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.

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:

1. 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."
2. 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.
3. The drivers of the 42 are lovely people.
4. Gerber daisy petals... go everywhere. Especially when you hit people over and over with your bouquet. Ehem. Still finding them in my hallway.
5. 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.

And that was 2011 - happy new year! Am I relieved the year of the wedding (tm) is over? Yes. But I'm also sad it has to end. Luckily, there are just a few short months until #weddingseason2012 begins!

2011: bring on 2012!

I don't know about all y'all, but I'm SO fucking over 2011. It has been a truly crap year. To be fair, it's been an amazing year, too, when I think about it. But all the good things (my brother and best friends getting married, new relationships, new breakthroughs on the self-realization/actualization/appreciation front) will still be true in 2012, while all that shit that happened this past year (job crap, mostly, but also other just ridiculously fucking awful things, like deaths and exes and sadness) will so soon be left in my dust.

This is already more serious than I intended. Let's change that!

I guess my point is, with 2012 comes a new year, and new chances, and new new new. I know I sound a little like a hypocrite, because usually I think it's effing stupid that we celebrate this arbitrary change of dates. But for some reason, I'm all about it this year, and I'm pretty sure it's just because I need to take a step away from life that is imposed by a third party.

That third party is, um, "the world"? Except China? And maybe the Chosen People?

Anyway, last year I made resolutions on January 2, and I don't remember what they were but I'm sure I completed them. Or didn't. Who cares? I have new ones, and if I start on Sunday, the chances of obtaining them are very, very low. So I'm starting them in the shitastic year that is 2011 in the hopes that that means I'll actually meet them!

Meet? Obtain? Resolve? Whatever the verb is.

And here they are:

1. Get down to 1 can of Diet Coke a day. It's bad for me. I'm addicted. I'm giving myself a good 10 months to get to the point when I only need a can a day, and even then, "need" shouldn't be used. 
2. Stop saying "are you just saying that?" when someone pays me a compliment. This is so fucking insecure, and I'm OVER being insecure. When someone tells me they love my new haircut, or my Christmas present, or my wedding toast, or think I'm funny/smart/witty/impressive/mature I resolve to just say "thank you". Or pull an Ingrid-as-Ilsa and say "you're too kind". Or something in between. Not ask them if they're sure.
3. Similarly, only not, stop saying "I believe you". This is a new one, and I'm 100% positive it sounds like I actually DON'T believe the person - when I DO! Let's break the cycle before it becomes like "dude" in 2005.
4. Brush my teeth on nights I get home wasted. I wish I could say that in 2012 I wouldn't be drunk anymore, but that's just asking for failure. I like alcohol. I REALLY like being social. And social + alcohol = me being drunk. In any case, I've gotten really good about making sure to brush my teeth 2X a day in the past few months, which makes me feel like an adult. But I've noticed (slash it's been pointed out to me) that I definitely do not ever on nights that probably are more necessary than others, ie, when I've been drinking. So ima try to fix that.
5. Write more letters. I miss it.

Alright that's definitely enough for the year, doncha think? One more post until 2012 peoples! Appropriately, it is (finally) my last wedding recap for the year!!! GET EXCITED!!! You are? Are you just saying that?

Shit.

Best part of NYE 2011?

back tomorrow (friday) to start wrapping up 2011, but for now - zoh. em. gee.

Yes, Virginia...

From the September 21, 1897 edition of the New York Sun (not to be confused with the current NYS, whose editorial board is utter crap, versus the paper that previously competed with the New York Times)

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor—
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O'Hanlon115 West Ninety Fifth Street

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence.

We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! He lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!

20 Christmas (related) Movies to Warm Your Ebeneezer "Grinch" Potter Heart

I've been plowing through Christmas-themed (or set at Christmas, I guess) movies like WHOA this year. Whether it's been because of my holiday-induced sadness affect disorderly conduct, or because I have nothing to do (at all) at work, or just cause HELLO - when else do you get to watch Miracle on 34th Street ad nauseum? - I have watched an unprecedented amount of fabulous films.

However.

When you're burning through them at the rate of a yule log (awwww snap) it's hard to come up with new ideas, so I turned to the interwebs. Yet - for the first time, evaaar? - the google let me down. There were loads of lists of Christmas movies with like, Gremlins on them, and Die Hard, or Bad Santa. I'm not saying there aren't merits to those sorts of film (well... mostly I'm not saying that) but I was looking for movies that make one happy and joyful and able to write holiday cards that don't depress your friends as much as you did a week ago by writing a blog post.

Ehem. Hypothetically.

Anyway, so I decided to use my time for you, dear interwebs, to research holiday-related movies that give you a warm feeling. Ok, I mean I guess I told you I was watching them anyway, hm? Gave it away a bit? Well whatever let's pretend that I'm just incredibly generous! It's Christmastime! With that I present to you the 20 Christmas movies to warm your heart and counteract the dreary wintery nights of the shortest days of the year, even though it's 60 degrees outside but you're right, climate change isn't real. Or maybe just 20 WONDERFUL Christmas movies, as per MA:

• (20) The Santa Clause - don't judge me. The fact that it came out when I was still a kid probably helps, but c'mon now - c'est AWESOME. Tim Allen shaving and then the beard growing back immediately? Who doesn't love that sort of shit pre-massive CGI-azation? Really, the whole divorced-dad-gets-close-to-son thing melts the ice around my heart (or some shit like that) - Christmas time is for family! And for giggling at Tim Allen's belly shaking like a bowl full of jelly.
• (19) Yes, Virginia - this is a funny little movie I wouldn't have seen if it weren't for Netflix instaplay (that's for you Gracie, if you read this, because I know it will drive you NUTS). For regular readers it probably comes as no surprise that I love the Yes, Virginia editorial from the New York Sun because I post it every year on Christmas day (and will again on Sunday). This is an animated version of the story that has Neil Patrick Harris as the voice of the father, and Alfred Molina as the voice of the jaded-but-redeemed editor of the Sun. Redemption stories! Childlike belief in Christmas! It's legen... (wait for it)... well not really but ok it's just lovely.
• (18) Family Stone - this movie is DEPRESSING. But I like that shit? Crying at movies makes me happy? Whatever I'm not weird. The story is about coming together as a family at Christmas time, which is like the oldest theme in the book but I don't care, it's cliche cause it WORKS. Ignore the weird switcheroo of the girlfriends, and focus on Rachel McAdams, Diane Keaton, the deaf/gay brother played by Ty Giordano, and the oldest sister (YAY) played by that girl from Grey's who Karev loved and needed a new face. Family + tears FTW! 
• (17) Meet Me In St. Louis - this movie is all around awesome, but let's be honest. It's not really a Christmas movie per se - it's a full year (I think?) of life in a St. Louis family. However, Judy Garland singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" is one of the most moving pieces of musical cinema, ever, and when I hear that song I think of her, and of holidays tinged with sadness, and how next year all our troubles WILL be out of sight if through the years we all can be together.
• (16) The Holiday - it's sweet. Kate Winslet learns gumption! Jack Black writes music! Dustin Hoffmanikkah makes a funny cameo! And Jude Law is HAWT. Plus those two little precious girls with their little precious accents and their little precious tent?? So sweet. I love the end scene when all six of them are like one happy family in London, although I would prefer it if Arthur had flown out with them to be their urban granddaddy.
• (15) Sleepless in Seattle - this movie starts (for real) at Christmas, and while it ends later in the year, I will always think of it as a holiday movie. The Christmas after his wife dies (I think?), Tom Hanks pours his heart over the radio waves, and Meg Ryan hears and thinks that that's what she's missing with Bill Pullman (who is redeemed later on this list, no worries). Sure, it's top of the Empire State building on Valentine's Day, but it's also about re-making a family after sadness, and love, and singing about horses horses horses horses.
• (14) You've Got Mail - again, not a Christmas movie really, but the fact that I just see this as a continuation of Sleepless in Seattle (and clearly so do they - Somewhere Over the Rainbow as a theme song, anybody?), plus Meg Ryan quotes Joni Mitchell's River in this movie, are reasons enough to have it on the list. Bonus! The scene of Meg Ryan's urban family singing Christmas carols around the piano is something I wanna replicate so badly. Who has friends who sing carols? Call me!
• (13) Elf - look, I'm the first to admit that I was a jackass about this movie, because of judgment (shown above) about movies that try to be about Christmas but end up going for cheap thrills and laughs. There were years when I refused to watch it because I thought it was going to be fart jokes and shittiness. I was wrong. This movie is great! Zooey Deschanel is awesome, Will Ferrell does guileless child incredibly well (and not in a frat boy way at ALL), and you know. Family coming together. Plus, any movie that ends with spontaneous singing is pretty much amazing, and ZD is a ridiculously talented singer. Watch it. 
• (12) The Muppet Christmas Carol - if you've read nearly any bit of this blog, ever, you already know I love the Muppets. But this version is FABULOUS even without my bias. Gonzo and Rizzo are our narrators, and they hew incredibly closely (like, verbatim for the most part) to Dickens' tale. Michael Caine does a great job as Scrooge, scaring the crap out of me even (despite the fact that I know he's hello, the gay fabulous softie who makes over Sandra Bullock (see next movie!!) in Miss Congeniality). When he is all redeemed after meeting with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come ("I'm a large absent-minded spirit!"), everyone's thrilled. And Kermit is Kermit, and Piggy is Piggy. Plus, the Muppets sing! I LOVE SINGING.
• (11) While You Were Sleeping - This movie starts on Christmas (pretty much) and shows the importance of family, and also sort of the meaning of family, at this time of year. In that I mean your family is what you make of it, not just the people to whom you are blood related, and it's important to have those people you love around you. Look, I'm doing a bad job, the movie is AMAZING, Bill Pullman is my ideal man, and it takes place in CHICAGO. Go rent/stream it.
• (10) Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer - original claymation (right?) version! So good, although as I recently had a conversation with someone (Ramona? Right?) about the little elf who wants to be a dentist - it can come off a little creepy. But I love Rudolph, and I love a story about being true to oneself, and the island of misfit toys is just a great... image/metaphor/what have you. And Burt Ives singing!
• (9) How the Grinch Stole Christmas - the ultimate in redemption tales. I love the Whos down in Whoville, I love the Grinch's little puppy, I love that it's Boris Karloff narrating and I LOVE Dr. Seuss. How can you go wrong! Btw, clearly I am speaking of the original animated version. CLEARly.
• (8) Home Alone - although more recent viewings have me sort of mortified about how the family all snaps at each other (and not just Buzz! Like, Kevin to his mom and his mom to Kevin and all of them! More like les incompetents meanie-mos!), nostalgia and general awesomeness wins me over. I still remember my dad buying this movie (which is a no-no for him. Why would you buy a movie?! Go outside and play. When I was a kid we didn't even HAVE a TV, I had to kill the chicken and pluck it when I was four on the farm for our Christmas dinner) in the early 1990s, and watching it on Christmas Eve until at some point we started going to midnight mass and therefore watching NBC's airing of George Bailey instead. The family's trials and tribulations in trying to get back to Kevin, John Candy's AMAZING tales from his polka band, and of course the massive Mousetrap that is the house awaiting the Wet Bandits all combines for one of the best movies of all time. The fact that it takes place at Christmas (and also in Chicago!!) is icing on the cake. Or the feathers on the glue. Whatever.
• (7) Holiday Inn - look. I've blogged about this before, but suffice it to say, Holiday Inn is the original Christmas romcom (at least that I know of, which is good enough for me!), Fred Astaire dances, Bing Crosby (BING!!! CROSBY!!!) sings, and White Christmas (one of the most lovely Christmas songs ever) comes from Holiday Inn, and not that stupid technicolor sequel. Ehem. 
• (6) Love Actually - I haven't specifically blogged about this one, but cmon. It's sprinkled throughout my life post-2003. Also, this is definitely The Movie when it comes to me breaking down. I recently posted on facebook about it, and a few of my girlfriends from college (hi NY Sam!!) were like "ah yes. This movie reminds me of MA sobbing hysterically and not being able to contain it so she ended up spitting in that girl's hair in front of her." Ok none of them said that last bit but I know they were thinking it! Anyway, it's so glorious, especially if you don't think about it too hard. Hugh Grant's soliloquy about being the country of Harry Potter? Yes please. Hugh Grant's "ooooo would we call her chubby?" line? YES please. Hugh Grant dancing around whatever 10 Downing St? YES PLEASE! Also, you know, the Billy Nighy storyline makes me weep, I love foreign languages and Colin Firth, and the cutie pie stepson of Liam Neeson is so GREAT.
• (5) A Charlie Brown Christmas - between the Vince Guaraldi music that I can't stop listening to on Spotify, the Charles Schultz' terribly sad personal story that informs the character of Charlie Brown, Lucy IN LIFE! Lucy is my favorite of all TIME, and Linus' telling of the story of Christmas, I'm already moved beyond tears by the time all the kids learn the lesson of non-commercialized reasons to celebrate Christmas, come to CB's house, take Snoopy's decorations and fix up the tree. But then when they start singing looo looos (to the tune of Hark the Herald Angels Sing) I'm filled with Christmas joy!! I love it.
• (4) Miracle on 34th Street - I'm speaking of the Natalie Wood/Maureen O'Hara version, just in case you were wondering. I love the guy who plays Kris Kringle. I love that "Uncle Fred" is able to use the Postal Service (MAIL!) to legally prove (LAW!) that he's Santa. I love that there's romance and Maureen O'Hara learns that you have to have faith in people sometimes. I love that Kris finds the house for Susie. I love all the side characters, like Alfred and Mr. Shelhammer (and Mrs. Shelhammer and her fondness for cocktails) and the district attorney and Judge Harper and Fred Mertz as Judge Harper's friend. I love the idea that out there there really is a Santa Claus (or Sinterklaas) walking amongst us, tweaking things to make our Christmases wonderful. I believe!
• (3) A Christmas Story - I love my family, but it is with GREAT COMFORT I think of the 24 hours of A Christmas Story playing during Christmas, for the parts of the day between the big meal and the awkward passing around of cash in front of the tree (then we get to take pictures, and my grandfather cries, and I get a little weepy and then my cousin's baby makes us all laugh). This movie is without a doubt, one of my favorite movies of all time. Is it the bully getting his? Is it the triple dog dare? Is it the little brother not being able to put his arms down? Is it the cursing? Is it cause it's FRAGILE - must be Italian!? Is it the red ryder bb gun?! It's more than the sum of its parts, and I just fucking love it.
• (2) It's a Wonderful Life - "He didn't save enough money to send Harry away to college, let alone me. But he did help a few people get out of your slums, Mr. Potter, and what's wrong with that? Why... here, you're all businessmen here. Doesn't it make them better citizens? Doesn't it make them better customers? You... you said... what'd you say a minute ago? They had to wait and save their money before they even ought to think of a decent home. Wait? Wait for what? Until their children grow up and leave them? Until they're so old and broken down that they... Do you know how long it takes a working man to save $5,000? Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about... they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn't think so. People were human beings to him. But to you, a warped, frustrated old man, they're cattle. Well in my book, my father died a much richer man than you'll ever be!" and "Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends." and "A toast to my big brother George: The richest man in town." See. Now I'm crying
• (1) Muppet Family Christmas - I'm out of words to express how I feel about this movie. Luckily I've done it before. But if you don't want to read that, here's my summary. Family! Redemption! Muppets! Fraggles! Sesame Street! SINGING. Oh the singing. In other words, the perfect cocktail for the perfect Christmas movie.

Now go on, tell me in the comments what I've forgotten. And watch out for the icy patch!

Putting the Christ back in Chanukah... oh wait.

I've a bone to pick with you, America. And by America, I really mean those of you who think that people saying "Happy Holidays" is somehow interfering with your First Amendment right to religious freedom. Examples: Bill O'Reilly, the new priest at my parents' church, sanctimonious cashiers at the Pentagon City mall, great aunts and annoying overzealous relatives, neighbors, people everywhere.

Here's the deal.

This country? The one we live in? Is diverse. I know it pains you that this is so, and I'd apologize except let's be honest, the only people I wish we could kick out are YOU. But ok, fine. We all have a right to exist and be happy next to each other, but that doesn't mean I have to bow to your beliefs just cause you think they're right. If you wanna wish me a Merry Christmas, that's your prerogative. However, if I were walking down the street or buying something from you or thanking you for holding a door, and you're a stranger? I'm not going to assume that that's the right thing to say to you.

Here's why.

You/I might be Jewish. You/I might be Muslim. You/I might be Hindu, or Buddhist, or Sikh, or Taoist, or Zoroastrian, or a follower of Obeah. You/I might follow a completely different religious path entirely, or

wait for it

not believe in any god at all. I know! These people exist! It's shocking!

The thing is this, America. For all your whinging about the United States being founded in the Judeo-Christian tradition, the LAWS (you've heard of those, right? Like facts? They're sort of like opinions except they actually matter) of the land say no establishment of religion. So while you might think, actually, your random county in Tennefuckingssee is at risk for being ruled by Sharia law (I know, I am worried for you guys too), that's unfuckingConstitutional. So is requiring stores or neighbors or randos to wish you a GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING CHRISTMAS.

Now.

The Constitution doesn't legislate feelings (although honestly? Sometimes I wish it did), so you're allowed to be pissed all you want. But don't come whining to me about it. Don't bemoan the state of the world when, you know, it's the first night of Chanukah and your grocery store clerk wished you a happy fucking holidays. Do you know how lucky you are? Not just that you can afford food, but that you have a grocery store clerk who is nice enough to be kind to you, as opposed to grunting rude sounds in your general direction after being harassed all fucking day long by assholes like me that are like "but wait, do you have Harpoon Winter WARMER? Can you go look? Please? I neeeeeeeed it."

I do. It's true.

If you want to snidely reply "you mean Merry Christmas" back, that's fine, but then YOU'RE a dick. I get wishing people a Merry Christmas when you know for a fact that they celebrate that holiday. But - newsflash! - not everyone does, and your relentless hissy fit makes others feel isolated from you. Some of them even are Christians, like my dear mom who had to sit through being told that if she wished her fucking priest a fucking happy holiday, he'd punch her in the nose.

Yeah. Cause that's something Jesus would do.

Like I said above, it's your prerogative to do whatever the hell you want as long as it does not impinge upon my actual liberties. But you're coming pretty fucking close, America. For when you shout down anyone who gets the fact that we are not a monolithic or monotheistic society, you make it a hostile environment for someone who MERELY WANTED TO BE KIND AND NOT OFFEND YOU. That DOES come up against the First Amendment, but not the religion clause. You know - the one that talks about abridging the freedom of speech.

Dramatic, you say? Yes. I am. Because I love our country, and you fuckers are fucking it up. So instead of a Merry Christmas, I wish a happy fuck off, to you and yours. And a wonderful 2012, may it re-elect our Communist, Socialist, Fascist, Muslim, Christian, non-American-born, Hawaiian President Obama.

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

People Who Rock:

1. Becca. I sort of wish that I was a dude so I could be engaged to her on MY birthday and she would be the best fiancee ever. Although, I'm not sure I could compete with her actual fiance. Crap;
2. Similarly, happy birthday to Neil (Becca's actual fiance);
3. My friend Rosemary! Today is her 30th and with it kicks off the next 2(ish) years wherein my closest friends (in age, but also, for the most part in life) all hit the big 3-0!!;
4. The Muppets. Why are they so awesome?! Also, John Denver, for the best Christmas album, ever. Been listening to Kermit (and the Muppets) plus John sing The Christmas Wish on loop and it's making my holiday season. I DON'T know if you believe in Christmas or IF you have presents underneath the Christmas tree. BUT if you believe in love, that WILL be more than enough for you to come and celebrate with me!!;
5. Similarly, Mairi Campbell (via Lemmonex, in a slightly roundabout way). Her version of Auld Lang Syne is gorgeous;
6. Eggnog. Did you guys know that it was invented to counteract Seasonal Affect Disorder? No? That's not true? Shhhhhh let me believe it; and
7. Magnolia and DCBlogs!! Thanks guys!! Except... now DC might think I need a depressintervention?.

People Who Suck:
You know what? I think we've had enough down time this week. No one sucks!! Happy weekend!!

Except you Chris Christie, you dickhead.

It's coming on Christmas, they're cutting down trees

Hey DC Blogs readers!! Um... this is a slightly more sad post than a blog promising drunk wedding stories (etc) is accustomed to. If you want happy fun stuff, feel free to leave for other posts! I'd start with today's People Who Rock, People Who Suck or Wednesday's If I Were Mitt Romney! Thanks for visiting, and I'll be back next week with the usual fare.

So.

It's barely December (feel the temperatures?!) and yet as if by magic entire blocks of houses and trees are covered in twinkly lights. Businesses are decked out in red and green for Christmas, blue and white for Chanukah, and a weird amalgamation of colors for Kwanzaa (seriously - look into the holiday retailers. It's not that hard). It's impossible to avoid the strains of all sorts of holiday music on the radio, which means Ella Fitzgerald and Bing Crosby of course, but also Adam Sandler and this terrible version of the 12 Days of Christmas Z100 created so long ago I still can taste the Otis Spunkmeyer cookies from the high school days of yore when I hear it.

Yes. I used yore. That's how unavoidable the music is.

If sentient beings came down from outer space (and didn't immediately pulverize us for being idiots and not realizing we could all be pretty awesome if we just. Got. Along) they'd probably think this must be the Happiest Time of Year (tm). This is of course what mass marketed cards, cheery music, sappy movies and angry Christians fighting the nonexistent "war against Christmas" (also tm, now that the Daily Show ROCKED IT OUT) would have you believe, but you know and I know that in reality the weeks between overstuffing yourself with stuffing and singlehandedly destroyed forests of wrapping paper trees can be some of the darkest of the year.

And I don't just mean light wise, although that certainly doesn't help.

When we're in this time of year, some days it feels like the only thing keeping me from hiding under the covers with Friends DVDs and a few pints of Chubby Hubby are my anti-depressants. And I understand that I'm more susceptible to those sorts of thoughts, which by the by is also why I get the good meds. But I also understand that in no way is Depression the cause (or the only one) for this sort of malaise, because the entire country isn't afflicted with the big D.

Jeez. I hope not!

But this is the time of year when I sort of feel like we take the measure of our lives, and find them lacking. Perhaps that's just cause (for many of us) we see old family and friends and are reminded of all the things we didn't do in the past year; all the things that didn't change, all the goals not achieved. Isn't that the point of New Year, when everyone vows to change all the things they wish they already changed about themselves and to work really really hard at it for a month (or so) while the memory of the dark days of December is still upon them?

Seriously. This is how I speak where it's nonstop Nat King Cole.

The funny thing is that most times of year, I'm thrilled that there's more I want to do/be/obtain/achieve. If I was perfect, then I might as well be dead - there's nothing more to live for. Usually that doesn't mean I'm UNhappy or NOT content with my life - I have amazing friends and family, the means to live comfortably, a job, Friends DVDs and Barack Obama as my president. Yet at this time of year, suddenly the things that are missing loom large. My friends' divorce only highlights that they loved and lost, true, but I'm still in the "never loved at all" camp, which I hear is worse. Cute pictures of Anna's niece on facebook make me ache for a little baby to play with (not to call my own. Even Christmas doesn't make me blind to the truth that I am SO irresponsible). Songs about Silver Bells force me to confront the fact that I love New York more than I love DC, and then that leads to the logical conclusion - why am I here? Darkness falls early and the snow rain falls down and it seems like the whole world is just weeping with frustration, or worse, despair.

Yay.

You know I love Christmas (I always will - points to the winner!) and it really is just about my favorite time of year other than the beginning of the new year Ima create in May (in other words, my birthday). The snow rain always clears and then I can see the bright lights on the streets, and the people being kinder to each other while waiting for their red cups at Starbucks, and the presents under the tree, and the generosity of the human spirit. But the darker side of that "Grown Up Christmas List" is that no matter what we do, lives ARE torn apart, wars will continue to start, and some things are so awful that not even time will heal all hearts. To a less dramatic degree, people we love will die and friends will divorce and I will start 2012 by kissing someone history proves I will likely not be kissing at the start of 2013.

It's enough to make you wish you had a river you could skate away on.

If I were Mitt Romney

... I would be pretty fucking pissed off that I can't get a goddamned break from the party for which I've totally sold my soul to the devil (unless Mormons don't believe in the devil).

... I would be itching to challenge (most) of my contestants to a spelling bee.

... I would have an Incredibles-esq computer program that flips through former "front runners" and Xes them out. I would also watch this when my head threatened to explode.

... I would be tempted to shout "Newt? Newt GINGRICH?! Rly bishes?! Don't we know how this shit turns out?!"

... I would be nervous about the candidate "Above, None of the"

... I would start shitting on caucuses now. Primary elections are the only real thing and the like. And if Newt starts pulling ahead in New Hampshire, start shitting on everything north of the Mason Dixon line.

... I would similarly adopt a southern accent.

... I'd offer to buy everyone in America a puppy.

... I wouldn't go on SNL for fear that Americans would like the robot Mitt Romney more than me.

... I would get drunk and go tell America to fuck itself.

#DivorceSeason2011

While 2011 has been the Year of the Wedding (seriously. I want to start making an MA calendar. It would start on my birthday, and every year would be a predictor of snarktasticness. Just think of the possibilities! And yes, I am that self-centered), I've said before that I've attended QUITE a few weddings before 2011, and have been a bridesmaid not QUITE twenty-seven times, but more than your average bear.

Because who the fuck asks a bear to be a bridesmaid. Amirite?

The point is, what I'm trying and failing to say, completely, and that's because it's awkward and making me feel shitty, and BLAH - the first couple for whom I was a bridesmaid is getting divorced.

Ugh.

The story of their relationship was deleted by my mass edits, but suffice it to say, I never thought they should get married. I didn't tell them that however, because by the time I was in the picture they were practically engaged and I have a rule about the point of no return. Ok, that's a lie - I didn't have a rule at the time, but this situation GAVE me the rule, which was confirmed many times over by other ill-advised pairings. The rule is this: you can and should say something to a friend at the beginning of the relationship, if you think there's a real cause for concern. But once that person is headed down the path of engagement (not necessarily a ring yet, but very close to it) you keep your mouth shut except for in the case of abuse.

It's a cowardly rule, but with a point.

Which is that if the shit hits the fan, you will still be friends with them enough to help pick up the pieces (not of shit. Ew. Mixed metaphor fail). When this couple got engaged, On Again Off Again Ex told them in a drunken haze that he thought they were making a huge mistake. He was demoted from groomsman to enemy in 24 hours flat, and I had to ask myself - how did that help anything? They didn't break up, and even if they had, they would have wondered if it was because of him. Seven years later, I doubt that's remotely on their mind (nay, hope not!) cause even if it were, what's the use? A belated, resigned, unhappy told-you-so?

No gracias.

Because even though I felt the same way, as I - in a similarly drunken haze, it was college for chrissake - predicted to OAOA Ex that they would be divorced in 5 years time, I never wanted it to happen. I'm a romcom fan! I want things to end happily ever after, especially when I was 21 and the world was oh so much more black and white than grey. Now of course, I think that the best you can hope for is happily ever after (most of the time). But clearly that didn't even happen, because the papers are signed and her last name is back to its original and all in all this sucks.

A lot.

A few years back, in 2007 when I was having my first big wedding year (and started this blog, incidentally), I was talking with one of my youngest uncles about how crazy it was that I was a mere 24 and everyone I knew was tying the knot. It made me feel old. He smiled grimly and said wait until your friends start getting divorced - that makes you feel it a whole new level. And he's right.

But also wrong.

I don't feel older than I did when I was 24. I feel oh so much younger, because I don't worry about what my life will look like when I'm 30 or even 40, or 50. I know now that life just happens, and the best thing you can do is to make the most of it, whether that's remembering how attractive you are to the opposite sex when you go through a sad break-up, or improving your resume with the help of ridiculously over-confident friends who make you feel like a rockstar when the threat of layoffs draws near.

Instead.

I feel that my level of cynicism has reached new levels. Or maybe even worse - my level of believing in hope and joy and wonderfulness has reached new lows. Because once upon a time, these two people really fucking loved each other. And now they are but exes, in a way that I've never experienced and some would argue you can never truly come back from (not saying it's bad to get divorced. Definitely not saying that. At all. Often is good thing. But just really hard in ways that break-ups are not). And there's no word for that but shitty.

In the end, I'm grateful I have friends around who would (and do) keep me grounded when it comes to romance and romantic partners. I'm grateful for people like OAOA Ex who has been a great comfort in all of this. I'm grateful that I DID keep my mouth shut, because now I can be there for my friend when she needs to sit on the phone and yell, or cry, or say nothing at all.

Despite all that gratitude, however, today I am sad.

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

Happy weekend y'all!!

People Who Rock:

1. Jon freaking Stewart and his writers! (Especially Miles Kahn and Rory Albanese who keep me cracking up via the twitter). Knocking it out of the GD park over and over and over and OVER again, gentlemen and ladies;
2. My sister. She is just... the best? Ever? Sorry other sisters (including me!);
3. Salman Khan and Alexander Berger. Also, the NYT for keeping me apprised of people who are really fucking awesome;
4. Marian Keyes, for all her Walsh sister books. I want one on Helen so badly, but I can understand why she wouldn't write it. However, seriously, they are SO SO GOOD. Actually, fuck it. ALL of her books are so so good;
5. Magnolia and vvk for drinks on Tuesday. I had a riDICulous amount of fun;
6. Ramona, Becca, Anna, Dan, Oscura (man. Best/worst pseudonym, ever), Chelsea, Julie, fave prof, DC Laura, Grace, Arielle, Christine, oh god and just everyone for helping me with job crap. So much appreciation; and
7. My mom for helping me see I have the BEST idea for the chick lit novel I've always wanted write. I'm positive nothing will come of it (nothing ever does) but this one is a great idea. Too bad I guess. But my mom still rocks.

People Who Suck:

1. Uh, me. Awk. I DID cut my hair and I DID donate to the "Beautiful Lengths" partnership between Pantene and the American Cancer Society. Sorry for not making that clearer. Do you guys need pics? I feel like that's particularly self indulgent;
2. Fruit flies. GO AWAY. You make my enjoyment of ute-ing oopples and banoonoos MUCH less (points to the winner). Plus, you're just dumb and don't live very long, so why don't you just go and not exist in the first place;
3. Seth Burroughs, Elizabeth Robbee, and Ben Byers for "December to Remember". Why do idiots like you get to work for Congress while awesome people all over are unemployed;
4. The weather. Why is it ALWAYS so shitty on the day of my grad school's holiday party? All mama wants to do is get happily toasted WITHOUT FREEZING;
5. Chris Christie. Either until he stops hating on cops and teachers (the very people who you know, MAKE SOCIETY RUN IN A CIVIL WAY), he is number five on the people who suck list. Because he sucks, times five;
6. Fracking. Eek - so bad. SO SO bad. I know we need energy from domestic sources, but this is PRETTY CLEARLY not the way to do it. Solar power now! And other green ways! YAY; and 
7. People who shoot other people. I don't think I need a reason, do I? No. I thought not.

Uh. That was a depressing thought to end on. So think of baby pandas! SO CUTE!!

Low maintenance on the outside, high maintenance on the inside

So.

As I hinted at stated straight out on Monday, one of my biggest concerns in any haircutting situation is how easy it is for me to not have to do anything to it. I'm incredibly lazy when it comes to my physical appearance, and thank the gods of genetics (I heard it) I've been ridiculously, totally undeservedly lucky in the facial department. Old roommates loathe me because I don't need to pluck my eyebrows - they're naturally shaped in a pretty good arch. Despite having dark brown hair, the ones covering my legs and arms and upper lip grow in much lighter, almost blonde, so there's no need for dyes or waxes or whatever. My eyelashes are curly on their own, which is good because I'm pretty sure I'd poke myself in the eye over and over again if I needed to use one of those medieval torture devices. My skin is relatively clear, my nose and ears are free of wandering hairs, chapstick and I are buds, and in general I'm just a lucky fucking duck.

I know. I hate me too.

This isn't to say - in ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM - that I am Hawt Stuff. Don't get me wrong, I don't think I'm bad to look at, however, my point is merely that I can get up, run a brush through my hair walk out of the house in 4 minutes without looking vaguely homeless. Additionally, my extra time is not spent on tweaking things, but instead on napping.

Oh the napping.

So when I was in the lady's chair last Friday I was like "I just need it to be low maintenance, because I'm low maintenance." And then the little voice in my head that sounds like Harry Burns said "you're the worst kind; you're high maintenance, but you THINK you're low maintenance." And instead of staring at him blankly like Sally Albright does (or faking orgasm noises cause that's fun!) I started cracking up.

Understandably, the hair lady was surprised.

I felt the need to continue. "Well... low maintenance when it comes to my physical appearance. Because my therapy bill would suggest otherwise for the internal stuff." She smiled - warily - but I knew I was onto something.

How hilarious/sad/ironic is it that while you couldn't tell me why people need to wear foundation, I have spent years in therapy just to get to a normal person's level of insecurity. At some point at Dan and Anna's wedding (recap next week!) when complimented on my toast, I began asking "do you really think so? Or are you just saying that cause you know it's what I want to hear." Yes, there were a few (dozen) glasses of champagne involved.

And Dan's therapist mother. That was fun.

My point is, I wear my low maintenance ish like a badge. Who gets bogged down in make-up and tweezers and pleasing men competing with other women? Not I! I am unruffled by silly notions of beauty and requirements of our modern age. And it's lucky that the weird combination of Irish Italianness made it possible for me to be so glib about it.

But.

When it comes down to it, I overanalyze every. Single. Thing (see? I keep doing it! Why? What does this MEAN?! Oh god, I'm over analyzing this now too. Crap). Why do you think that older woman kept looking at me on the bus today? Is there something on my face? Did I accidentally brush up against her when we were getting on and now she thinks I'm a rude bitch? Should I apologize? Would that be awkward for her? And would the guy sitting next to me think I'm being weird? And then how could we do a meet cute cause dayum he is HAWT STUFF but why would he ever go for me? Am I pissing him off with my Vanessa Carlton/Michelle Branch iPod mix? Why hasn't Michelle Branch made another album? Doesn't she know how much I crave her happy blend of pop, whimsy and cheer?

Etc.

The Harry Burns voice is right. High maintenance, but think I'm low maintenance. The worst kind? Or the best? Or probably just about normal.

Downloading vs Borrowing vs Stealing

I have an ethical question for all y'all. In this day and age, what's the rule about downloading music vs borrowing it vs stealing it outright?

Let me back up.

Since I started running lo these many months ago (jaaayzus the Xmas music is incessant despite the spring-like temperatures), I found that I needed new music All. The. Time. Also, apparently I started doing that annoying thing where you emphasize a phrase by capitalizing and inserting punctuation, but that's not important right now. What IS important is that between Rihanna and Beyonce, I had a relatively strong catalog of popular music to pick from that would give me both the peppiness needed to keep running and the beat to which to do so.

Uh. That might be grammatically incorrect.

Anyway, the thing is, I'm not the world's richest person. And even if I was, you can bet your bippy I'd be donating my money to Worthy Causes (tm) and also, my alma mater because if you donate $4mil they name a building after you and I like the idea of the MA Building. In any case, I'm just not really seeing the point of paying $1-$2 per song when I can:

1. Find the songs as easy as 1, 2, 3 for free, albeit in less than legal ways, and
2. Spend that money to feed my diet coke addiction.

However, when it dawned on my sister Grace that I had purloined a few songs from the interwebs without technically paying for them, she was shocked! Shocked! To find that is gambling going on here. Or that I had no morals.

One of those.

She was outraged that I was "hurting" people by downloading the music for free, and when I countered with the fact that I thought Bey would probably be OK with it since she's ridiculously wealthy as it is, she openly mocked me for calling Beyonce Bey and then told me that instead of thinking about the top people, I needed to picture sound engineers and other words that mean all the other workers on music that I don't really know because I am not cool like that.

I was appropriately ashamed.

And yet, as I wrapped up my (re)viewing of Morning Glory a few too-early mornings ago, I found myself intrigued by the song that plays in the credits. A quick internet search revealed the song to be "Strip Me" by Natasha Bedingfield, and the third link in my Googled page was "download free!"

Eep. Almost as bad as a diet coke pusher (ie, grocery stores?).

So now I need to know, dear internets. What's the dilly. Am I Terrible Person (also tm) for having downloaded these songs without paying my fair share? Where does that line extend to? For example, Grace argued that if I get an album out of the library and burn it to my computer, that is also "stealing" when really, hello?! I borrowed the disk! They had to know that was gonna happen! What about if I get music from my friends, which maybe they paid for (and maybe they didn't, I'm certainly in no position to ask)?

Is buying from iTunes (or wherever) the only way to do the right thing?

Help. Be honest, please. If you really think this is a scourge of our society, tell me! And if you're with me, FIGHT WITH ME. Or something. Because I really really want this Natasha Bedingfield song and I'm itching to hulkshare the shit out of it.

Blonde or brunette, gentlemen prefer long tresses

So. (This is a heavy parens post. No idea why.)

This year has been the Year of the Wedding (don't listen to the Chinese, they don't know what they're talking about). And I've one more to recap (I know, you're biting your lip in anticipation. Don't do that though, cause like, it's cold out and you might draw blood. Ouch), but before I do, there are a few things I have to discuss. Today, our topic is my haircut on Friday.

Oh I'm GOING somewhere with this.

I actually don't know the precise date of my last haircut, although I do know it was in 2011 when it was still gray and rainy outside (because I feared for my post-haircut frizz control being ruined by the weather). So February? March?

Whatever.

Point is, shortly thereafter I started the march of the bridesmaid dresses, and thus no time seemed appropriate for a haircut. Why? Updos! The longer the better (well. To a point. Anyone else see that episode of What Not to Wear with the very, very long haired lady? Too much friend. Too much). I know I could always get a blow-out, but as should be clear (aforementioned frizz, general Italianness) that shit would disappear in five seconds of not perfectly dry, 72 degree weather. Or dancing.

And yes, it is ridiculous that I've thought about this.

Anyway, by the end of the last wedding (late October), my hair had grown longer than anyone could remember it being. And as I sat there discussing the impending nuptials with my mother/sister/the bride/friends/anyone who would listen, I often mentioned I was so excited about being able to finally dice the mane I had grown. All asked me one question.

So, are you going to donate?

To be admittedly selfish, or at the very least self-centered, I hadn't even considered it in my life until that point. My concern with a haircut is usually how much I'm going to sob hysterically afterwards (my poor stylist of a decade, who cut the same cut EVERY TIME, did not understand. "But MA!" she'd beg. "Nothing's DIFFERENT! I PROMISE you!" Didn't matter), will it air-dry appropriately wavy (I'm lazy) and can it fit into a messy bun (like, really lazy). Recently, however, I've had more than a few occasions to recognize the importance of real-hair wigs and hairpieces. Not to get into the details, but more than a few women in my life who are very important to me have made use of them of late, and I realized - dudes.

I had an opportunity to do something nice!

And so I vowed to donate. I was thinking of going short (sometimes super short, like Mariska Hargitay third season of SVU short) and so I started posing the question to pretty much any friend who crossed my path. "What do you think?" I'd ask, folding my hair up underneath itself. "I need to cut 8-10 inches, so how about this? Or this? Or this?" Without fail my female friends would be all "zomg, so CUTE" or something slightly more erudite, and without fail my male friends would be like, "but WHY?!"

And I remembered.

In the past, whether it was HS Ex or GS Ex or EC Ex, boyfriends always objected - sometimes vehemently - to my haircuts. And as I said? I got the same. One. For a DECADE. It's not like this cut, which is certainly a serious lop off the top of my head. It was the same just below the shoulder layered look with sideswept bangs. EVERY TIME. So why would they freak out more than me, who is admittedly a psycho? This time around it started with my father, who is supPOSEd to be my biggest fan and love me no matter what (harrumph). Then my friends' husbands. Then my own (best!) friend Dan. Dude after dude expressed shock, doubt, and confusion about why in GOD'S name any girl at all would cut her hair.

I blame testosterone.

Because with exes, ok, fine, I can almost see it (if I'm being particularly generous). But these guys, the ones this time around, don't have to look at my face every day (in fact, it would be downright worrisome if they did). None of them will be grabbing the back of my head anytime soon in a fit of passion (eurgh, awk) or caressing it as though to prove they are caring and generous and don't just want to get laid.

Dudes, we're onto you.

My point is, they're not attracted to me. And to prove my point, my friend Anna's gay hair stylist on the day of her wedding, when he found out I was cutting my hair, was aghast. "But it's such lovely hair? You're so young! Why would you go short?"

I mean cmon. He could actually have had a financial stake in this. WTF.

And so, dear friends, while I can't put to rest the endless battle of Blonde vs Brunette (not to mention ginger, black, grey, white, mixtures of any of those and of course all the colors of the rainbow found in salons and CVS locations), I can say this. When it comes to long vs short, even when donating for a great cause, (most) gentlemen prefer long. Perhaps moreso than women do (ifyouknowwhattamean). Something to keep in mind if you want to be in the next Year of the Wedding (which hopefully will wait for the appropriate 12 year cycle).

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

You know I'm almost really for reals no srsly I swear back when I'm back to PWRing, PWSing. For definitely maybe yes no sort of ish.

People Who Rock:

1. The friends/fam I saw over the last week (Grace, Michael, Alexis, parents, Christine, her fam, my Italian grandparents, Arielle (and thank you esp for coming to our race!), Anne and Maggie (I love you girls and I'm sorry times are rough), Emilia (and her puppy Finn!!!!), Caroline and her lovely husband, NY Laura, Becca's fiance Neil and Becca, of course, for being just. You know. Truly amazing in the face of a psycho friend;
2. The best bar ever and especially John Quinn. Miss you guys;
3. My old work husband. First of all, dude has got the bluest of blue eyes ever that see right through all your bullshit. Although, to be fair, he did sit right next to me for a full year and saw me through some serious ups and downs (not the most serious of course, but still) and so he probably DOES see right through MY bullshit. Second of all, and more importantly, he is just nice and smart and funny and also hates his job - it was nice to have someone to commiserate WITH instead of TO for once;
4. My sister in law Alexis!! She knows why, but if I told YOU, you'd know too much;
5. My parents. I'm still not over them being so remarkably chill this past weekend amid my falling apartness. As I said to my therapist, I was more worried about their reaction to the news I might lose my job than I was about the news I might lose my job, and they performed admirably;
6. My friend Luiza. I value her ability to make me laugh in the most dire of circumstances, and also? Just her loveliness as a friend. And you know, while we're at it, her loveliness in life because why not; and
7. Chris Wright, RL Stine, and others for tweeting me. Dudes are some of my (smaller) heroes. Now if JK Rowling tweeted me, I think I could die of happiness.

People Who Suck:

1. My coworkers. Not all of them. Just most;
2. Married men who hit on single women at parties. I can see your ring. That's gross;
3. I don't want to say Republicans. I think what I want to say is people who don't understand that we are in a huge shitstorm right now and if the people who study things like economics and social science say that cutting the payroll tax is helping dredge us out of the recession, then MAYBE WE SHOULD DO IT. Also, people who say that 1mil/yr isn't a ridiculous amount of money. I'm not saying people shouldn't make that money, I'm saying they can be taxed more than my friends and family who are being taxed at 40% but making less than $200K;
4. The OWS protestors in New York. I know I talked about the DC-ers last week, but I found this weekend a lot of really liberal people being furious with the NY contingent. I went into my old company and the businesses in the lower part of the building have really suffered because of the protestors hanging out in the lobby to get warm, which resulted in increased security, which resulted in lost business, etc. Also, I heard a lot of anecdotal evidence of some serious harassment of my friends and their coworkers. Guess what OWSers? Bankers and lawyers are part of the 99% too! PICK YOUR GODDAMNED BATTLES AND STOP MAKING IT HARD FOR ME TO SUPPORT YOU. Ugh. I'm so annoyed when I have to tend to agree with people who are smirky and on Fox News;
5. Chris Christie. Either until he stops hating on cops and teachers (the very people who you know, MAKE SOCIETY RUN IN A CIVIL WAY), he is number five on the people who suck list. Because he sucks, times five;
6. A society that doesn't value trash pick-up, feeding the homeless, TEACHERS (for chrissake), police and firemen, construction workers laying out fiber optic cables (uh, I might be wrong on my jargon there) throughout the country and TV writers who do funny shows like Happy Endings and How I Met Your Mother as much as the ONE random DUDE who throws baskets in the hoop, the douches who lied to protect their own interests and made bank off it, ex-Congressmen (those who are and those who are not running for President) for their "advocacy" skills - aka their ability to schmooze with their friends, and Angefuckinglina Jofuckinglie. Let's spread the wealth a bit there, America. YES. I SAID IT; and 
7. Fox News. Shithead motherfuckers. Thank god for Jon Stewart and his ability to take you bitches down. See below:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Much Ado About Stuffing
www.thedailyshow.com
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