2005. I still miss him so much. And so I try to explain this to MF who is looking at me like I am one of those sappy candy-ass emotional girls crying at a Thai restaurant over sunflowers!
Also, my family's place in Charente is a very special place for me, and it reminds me of my grandfather and my childhood - I spent every summer there when I was little. My mom cries every time we leave, without fail. My grandfather always said that the sunlight in Charente was the most beautiful and would tell us stories about his youth there.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Some really good news and some not as good news
Really good news: I am moving on up in my career! I know that I said before on this blog that I wouldn't talk shop, but it is pretty exciting to have a promotion. I've never had a promotion (granted I have only been on the job market for all of three years)!
All I will say is: I get to go to Paris for work twice a year for a couple of weeks at a time. Woot! Tonight we are celebrating with our good-looking lawyer friends (as opposed to our good-looking engineering or consultant friends - I know it sounds kind of trite or superficial and silly but it really is true that all of our friends are indeed successful and good-looking when I stop to think about it) by having fondue (cheese AND chocolate) and champagne.
Not as good news: I went to dentist for the first time in nearly two years this past week. I have THREE cavities. This is not good. I've never had a cavity in my life. It makes me feel like a horrible candy-eating, slacker-brushing person. So now I have to do some serious damage control and have to swish this fluoride thing after breakfast. I hate going to the dentist and being admonished and made to feel very guilty ... this is why no one likes you if you are a dentist and that within the medical profession dentists have the highest suicide rate.
On a random note I also learned where the middle finger gesture came from. Apparently in WWI the Germans would cut off the middle finger of their prisoners (the middle finger was used to fire guns) and so the prisoners would show them the middle finger to essentially say: ... well you know.
All I will say is: I get to go to Paris for work twice a year for a couple of weeks at a time. Woot! Tonight we are celebrating with our good-looking lawyer friends (as opposed to our good-looking engineering or consultant friends - I know it sounds kind of trite or superficial and silly but it really is true that all of our friends are indeed successful and good-looking when I stop to think about it) by having fondue (cheese AND chocolate) and champagne.
Not as good news: I went to dentist for the first time in nearly two years this past week. I have THREE cavities. This is not good. I've never had a cavity in my life. It makes me feel like a horrible candy-eating, slacker-brushing person. So now I have to do some serious damage control and have to swish this fluoride thing after breakfast. I hate going to the dentist and being admonished and made to feel very guilty ... this is why no one likes you if you are a dentist and that within the medical profession dentists have the highest suicide rate.
On a random note I also learned where the middle finger gesture came from. Apparently in WWI the Germans would cut off the middle finger of their prisoners (the middle finger was used to fire guns) and so the prisoners would show them the middle finger to essentially say: ... well you know.
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