A Onsieless Wedding

Danielle and Jon, this post is dedicated to you, mainly because it was your wedding and it would be selfish to dedicate this post to pictures of me in onesies. Nonetheless, here's one for the road:

Me doing the robot in a onesie. Jeeeeaaaaaloooouuus.

Almost a month ago, I got to attend one of the most joyful, fun and creative weddings EVER. Caps means business. P.S. This is going to look more like your kindergarten reading assignment than an actual post. Sometimes life just needs to be a photo montage with a sentence. CUE MONTAGE.

Danielle (my witty/cat loving/maxi-pad wearing besty) and Jon (the practical/cat loving/converse but used to be NB wearing new addition to my extended non-Jewish family)

NB. Oh memories.

Check out the GIANT maxi pad she is wearing. I love the internet.

 married in a beautiful and heart warming ceremony on the beach.

That's what the ceremony looked like before the people arrived. Once the people arrived, it looked like this, but with people.

 I had the pleasure of helping Danielle make sure the day went smoothly. Meaning, I got to kick hippies off of the beach and be in complete awe of how beautiful she looked,

Beautiful right?

 and be impressed with how handsome the groom looked,

Eat your heart out, LOLCATZ.

 Even the sun thought they were really really good looking. Cue God music and parting clouds.

No wedding is complete without the sun taking siesta to give you perfect lighting.

Soon they were married and walking down the aisle to Taio Cruz. Fiiiiine, their recessional was Queen.

CUE THE DRINKING. I began mixing my champagne and wine like a booty-hoe in a rap video

which obviously helped me give the most awesome speech ever. Awkward body language? Check. Mention Danielle's crush on John Cusack? Check. Tie love into speech? Check. Someone take me to the bank because I got a lotta checks!

But then Cory gave his speech and wore his tight pants and of course he was way funnier...

you can tell by all the people who were laughing during his speech. It was like David Bowie was doing 15 minutes of heartwarming stand-up comedy. Jon, stop trying to one up me with your funny friends who look better than I do in pants . Thanks.

After the speeches, we got to dance. I personally forgot how to do the "look like an angry Stevie Wonder" dance. However, seems like Danielle is up to date. Let me know if you want to contact her about some lessons.

Jon and Danielle totally pulled off their first dance without looking like any blind singers

Soon the night was over, leaving the most beautiful day to our memories. But, thanks to these pictures, we will never forget the moment Jon and Danielle had a very deep political conversation about cupcakes. Typical.

Thank you Jon and Danielle for sharing such a special day. You are an inspiring couple.

Playa's Gonna Play, J-Dater's Gonna Hate

Mindel has left the wild and created a J-Date account. J-Date is the Jew version of Match.com, for you goys out there who are unfamiliar. That's right. After 24 years of being single (with a whole lot of young shmucky boyfriends in between), mamacita is ready to find some Jew love.

Basically, Mindel pays a monthly membership fee and I get stuck searching for potential booty candidates...ahem...I mean boyfriends. Gross. Why? Well, she still hasn't figured out this whole internet fad and adds ".com" to every term she searches on Google. So, I have to reply to the e-mails, review the profiles, and find someone who doesn't look like Charles Manson. Move over Patti Stanger, a new matchmaking bitch is in town. Don't make me snap my fingers in a J formation.

After a lot of filtering, my mom (I) exchanged numbers with a little hottiepotottie. Here is how their first and last conversation went:

Jew Man: Hi.
Mindel: Hi.
Jew Man: So, if I can't see you for a couple of days, would you have phone sex with me?
Mindel: Are you fucking kidding me?

Fine. There was some more conversation in between all of that, but, I mean, that's the only part that really matters. Of course, I get the angry phone call from mom, "Who the hell are you setting me up with?!" Ummm, we'll gettem next time slugger?

P.S. I know you are so stoked that Mindel joined J-Date because now you get to hear about all of her hot messes.

I Am Awesome

Today I texted my joke to a guy I went on a date with one month ago. The response:

Can we make-out again?

Winner. I plan on using this whole "joke" tactic on the street. Let's see what I catch...hopefully nothing diseasy.

I Profess My Love

I am not the type to have crushes on my professors. Usually because they are women, they are just so incredibly awful that I want to throw bologna at their faces, or they don't have that typical mountain man look I love. Of course, there is an exception to my taste and I call him Smithypoo.

I am kind-of in love with my Constitutional Law professor. It's not the "I love you and I am going to violate your 4th amendment right to privacy by peering in your window with my night vision binoculars" type of love. I mean...I would never do that...nope...ahem. He is so nerdy and adorable with his ADHD and inability to finish a sentence properly. I just want to pinch his cheeks. He's like a Steve Urkel and Porky Pig sandwich. Not Kosher but adorable.

Best part? Everytime he calls on me he awkwardly looks right above my head. No. Seriously. He never looks me in the eye (probably because he's worried he'll get lost in the puddle of my large black tar pupils) and instead stares directly above my head. Maybe there is an invisible fat baby that only he can see, sitting on my head. That totally explains the headaches. Whattup wit dat Fat Baby?

The other day, I had to miss class. So, of course, I e-mailed Smithy-Poo to get the assignment and what I missed. His reply, and I quote, "Sorry, you couldn't be here. The class missed you." I know, right? He totally loves me.

Last, but not least, he looks like Max who owned The Max on Saved by the Bell. Oh. Is that your heart going pitter patter too now. Back off bitches.

My Excuse: It's Finals Week; Yours: None

Excerpt from a recent text convo with a guy I dated:

Me: What does a flower call his friend? BUDD-Y! hahahaha! (Yes, I made this up. Im-press-ive.)
Shawn: you are the dorkiest person ever
Me: Oooooooh! Will you notify Guinness? I always wanted to be in a booooooook. Thankyouverymuch.
Shawn: You are so good at making me want to punch you.
Me: Weird. You and Chris Brown flirt the same way.

Yep. Looks like that Mayan homeless man who read my palm and told me that I have an amazing love line must have been wrong. Weird.

I’m Not on a Boat, I’m on a Date!

Remember Taylor #2? [Use cottonmouth Marlon Brando gangsta voice here + Italian hand gesture] If you don’t, it’s because you haven’t been reading my blog obsessively and now you have offended me. You can earn my respect back by sending me a jar of pickles and a lifetime supply of Hydrogen Peroxide. Don’t hate. [Brando out]

So, after much debate, I agreed to a date because, who knows, he might be great. I am practically Busta Rhymes with these crazy flows. Wick-a, Wick-a, whaaaaa. My flow skillz being beside the point, this time around, questionably gay Taylor went for a more gender-neutral option. No yoga and fro-yo. Tacos and douche bags for two, please.

We were supposed to meet at 6:45, which gave me ample time to go home and change. Instead, I sat on my couch and refused to remove the outfit that made me look like a lesbian office assistant. I don’t know. I just really wanted to show up to a trashy taco bar in my work suit. I’ll raise you one lesbian prude for TWO tacos? FINE! I’ll change! I stomped to my closet, which is presently my floor, and picked the least wrinkled pair of jeans and sweater. Now, I looked like a beat up version of Natalie Portman. You know? As if she was punched multiple times in the face. Whatevs. I can deal. Also, Rachel gave the outfit a shrug. Two thumbs up!!!

Of course, I arrived 5 minutes EARLY. So, there I was standing awkwardly in between a guy wearing a shirt with more rhinestones on it than an Elton John suit and a group of girls, ALL wearing white dresses, with their hoo-ha’s near exposure. I mean, whenever it’s 50° outside, I think “what dress is most likely to show my vagina?” Britney Spears jealousy, for reals.
Taylor finally arrived at 7pm. Late. Ummm, I could have been sitting on my couch watching Wheel of Fortune, buddy. My time is precious…based on the novel Push by Sapphire. I let it slide nonetheless because I had sufficient entertainment surrounding me.

Now, when I first saw him I thought “Hmmm. Well, he’s cuter/taller and less goofy looking than I remember.” I guess alcohol can skew your perception. WHO KNEW?! He came up to me with a big smile and apologized for his tardiness. That was nice. At least he acknowledged his faux pas. We started a little awkward banter, which I love. Banter is the way to my cheesy heart. Mmmm, cheese. I digress. So, as we were talking, there was something about him. He just reminded me of someone, but I could not put my stubby little finger on it. We began the typical first date convo, "what kind of music do you like" “what do you do for fun” “have you ever slept with a hooker...” Typical.

Well, good thing I asked him that last question because his answer started like this “WELL, do I have an interesting story regarding that one…” Wait. What? You have an interesting story pertaining to my hooker question. Of course, you do. Because this just wouldn’t be my life if a guy didn’t call me an ice queen or have an interesting story about him and a hooker on our first date. BAM! It hit me like a ton of bricks. I KNOW WHO HE REMINDS ME OF!!!

Lochlyn Munro!!! Oh. You don’t know who that is? This very typical name, Lochlyn, does not ring a bell? Well, he is the questionably homosexual, goofy looking guy from White Chicks, Freddy vs. Jason, A Guy Thing, etc. Oh. You haven’t seen those award winners? WHO ARE YOU AND HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME?

Yes, he looks like Lochlyn (best name evaaaaaaaaaaa) and for the rest of the evening that’s all I could think about. Why am I the most annoying person on the planet? Since this is getting kinda long, to sum up the date:

1. Taylor did not sleep with a hooker. His wallet was almost stolen by a hooker AND her chain smoking pimp almost beat the Lochlyn out of his face
2. At some point during the date I began to wonder how he would react to me throwing a taco at his face. I don't think that's love.
3. He was an awesome and fun guy that I would love to hang out with, but no spark. But, hey, I made a new friend that I can eat tacos and do yoga with. Wow. New low.

Lesson In Love: Just because you are not interested in him as a boyfriend, does not mean you cannot make him a new friend. Less stress and STD'S. Woot woot.

Must Have Been My Janky Toe

It was time for “the talk.” Yes, you know to what I am referring. The “Are we or aren’t we official?” talk. I went in nervous and expecting the worst. In the end, I did not get what I want. Why? Well, he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with me. Most likely because I have this really janky pinky toe. It has an odd nail and it is kind of gross. I think he was intimidated by it. Yeah, that was most likely it.

Despite my jokes, it hurts. A lot. After a crying sesh with girlfriends, I still feel like someone was throwing mayonnaise at me all day (I hate mayo). I really liked him. He was the first guy that I liked in a long time and I was ready to take it to the next level. But he was not.

Nonetheless, I am satisfied. I am satisfied because I went into “the talk” knowing what I needed and I stood strong. He was not ready to give me a relationship, and my position did not falter. I want someone to be ready for me now. To want what I have to offer now. I am a wonderful girlfriend and a good person and I deserve someone who will appreciate me. I respect him. I respect his decision. He did what he felt was right for him and I am doing what I feel is best for me. Every woman deserves to feel like she is enough for the other person. That is what I want.

I may be sad right now, but most importantly, I am hopeful. I believe in fate. I also believe that fate is making and taking every move possible to create the future you desire. So, I did not get what I want this time, but at least I was proactive. I will eventually get what I want. Maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but soon, because I am willing to take those steps necessary to obtain it.

But, maybe I should get my janky toe fixed. That way the next guy has no excuse. Word :-P

I Count Like Count Chocula

I got this from another blog I occasionally read. I think this is relevant to all of our lives.

"Your wants and needs are just as important as his, and if you don’t express them because you think it will scare him away, then you’re saying you don’t count as much as he does."

I love this. My fear tends to take over my rationality. A lot. My amazing friends give me the best advice ever (I love you guys), yet I still act like a tool. So, here's to putting aside my doucheyness and saying I COUNT. Amen, sistahs.

Typical. Absolutely Typical.

Let me just premise this story with the fact that I have two Taylors in my phone.

Taylor #1: Taylor Robinette (as listed in my phone) is a cute redhead who enjoys awkward banter and CiCi's Pizza. She is fun, makes odd Popeye faces for my camera, and has a deep appreciation for Tyra Banks.

Taylor #2: He is a guy I was stuck talking to when Audra met the 34yr old love of her life. At first I thought he was gay. No. He's not gay. He texted me two days later asking me to join him "for a yoga sesh and then some fro yo." Again. Not gay.

There I was, resting on my couch. Watching Say Yes to the Dress, like any normal, single, 25yr old. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, goes the cell phone. Ohhhhh. Look. A text from Taylor #1. "What are you up to tonight?" I was excited because I've been wanting a little rendezvous with my fellow Tyra loving redhead. "I plan on going out! Let's meet up!" Taylor #1 responds two seconds later with "I plan on watching the sunset in PB and then going out from there. Come join me." Now, this struck me as a little odd. Why was Taylor watching the sunset in PB? Whatevs. Sugar muffin likes sunsets. I went with it and told her that I would meet her around 9, after the sunset...

HOLY FLIPP'N CRAP.

I may be in law school but DAMN! My data processing system is straight up jank. Word. As you may have realized as soon as I said "sunset," this was not Taylor #1 but rather questionably gay Taylor #2. Do I want to watch sunsets with him? No. Do I want to get drunk with him after the sunset? No. FAIL.

P.S. I am wearing an awesome polka dot onesie. I look like a brunette, midget version of Lucille Ball. For reals.