I am a politics nerd. Always have been, always will be. I read that section first in the New York Times. I follow more political blogs than DC ones. I'm that annoying friend who posts shit on facebook (and then declines to respond when shit gets ugly). When asked if I'd rather attend a music festival or political convention, I chose political convention.
And yes, I included a Republican one in that.
So you'd THINK that I'd love what's going on right now. The Republican primary! Debates! The Daily Show! So many opps to not only be a snarky bitch, but be one aBOUT my favorite topics! However, the truth of the matter is?
I want this shit to end.
This election has already become a complete farce, evidenced by the fact that Newt Gingrich is now the most viable candidate in a string of "anyone-but-Romney"s. I swear, if Americans actually elected a President Gingrich, I actually would leave. And I love the United States. But while re-electing President Bush (numero dos) was a blow to my sense that I'm connected to this country by more than blood, Gingrich being elected would honestly lead me to feel as though I should renounce my citizenship.
(Sidenote: see! I LOVE hyperbole! You'd think I'd be allll about this!!)
So while I do not think in any way that that will happen, at all - Romney will be the candidate by March I'm positive, if not sooner, and we will be battening down the hatches for the ugliest summer of not real issues (zomg, I toooooooootally didn't mean that to become national law when I passed healthcare reform. Zomg, yes you did. No I didn't. Did too. DID NOT. DID TOO INFINITY TIMES A GABILLION. Oh I see what you did there, playing the race card. Wha huh? SECRET MUSLIM SOCIALIST FASCIST TERRORIST) by June - I just don't feel up to what's coming next.
Uh, that "paragraph"? Was all one sentence. Out of control.
The truth of the matter is we live in a country that could be great, but that currently is dangerously close to becoming an oligarchy. We have REAL people with REAL problems, but we're going to watch everyone bitch slap the others and then spew venom in the general direction of President Obama. Don't get me wrong, I'm prObama, but he's not left out of my general disdain. This has already turned into the Kardashian version of a real election, and we're not even on the approach to November.
And I'm not a fan of fucking "reality" TV.
So I'd like to be counted out. Let's make a New York Times homepage for those of us who don't fucking want to be updated on who-said-more-outrageous-shit-today difference between a flip flopping mess of a hair helmut and a guy who, if we wanted to actually deal with hunger in this country, should have to donate money from his Tiffany's account every time he says "food stamp president."
Don't even get me STARTED on Santorum.
Who's with me?
Friday, January 27, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Chris Christie Sucks
This is just disgusting. For those of you who can't watch the video, the GOVERNOR of NEW JERSEY (a state with 51.3% women) said in response to protestors chanting "Christie kills jobs":
Something's going down tonight, but it ain't going to be jobs, sweetheart.
Monday, January 23, 2012
HAPPY new year!
So.
Anyone who has ever met me for anything (including first dates and job interviews - whoops.) knows that I have an on-time problem. Despite pretending I don't care, this is the one thing (ok. The most important of a few things) I would like to change about myself. And yet, as 2011 clicked to 2012 and I had an actual, attainable list of things to accomplish, upon which "being on time more often" would clearly be if it was written down, (as would reducing the amount of commas I use) I kept putting it off.
Shocking.
However, the convergence of several things has made me realize that, much like showing up 20 minutes late to that first date where apparently I JUST missed the ex-gf of the guy I was meeting, being late can be fortuitous. For example, there are only 8 days of January left for me to start my goals. That's an awfully short time (even for me) to give up on them! January 2012 - check!
Also, it's the first day of the Chinese Year of the Dragon today, which is fun! I don't know much about the Chinese Zodiac, but I do know that dragons are cool. I mean, dragons! Like in Harry Potter! So that's a good sign.
Also, now that my race is over (WE WON if by winning you mean had an awesome time, still all want to be friends with each other, and plan to continue to do Ragnars), I don't need to fuel up on carbs constantly, which helps the weight thing. And now that I have a nice normal work schedule because I wasn't laid off (at the lastest of the last minutes. You guys should be really happy I haven't been blogging yet in 2012, it was UGLY) I don't need diet coke to wake me up or keep me awake or mix with any alcohol at all to forget that the company I hate(d) is getting rid of ME.
Sigh. Seriously. So ugly.
And it finally snowed, and that makes me feel like things are new. And I'm liking what I do during the day AND think I'm actually quite good at it which makes me more inclined to accept compliments. And I just got back from New Jersey (again) so it feels like it was just the holiday.
Do I sound like I'm justifying to anyone else?
The point is, even though I'm late this year - as per usual - happy effing new year guys. May it come in like a dragon and go out like a lamb. Or something like that. I'll be back tomorrow with some snark I'm sure, but belatedly, merry merry 2012.
Anyone who has ever met me for anything (including first dates and job interviews - whoops.) knows that I have an on-time problem. Despite pretending I don't care, this is the one thing (ok. The most important of a few things) I would like to change about myself. And yet, as 2011 clicked to 2012 and I had an actual, attainable list of things to accomplish, upon which "being on time more often" would clearly be if it was written down, (as would reducing the amount of commas I use) I kept putting it off.
Shocking.
However, the convergence of several things has made me realize that, much like showing up 20 minutes late to that first date where apparently I JUST missed the ex-gf of the guy I was meeting, being late can be fortuitous. For example, there are only 8 days of January left for me to start my goals. That's an awfully short time (even for me) to give up on them! January 2012 - check!
Also, it's the first day of the Chinese Year of the Dragon today, which is fun! I don't know much about the Chinese Zodiac, but I do know that dragons are cool. I mean, dragons! Like in Harry Potter! So that's a good sign.
Also, now that my race is over (WE WON if by winning you mean had an awesome time, still all want to be friends with each other, and plan to continue to do Ragnars), I don't need to fuel up on carbs constantly, which helps the weight thing. And now that I have a nice normal work schedule because I wasn't laid off (at the lastest of the last minutes. You guys should be really happy I haven't been blogging yet in 2012, it was UGLY) I don't need diet coke to wake me up or keep me awake or mix with any alcohol at all to forget that the company I hate(d) is getting rid of ME.
Sigh. Seriously. So ugly.
And it finally snowed, and that makes me feel like things are new. And I'm liking what I do during the day AND think I'm actually quite good at it which makes me more inclined to accept compliments. And I just got back from New Jersey (again) so it feels like it was just the holiday.
Do I sound like I'm justifying to anyone else?
The point is, even though I'm late this year - as per usual - happy effing new year guys. May it come in like a dragon and go out like a lamb. Or something like that. I'll be back tomorrow with some snark I'm sure, but belatedly, merry merry 2012.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Saturday, December 31, 2011
My Best Friends' Wedding
2011 truly was the MA Year of the Wedding, and if anyone needed additional proof in the strictures of my life, my ornament this year (which is pretty much the definitive "last word" pour moi. Ornaments are a Big Effing Deal in my family/life) was a bridesmaid dress.
No joke.
So to bring my year to an end it only seems appropriate to finish with a wedding recap. And this one? This one is amazing.
What: Interfaith/secular/spiritual ceremony and reception at the Newseum
Where: Washington, DC
When: October 2011
Why: this is a ridiculous question regarding weddings (I know I set this shit up whatever I'm allowed to be annoyed at March-me who thought it would be cool to have all the Qs). But ok, fine. Why? Because these two have been my friends forever. Because I played an inadvertent (and advertent, which isn't a word, but should be) in their getting together. Because I remember them before they were a Them and think they're better the way they are now. Because I ended up being the best woman (or best groomsmaid, or awesomest groomsgirl, depending on who you were asking). Because they're my motherfucking FAMILY goddamnit, even if not by blood (cause you know, if it were, they shouldn't really have gotten married).
How: the 42. Yes, WMATA. Because it was easy and because I was in a particularly poor place in life and also, it gets me pretty fucking close to home. Although I still regret my decision to take it AFTER the reception, when I passed out on the bus and found myself being poked by a lovely, concerned WMATA driver on Mt. Pleasant Ave.
Drink(s) of choice: huh. How bad is it that I don't remember, specifically. It was champagne of course (because it always is with me) but I'm totally alarmed that I don't remember getting it a lot. Someone must have brought it to me. OH YES! THAT'S RIGHT!! There was an amazing, enabling waitress who was dedicated to our table and since the groom and bride were off saying hi to everyone the waitress and I became besties and she brought me lots and lots of bubbly. Whew! Also, I had a beer at the end of the night. I'm not sure why. But I'm blaming IT for the falling-asleep-on-the-bus-ness.
Highlight: Huh. Hard to elucidate.
Let me start by saying that, for all my crying at movies and commercials and shit like that, I don't really cry at weddings. I know, it's shocking. But even more shocking is how MUCH I cried at this one.
Are ya with me? Wondering how this is a highlight? Well right.
Anyway, right before we all walked out, I was hugging all of the bridal party (and this was BEFORE I started drinking the champagne) and wishing everyone luck, and I had just kissed Dan on the cheek when I approached Anna. And suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a memory of the two of us sitting in her darkened dorm room and her being like "so. I think I like Dan" and me responding "good I think he likes you too, let's make that happen."
And I started to weep.
I didn't REALLY stop, although I guess I paused at points, but as the entire ceremony was one big celebration of two of my closest friends in the WORLD, it felt very personal/intimate to me. At some point, the celebrant was talking about when Anna realized she liked Dan more than just RA-buddies, and she mentioned him being such an amazing support person to a mutual friend (ME!!) and Anna looked over at me, smiled, and I was wrecked. Truly wrecked.
It was amazing.
Some incredibly close people to me got married this year (I don't think I need to name them, although if you want to remember just look back, damnit) and for each of them it was an incredibly special experience. Watching your baby brother, or the very first person who became your urban family marry the person they love love LOVE will always be so special, there are no words for it.
But?
Watching TWO people who you have known forever, who have seen you at your ab-best, and more importantly, at your ugliest (I mean really ugliest. Not just the big D, but the worst, dark twisty parts of my life, and the ones I'm not just not proud of, but will never, ever forgive myself for, etc) and still love you for who you are, who will sit there and counsel you day after day after day of saying the exact same shit about boys and jobs and boys and jobs, and your by-blood-family, and your other friends, and your roles and responsibilities and your fucking ridic drama, and call you out on it sure but also just fucking BE there, because they are your PEOPLE, get married to EACH OTHER?
Well. I don't think I'll ever see it happen again, because this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, that starting from that moment when I started to cry, the entire. Fucking. Thing? was the highlight.
Lowlight: I had a short-lived but very real panic attack when I was left with the rings. Do you know how expensive those things are? I don't, but I knew I had more money on my thumb (I'm a girl, I don't have a pocket to hold them in) than I do in my ENTIRE APARTMENT (ish). I completely panicked, the bride's mother forced me to eat something and then the bride's grandmother patted my hand until I felt better. Then I watched American Pie with the groomsmen while airing out my dress' sweat stains from when I flipped. It was actually very effective, although certainly not my proudest moment.
Music grade: A+++++ holy crap this DJ was awesome. First of all, he tolerated me. As I was probably drunker than I had been at... any of the other 2011 weddings? that in and of itself deserves a A+. But he also played Boyz II Men, and the song I decided was "our" - as in Dan/Anna/my - theme song of 2011 (Give Me Tonight in case you were wondering) and was incredibly responsive and the dance floor was packed all night. And THEN!
And then.
Remember when at my brother/Alexis' wedding the DJ played Scenes from an Italian Restaurant and my sibs, then Alexis, got up and danced/sang/performed for everyone? You don't? Well I do, and it was amazing. So amazing I didn't think anything could ever top it.
Which this didn't, but it came fucking close.
This DJ put on Meatloaf's Paradise by the Dashboard Light, which is a TERRIBLE yet AMAZING song. Seriously, I'm obsessed against my mother's will. I don't know what makes it sooooooo good, except it tells a story (like Scenes from an Italian Restaurant), it's long (also like SfaIR), there are distinctly different parts of the song (see: SfaIR), and... yeah. No I mean I'm not capturing it well, but I love it. And APPARENTLY Anna's dad's family rocks that shit like my family rocks the Billy Joel.
Read: hard.
They were dancing and singing and back and forthing like nobody's business. It was amazing to watch. It was amazing to try to be a part of. And the DJ let the song run long, and thus he was good.
Lessons learned:
No joke.
So to bring my year to an end it only seems appropriate to finish with a wedding recap. And this one? This one is amazing.
11 in "11" - FINAL Wedding Recap!
Who: my best friends (YES! friendS!!) Dan and Anna, who met when we were all RAs in college. As it happens, that's also when WE (as in, me and the groom, AND me and the bride) met. Dan and I were head RAs together, and Anna was sort of also a head, but on the housing side (it's true, A). Anyway, we were a threesome subset of a particularly active group of 6-8 RAs (of the 49 total) before they were a twosome, and I may or may not (ie I totes DID!) have had a role in them getting together.What: Interfaith/secular/spiritual ceremony and reception at the Newseum
Where: Washington, DC
When: October 2011
Why: this is a ridiculous question regarding weddings (I know I set this shit up whatever I'm allowed to be annoyed at March-me who thought it would be cool to have all the Qs). But ok, fine. Why? Because these two have been my friends forever. Because I played an inadvertent (and advertent, which isn't a word, but should be) in their getting together. Because I remember them before they were a Them and think they're better the way they are now. Because I ended up being the best woman (or best groomsmaid, or awesomest groomsgirl, depending on who you were asking). Because they're my motherfucking FAMILY goddamnit, even if not by blood (cause you know, if it were, they shouldn't really have gotten married).
How: the 42. Yes, WMATA. Because it was easy and because I was in a particularly poor place in life and also, it gets me pretty fucking close to home. Although I still regret my decision to take it AFTER the reception, when I passed out on the bus and found myself being poked by a lovely, concerned WMATA driver on Mt. Pleasant Ave.
Drink(s) of choice: huh. How bad is it that I don't remember, specifically. It was champagne of course (because it always is with me) but I'm totally alarmed that I don't remember getting it a lot. Someone must have brought it to me. OH YES! THAT'S RIGHT!! There was an amazing, enabling waitress who was dedicated to our table and since the groom and bride were off saying hi to everyone the waitress and I became besties and she brought me lots and lots of bubbly. Whew! Also, I had a beer at the end of the night. I'm not sure why. But I'm blaming IT for the falling-asleep-on-the-bus-ness.
Highlight: Huh. Hard to elucidate.
Let me start by saying that, for all my crying at movies and commercials and shit like that, I don't really cry at weddings. I know, it's shocking. But even more shocking is how MUCH I cried at this one.
Are ya with me? Wondering how this is a highlight? Well right.
Anyway, right before we all walked out, I was hugging all of the bridal party (and this was BEFORE I started drinking the champagne) and wishing everyone luck, and I had just kissed Dan on the cheek when I approached Anna. And suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a memory of the two of us sitting in her darkened dorm room and her being like "so. I think I like Dan" and me responding "good I think he likes you too, let's make that happen."
And I started to weep.
I didn't REALLY stop, although I guess I paused at points, but as the entire ceremony was one big celebration of two of my closest friends in the WORLD, it felt very personal/intimate to me. At some point, the celebrant was talking about when Anna realized she liked Dan more than just RA-buddies, and she mentioned him being such an amazing support person to a mutual friend (ME!!) and Anna looked over at me, smiled, and I was wrecked. Truly wrecked.
It was amazing.
Some incredibly close people to me got married this year (I don't think I need to name them, although if you want to remember just look back, damnit) and for each of them it was an incredibly special experience. Watching your baby brother, or the very first person who became your urban family marry the person they love love LOVE will always be so special, there are no words for it.
But?
Watching TWO people who you have known forever, who have seen you at your ab-best, and more importantly, at your ugliest (I mean really ugliest. Not just the big D, but the worst, dark twisty parts of my life, and the ones I'm not just not proud of, but will never, ever forgive myself for, etc) and still love you for who you are, who will sit there and counsel you day after day after day of saying the exact same shit about boys and jobs and boys and jobs, and your by-blood-family, and your other friends, and your roles and responsibilities and your fucking ridic drama, and call you out on it sure but also just fucking BE there, because they are your PEOPLE, get married to EACH OTHER?
Well. I don't think I'll ever see it happen again, because this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, that starting from that moment when I started to cry, the entire. Fucking. Thing? was the highlight.
Lowlight: I had a short-lived but very real panic attack when I was left with the rings. Do you know how expensive those things are? I don't, but I knew I had more money on my thumb (I'm a girl, I don't have a pocket to hold them in) than I do in my ENTIRE APARTMENT (ish). I completely panicked, the bride's mother forced me to eat something and then the bride's grandmother patted my hand until I felt better. Then I watched American Pie with the groomsmen while airing out my dress' sweat stains from when I flipped. It was actually very effective, although certainly not my proudest moment.
Music grade: A+++++ holy crap this DJ was awesome. First of all, he tolerated me. As I was probably drunker than I had been at... any of the other 2011 weddings? that in and of itself deserves a A+. But he also played Boyz II Men, and the song I decided was "our" - as in Dan/Anna/my - theme song of 2011 (Give Me Tonight in case you were wondering) and was incredibly responsive and the dance floor was packed all night. And THEN!
And then.
Remember when at my brother/Alexis' wedding the DJ played Scenes from an Italian Restaurant and my sibs, then Alexis, got up and danced/sang/performed for everyone? You don't? Well I do, and it was amazing. So amazing I didn't think anything could ever top it.
Which this didn't, but it came fucking close.
This DJ put on Meatloaf's Paradise by the Dashboard Light, which is a TERRIBLE yet AMAZING song. Seriously, I'm obsessed against my mother's will. I don't know what makes it sooooooo good, except it tells a story (like Scenes from an Italian Restaurant), it's long (also like SfaIR), there are distinctly different parts of the song (see: SfaIR), and... yeah. No I mean I'm not capturing it well, but I love it. And APPARENTLY Anna's dad's family rocks that shit like my family rocks the Billy Joel.
Read: hard.
They were dancing and singing and back and forthing like nobody's business. It was amazing to watch. It was amazing to try to be a part of. And the DJ let the song run long, and thus he was good.
Lessons learned:
- Drunkenly suggesting that you should make out with the bride's brother will make its way through the gossip chain to the bride's mother in the sober light of day. You will be horrified. Your friends (all of them) will say - "again?! MA! You have a problem."
- Bossing around the bride, groom, bride's father, groom's mother, anyone remotely related to them and within arm's reach will not make you popular. However, if you're doing it for the right reasons (ie, dancing) they will forgive you. I think.
- The drivers of the 42 are lovely people.
- Gerber daisy petals... go everywhere. Especially when you hit people over and over with your bouquet. Ehem. Still finding them in my hallway.
- In all seriousness, write notes to your bridal party. As a groomsmaid/girl/best woman (as it were), I got a note from Dan of course, but Anna also wrote me one. And I cried. A lot. Did I mention that? But honestly, and embarrassingly, I kept those notes with me (like on my person) for the whole week. And they are still in my drawer where I keep things I need to access quickly. It's only been two months, sure, but I'm pretty sure I will cherish those things forever.
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