Your Girlfriend is Ugly

Weird

I was looking at my calendar a couple of days ago trying to plan out the upcoming weekend, when I realized that this Saturday the 15th is the date of The Wedding.

If you're not sure what I'm referring to then read MOH Update before you go any further into this blog.

"Holy Shit," I said to myself.

The fact that I would've been the Maid of Honor in a wedding this weekend, had things turned out differently, kind of blew my mind. I wondered how it all would've gone down:How would I have managed everything with the insane travel schedule I had this past summer and fall? Would I have been able to plan a shower? A Bachelorette party? Would I have be able to lose the 10 lbs I needed for the dress? (Since the dress was my motivation the 10lbs are still attached to my hips). And more importantly, had I let the whole situation go, would I have secured a Plus One?

It's a situation I think about, not out of guilt but out of curiosity.

Since everything went down I haven't heard from the bride. This past summer I emailed her a quick FYI to inform her that one of our mutual friends fathers had passed. She couldn't even email me back a thank you. But I know I haven't heard the last of her. I'm sure I'll hear from her 2, maybe 3 or 4 years down the road. Maybe she'll call but I'm betting on a hand-written note since we all know how good she is at those.

MOH Update

Well as many of you know I was asked to be the Maid of Honor in my best friend Jen's wedding. I met Jen in 2000 while attending Emerson and we have been close friends ever since. I was glad to do it and looking forward to picking out table cloths and flowers and my dress. I actually like that stuff. I'm a planner.

So back in February I was down at the bride's house for a visit. Everyone was all a flutter because the Save the Dates were going out in two weeks and oh how exciting it all is! So fast forward about three weeks and I'm talking to my mother. The Donna informed me that she received Jen's Save the Date and did she want me to book my hotel room at the same time they were booking theirs?

"Oh weird. Shana and I didn't get ours yet."

So the next day I emailed the bride just to ask if she had sent me a STD. Our mail was being funky so I just wanted to make sure that it hadn't gotten lost. She replied back that, yes in fact she had sent me one.

So I emailed back, "Oh Ok. Did you send Shana hers too?"

What I received back in her email was not what I was expecting: "You have a plus one, so if you want to bring your sister as your plus one we'd love to have her. Your plus one will be with your for the rehersal dinner and cocktail reception."

UH. WHAT.

I was shocked. Surely Jen just didn't tell me that 1.) my sister isn't invited to her wedding and 2.) as such I should bring her as my date. I mean, Jen usually has such good manners. Certainly this was an oversight. She reads every wedding article and website ever created so she must know that the Best Man and Maid of Honor get carte blanche. Did she really think that I would bring my sister to the rehearsal dinner with me?

I told Shana about the email I had just received and her response was, "Well that's fucked up. You're the Maid of Honor."

That night Jen and I had a conversation about it. Itold her how displeased I was and that how she knows my sister and how Shana and my entire family host Jen whenever she comes to town. What really got me, however, was that she invited two college friends that she rarely speaks to anymore (for example this is how much she doesn't talk to them: when I'd mention to her that I talked to one of these two people her response was always, "Oh man I haven't talked to them in forever. I need to call them." ) so don't tell me that you couldn't invite close friends and family but that you invited these two people with dates. And that you just invited them with dates because "they live with their significant other".

You invited 198 people to your wedding. I'm your Maid of Honor. There are some things that you just DO. So FIGURE IT OUT.

I thought I was Ok with it. I really did. I tried to let it go. But I really couldn't. I was just really mad about it and pissed off at her. It felt like I was just in this role as her friend until she got married and then after the "I Do's" I'd never see her again (mainly because her fiance hates me, but we'll get to that later).

She and I finally talked two weeks later. I texted her and asked her if she could move up her weekend to come here for her visit. She was supposed to come to Boston for my birthday weekend. We were going to party and have fun and do a little wedding stuff on the side. It quickly turned into me running around from Newbury Street to Natick for her appointments and I just really didn't want to do all of that on my birthday. Plus I found out that it was my cousin's First Communion that weekend and it was just all around bad timing.

"Do you mind changing your flight?" I asked her over the phone.

"Well I would, but it's $150 to change it."

"Jen, I'll pay for it."

(pause, pause)

"Well I think that I just won't come at all."

"Jen, you can come. But if you do, you're going to be staying at my apartment. With my sister."

"Yes well I know I'll be staying with you and your sister because you live with your sister."

Oh, well excuuuuuse me. Not all of us live with our boyfriends.

The conversation quickly escalated into "Do you even want to still be my Maid of Honor?" I responded without even a moment's hesitation, "No. I don't." I realized that this was something she was not going to bend for. I am super close with my sister and she knows that. Furthermore she knows Shana and hangs out with her when she comes to Boston. I don't hold grudges but I knew I couldn't get past it. You always hear stories about people in weddings who just do whatever because "ya kinda have to." I wasn't doing this.

We ended our talk with a "good luck" and that was that. I was no longer in the wedding.

Now, before you go and get all judgmental on me and start gasping, "Oh my God I can't believe she blogged about this!" You should know that I was not going to. This was one thing I was going to leave untouched. My opinion quickly changed when, last week, I received a hand written note in the mail from the Bride uninviting me to her wedding (Uhh...like I was going to go) and ending our friendship.

"At first I was disappointed when you said you didn't want to be my Maid of Honor but now I know that I am making the right choice by moving forward with my wedding to the man that I love."

Ok fine. You're entitled to your wedding to the man that you love *PAUSE* who, by the way is a clown and has disliked me since day one. Literally. He actually told Jen that I was a bad influence on her and I really think that when I went there for visits he had a tracking device on her at all times along with a nanny cam in the room where I stayed. The one thing I'm happy about is that I don't ever have to see his mug again. God, this feels so good to say. I haven't been able to stand him for so long and now I don't have to hide it any more!!! *PLAY*  but don't write me a note in your best prose and end our friendship. Grow a set of balls and pick up the phone.

She sent my parents a letter uninviting them to the wedding too. Again, like they would have gone! Could you imagine?! The Donna and Beast just show up at her wedding and are like "HEEEEY!! WE'RE HERE FOR THE BIG DAY!!!"

Please.

Her letter eneded with a "I wish you nothing but health and happiness," and then she signed it Best Regards.

I guess it really shows how much you've meant to someone when they won't even fight for you and then end your friendship with a letter and a Best Regards to boot. It's her I feel bad for because she lost such a good friend and she knows it. But I guess a good friend doesn't matter when you're marrying the man that you love right?

Nothing but health and happiness for the bride.

Best regards,
Lisa

Airport Observations...the best kind.

So I was in Baltimore this past weekend visiting Zing, the bride-to-be. Considering her wedding was planned a week after she got engaged there really isn't that much left to do on her end. Basically it now comes down to me to plan the party stuff. Which I'm completely cool with and quite frankly can't wait to get down to business!

The weekend actually isn't what I'm blogging about. We had fun. We shopped and I punished H&M. Jen got me up at 8:30 this morning which was lovely considering our 1a.m. lights out. It was relaxing and low-key and as my sister said, "I think its nice that you and Jen visit each other." So there you go.

What I am going to comment on are my two flights.

Boston to Baltimore

Now. When I travel I am not really a carry-on type of gal. I usually check my luggage. Not because I can't fit 3oz bottles into a zip lock bag the size of a coaster but because I am that person who brings her entire wardrobe with her. Or should I say USED to be that person. That's right folks. I actually brought a carry on suitcase for my entire weekend in Bmore.

My flight was scheduled to take off at 4:30 on Friday and at noon I found out that it was delayed by one hour. So everything got moved to 5:30. No problem. I arrived at Logan and began my walk down to the Air Tran terminal. But not before totally wiping out in the middle of the United Air ticketing counter. Oh yeah. I totally ate it as I was trying to walk in my very smart outfit with my very smart boots and my carry on luggage. I landed in a sort of kneeling position so if one were to look at me it would appear as if I was about to propose to someone. As I hoisted myself up off the floor, right knee throbbing, I realized that no one came over to see if I was OK. Some touristy woman hollered, "YA ALRIGHT??" but that was it. Where's the sympathy? Where, I ask, is the love? DON'T THEY KNOW WHO I AM??!!!

I continued to security. I handed the guy my boarding pass and ID. He regarded it for a second and then his squirrelly looking cohort came over and took my license in his hand.

"Oh look. It's Lisa."

Uuuuuh...

The squirrelly one then continued, "Born in 1981!" he exclaimed while shoving my ID in the other guys face.

"Um. Yup. That's me."

The original security guy I handed my boarding pass over to then looked at the cohort and said, "Yup. That's her," and handed me back my pass and ID.

Odd. I didn't know whether to stay where I was and let TSA drag me away or to just continue. Obviously I continued.

I proceeded on up to my gate where there was no where to sit. Sweet. This flight was going to be packed tighter than a crabs asshole. I squeezed between a man who looked like the Unibomber and another dude who looked like A-Rod's really ugly brother. And it always amazes me how miserable people are when their flight is delayed. It really shows how little you travel when you flip the fuck out because your flight is delayed a half an hour.

Try being delayed for four hours at Logan waiting for a flight to take you to the most awful place on earth (Las Vegas). A half hour is a cake walk.

This is where the Carry On vs. Checked Luggage debate comes in.

The classy Air Tran boards by Zone and I was in Zone 6; the second to last row to board. Now mind you I am not a seasoned carry-on traveler so I didn't realize that once I got on the plane there would be no where for me to put my luggage. What is wrong with people?! Do they find it necessary to put their jacket up in the overhead? Put it on your lap you idiot. And what's with the luggage all willy-nilly?? I had to physically remove the contents of the overhead, two rows down from me to fit my bag and the rest of the belongings in there.

The upside of my flight there was that I was seated next to a really really skinny girl who slept the entire time and shellacked herself to the window.  So I was free to  wave my arms and legs around like a  wild Octopus. 

Oh and I did notice that the guy sitting in the row that had my luggage was super hot. Married but hot none the less and we kept making eyes. When we landed I gave him my best smile and said, "Can you do me a favor?"

He inched forward like I was going to ask for his number, or if he was really.

"Can you grab my bag? The red one on the right. Thanks."

Baltimore to Boston

Well my flight started off being a half hour delayed. Meh. No problem. I was really OK with it because it allowed me to hang out with Jen longer and watch  "My Big Redneck Wedding" on CMT.

After arriving at BWI and pulling up a prime spot on the floor I began to people watch: a cute guy sitting on his luggage, two couples who were on the plane with me coming down here, heading back to Boston, the creepy guy who walked around with just a book and no other belongings.

Then the guy announced that our inbound air craft had landed and we'd be leaving on time. *Yahooooo!!!*

I meandered my way up to the front. I had the unfortunate luck of being in Zone 6 again and I was not succumbing to the same dubious bag fate that I did on the flight down here. I was going to be a renegade. I was going to sneak on early and with three carry-ons to boot!

"Ladies and gentleman I have some unfortunate news. Due to weather Boston is only landing planes on one runway so we won't be taking off until at least 7p.m. tonight."

Sweet. I went to Hudson News and got some pretzels and rag mags and posted up at the terminal next to a blind girl.

Can I just say how annoying high school kids are? Like, goddamn they are so effing annoying! The don't shut up, they're loud and they snap their gum with such ferocity you'd think they were training for Beijing '08. (I know I have some HS readers out there. Please don't be offended, but maybe take what this older sage has to say and think about it. Us foggies need our quite time.)

As many of my friends know, when I am severely displeased with someone or something I stare and I give a look that is indescribable (if I had a camera phone I'd take a pic for you. But let's not bring that up.). In any case I was giving these teens the stink eye big time. But it didn't stop one of them from coming up to me and asking me if I wanted to play spoons.

"Huh?"

"Spoons! You wanna play?" She stared me eagerly, her double pierced ears and slight acne urging me to play what I'm sure was once a game for the times when we did not have electricity.

"No. I don't want to play spoons. But thanks." I went back to tapping away on my non-camera phoned Blackberry. Shockingly enough the game was fucking annoying and I had to move with all of my luggage to another area of the terminal. Thank god we boarded shortly after. Boston had decided to let us poor plebs in Baltimore get home. Weather and gale-force winds be damned.

So my boarding goes a little something like this: The guy called Zones 2 & 3. Me being the stealthy ninja I am, slide in line, and covered up the Zone on my ticket with my finger. He scanned it and off I went. Holler. Plenty of carry-on space to spare. Except. Oh dear. My luggage won't fit. It's bowing out too much.

Fuck.

The girl behind me is trying to help me but I just kind of bark at her to go by. I try to wedge my suitcase up above but it's not happening. In my rage I sort of shout out, "IT FIT ON THE WAY DOWN!!!" to no one in particular.

I yank it back out and in doing so take a HUGE chunk of skin out of my right pinkie.

"AAAARMMMMMMMMASDLALDJKSFLFKJALDFJSDFJRRRRGHHHHHHHOUCH!!"

My hand was seriously dripping blood. Again. No one was concerned that I was staining the cabin with my own blood.

Somehow I got the suitcase to fit and I plopped down. No sooner had I taken my seat that my row companion shuffled along. A woman in her mid-60's who waggled her finger at me alerting me to the fact that I needed to get up so she could get to her window seat.

She shimmied her way in and started to blow up her balloon pillow.

Honestly. It's a 55 minute flight. You really need your pillow for this? God some people are just so not hardcore.

The final piece in our row 20 jig-saw puzzle arrived. A tall German dude. Poor guy. Had to sit in the middle seat. If I didn't hate my arms so much I might have switched with him but that's what you get for not changing your seat online.

My finger hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Even with the Band-Aid and Neosporin I wrapped it in. (Yeah. I carry those things with me. So If you ever pinch your pinkie you know who to call.)

We prepared for take off. Now here's something I realized recently about myself. I pass the fuck OUT during take off. I don't know what it is but I am like a coma patient the second that plan starts to back away from the gate and it doesn't matter the time of day.  Unfortunately my body is not aware that I have people directly next to me so I'm totally the person who's legs encroach on your already limited personal plane space. Or you'll look over and my mouth will be hanging wide open as I mouth breath on you.

Sorry.

In any case the German wasn't that thrilled about me being his row mate since I basically was salivating on him. But he got his revenge via annoying row woman sitting by the window.

You know how people read magazines and they flip the pages to get to the next part of the story? Yeah, this woman was basically the volleyball player of magazine reading. She'd lick her finger, serve the page up with a little push, sort of like what a volley ball player does during a serve, and then she'd THWACK it over, much like the server does to get the ball over the net. The noise was so intense and so loud and it literally sounded like grenades were being launched at my head.

*swish* *SWACK!*
*swish* *SWACK!*
*swish*.......(oh I think I'll read this article for a bit) *SWACK!!!*

And she was reading the SkyMall Magazine. Like that periodical that they keep on planes in case you feel like purchasing a recliner at 34,000 feet. She read the thing like front to back four times. I tried giving her the stink eye too but she had on the Bose-noise control-spaceship-400 horse power-built Ford tough-as expensive as a down payment on a house-headphones so nothing was getting to her.

After a bumpy ride and a few wobbly-wobblerson's mid-air, we finally landed and I was prepared to jump out of my seat and get my luggage first. But not before the old lady next to me shoved me back into my seat so she could retrieve her attache case. I elbowed granny and finally was able to stand up straight. I had on my new faux emerald ring from Forever 21. The woman who was sitting behind me goes, "Oh your ring is LOVELY! What....what stone is that?"

I looked at her and said, "Fake."

Honestly. Yes, from far away it looks like an Emerald but do you really think I'm wearing an Emerald ring the size of a dinner plate on Air Tran? In coach?

Come on.

The time finally came for me to grab my carry-on.

Oh dear. It was stuck. Uuuuh....I tugged a little harder at it. It wasn't moving.

Great. People were starting to get aggravated and I started to sweat. Damn it. I looked at the German who was not about to offer any help.

Prick.

Finally I got it out. I sat it down in the aisle so I could rearrange my other carry-ons. In doing so my suitcase fell backwards and landed on the German, who made no attempt to pick it up for me.

I reached down to grab my bag and then looked the German in the eye. "Thanks for the help, but really. I got it." And sped off.

I don't really understand why I don't qualify for the damsel in distress assistance from people. I see other girls who drop their lip gloss and someone is right there to get it for them. I fall on my face, sever my pinkie off and nearly rip the door to the overhead off and no one bats and eye lash.

Until my next flight...

MOH in t-minus 366 days!! (leap year this year)

Holy *GAH*!!!!!!

The Bride has informed me that exactly one year from this date, NOVEMBER 15TH, she will be getting married, which means that exactly one year from this date I am the MOH.

I realize that the focus should be on her and that she's getting married but here at YGIU.com it's all about me :)

So the good news is that she found her dress (hooray) and that means that we will not have to be attending the running of the brides at Filene's Basement in Downtown Crossing. Honestly, love you long time Zing but that had me a little stressed out. I don't think of myself as someone who would physically hurt another human being on purpose but I had visions of elbows flying and hair pulling (not in the good way). I probably would have gotten a pair of brass knuckles custom made with MOH on them. (OMG I kinda want those now...)

The second round of good news is that the bridesmaid dress she picked out is NOT UGLY!!! It's actually gorg-O!!! Not that I think Zing would ever pick something HEIN-O but you'd be surprised at what some people will choose for their maids to wear while waltzing down the aisle.

For example:

I'm getting a tan from the glare alone. And breaking out into hives.

There are no words for the Pepto-Bismol nightmare above....

Oh are you getting married on the 4th of July?? Well here you go!

Seriously. I just projectile vomited everywhere. *shudder*

So now I know my dress is fab-U and I can start working on my arms. What? Everyone's got their thing.

Stay tuned for more MOH news! Now that we are within a year things will start getting cranked out!

Xx

1st attempt at trying on wedding dresses: An MOH post

Big doings last weekend. Zing (THE Bride) came up for a whirlwind weekend and tried on dresses for the very first time! *GAH!!*

Obviously this is Zing's first engagement so she's never done the wedding dress thing before. Although she has a wedding binder that would put any wedding planner to shame. So Zing had an idea of the type of dress she wanted we just needed to start somewhere.

We decided to head to David's Bridal in Attleboro; on Route 1, down the street from the Emerald Square Mall (holler 8th grade!!) I mean..I know it's ghetto and next to a Newbury Comics but we had to start somewhere so we made an appointment.

Our bridal assistant, Evelyn (nice lady but awful, AWFUL, panty lines) grabbed a slew of dresses Zing had picked out and tucked us into a nice little corner.

In case anyone was wondering, I did not try on any MOH dresses. I was feeling puffy and my hair was dirty.

So, needless to say, Zing wasn't really feeling any of the dresses. I mean, not that I was all that surprised. But she tried on about eight gowns and in the middle of one of the fittings two girls walked back to our area. Immediately I bristled. This was our space. And one of them was wearing clogs.

We ignored them for a while. But then the other bride came out wearing a dress that looked like a venti cappuccino. She wasn't petite, she was tall and had some meat on her and the ruching at her waist did nothing for her. The friend she was with, who was an annoying human, kept saying that the dress looked "amazing" on her. Never one to hide my emotions I balked at the "amazing" comment and said, "Um...you should try an A-line dress."

A friendship was born.

Zing and I hung out at David's Bridal a full hour and a half after we were done trying on dresses to give our comments to the other bride, who clearly needed some sort of guidance. The only person she had giving her advice was that one friend who thinks you look "amazing" no matter what. Like, you could walk out of the house with pegged pants, a sequined halter top, a banana clip and Jimmy Choo's on and the friend would be like, "OMG. I LOVE your shoes!"

Our services were needed.

The dress this girl ended up liking the best was a halter-top dress. Now, I have such a hard time with halter-tops. I mean, it's a halter-top (read: sorta trashy IMHO). I just mean that when I ev-er get married I will not be rocking something that is popular with the tweens.

But she liked it. And I was there to support her (even though I didn't know her from a ham sandwhich) and besides the fact that it was a (*gah*) halter top, it did look pretty on her. So I said to her, "The dress is really pretty. But you need to wear your hair up."

She reared around to me, all 6' of her, on that bridal podium and said, "Oh no. I have to wear my hair down. Or half up half down. I'm the fattest I've ever been, and my face is really round and I'm self-conscious about it. I have to wear it down. Or half up half down."

Uh. Ok.

Then she came over to us and shoved her ring in Zing's face. "Soooo what are you going to do about your band? I mean our rings are kind of similar. Are you going to wear your band on your left hand? I think I have to wear my engagement ring on my right hand and my wedding ring on my left hand. What do you think?"

(My head is spinning even as I write this)

"Um. Well my ring sits a little higher than yours so I can probably fit a band there."

"Yeah..."

Then the friend chimed in, who, I have to say was rocking a SERIOUS camera. Like one of those professional Nikon ones, "I just love my ring! I mean, it's rose gold but I love it."

I stood up and peered at her ring....wait...is that a...is that diamond a...

"It's a heart..." she said smiling down at her left hand.

I couldn't believe it. I'd seen heart shaped engagement rings in the ads for Belden Jewelers but I never thought they were real. I thought they were some kind of urban engagement ring myth.

I smiled and said, "Well your wedding ring is really pretty." Which it was.

We came to the end of the dress trying on. And the four of us and Evelyn were just kind of hanging out, surrounded by plastic wedding dress bags and petticoats.

The other bride asked Zing where she met her fiance and Zing told her. I was just about to chime in and ask where she met her fiance when Zing beat me to it.

"We actually met online (I KNEW IT!) but not with like match.com or anything like that. I actually do online role playing games, like Dungeons & Dragons (um...pardon?) and one night I was having a really hard time killing this one character so I just typed up an email asking for help and this one guy answered and helped me. Then we exchanged email addresses and one day I was having a bad day so he asked if I wanted to talk on the phone so I said yes. Then on the phone one day he asked if we wanted to meet up. Now he lives in New Zealand..."

"Wait. What?" Jen and I said.

"Yeah he lives in New Zealand. So he asked me if I wanted to come visit. He obviously lives there so I'd have a place to stay. I was having a really tough time at work and I had a lot of vacation stored up so I booked my trip there! He picked me up at the airport and it was instant."

"S...so.....um...so how long have you two known each other?"

"A little over a year."

"Oh woooooooooooooooooow and you're already engaged. So you two are like living together and all ready to get married?"

"Oh no. he's still in New Zealand. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) We put in for his visa but who knows. It's up to the government now. We booked the wedding for Fall of 2008 so hopefully it goes through by then!"

Now, this girl was not a hobbit. It's not like she had to marry this guy because no one would have her. And I'm all about the fact that there's a cover for every tea kettle, but I mean, a cover that's half way around the world? Who you met because he was trying to help you kill Lord Thor in level 8 of Wizards and Warlocks????

I don't even have friends I know that well after hanging out with them for a year and a half. I just learned that one of my best friend was born without fingernails and toe nails because she was a preemie! And we met 4 years ago! Things take time.

Anyway, we all walked out of the David's Bridal shop together as they were vacuuming the rugs. Arm in arm (not really) we laughed at the fun we had and walked to our cars. As Zing and I were about to throw it into reverse the friend of the other bride came running (literally) over to The Rollerskate. I rolled down the window and she said to Zing, "My friend is really shy. She wants your business card so you two can exchange dress ideas."

It goes without saying that Dungeons & Dragons and my Zing will not be sharing dress ideas if this MOH has anything to say about it.

Introducing the MOH

As I recently reported during my last vacation in early September, my best friend Jen Katz got engaged to her boyfriend Nate over the Labor Day weekend. It is so exciting and as a Shiksa, I cannot wait for the kosher and dairy-free festivities to begin!

With that being said, Jen has asked me to be her Maid of Honor (here-to-fore to be referred to as MOH). I gotta tell you guys, the way she did it was just lovely. I was in New York early this week at a trade show and my phone chirped with a text message:

Jen: Are you in New York Still?

Me: Yes

Jen: When are you home?

Me: Tomorrow

Jen: Are you going to be in the office?

Me: Yes.

Jen: Ok. There is a package waiting for you.

Me: K

Jen: There is a dog on my flight

Me: You'll be fine.

Basic gist.

So I got into work yesterday at 8:43 and sure enough there on my desk was a package from Zing. I opened it up and inside was a gorgeous wooden box. Inside the box were faux rose petals and cards entitled Open me First, Second, Third...etc. With seven cards total. 

On each card was a photo of the two of us with her handwriting with things saying "Because you're my best friend....Because you care about me....Because you're hilarious and always right..."

And on the last card she asked if I would be her MOH.

I broke down and started to cry. For two reasons: 1.) I was honored that she asked and 2.) The way she asked was just so thoughtful! I'd probably send a mass text out and whoever answered first would get it (kidding Shana).

I picked up the phone and called her right away.

Groggy voiced Jen answers the phone: "Hello...?"

MOH: "JEN! JEN! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMOMGOGMOMGOMG!!! I GOT YOUR BOX! IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL! OF COURSEI'LLBEYOURMOHAAAAAAAAAADSFJALSDFJLFJSDFJLSJLSDFJLSFJLSDFJSLDFJSALFJ."

Jen: "Ok. Yay!"

MOH: "Wait....are you sleeping?"

Jen: "I'm in Arizona."

MOH: "Oh shit."  (time difference and all..)

First duty as MOH: The bride is awoken at 6am to my neurotic OMG chanting.

My second duty as the MOH occurred today. I met the future groom, the mother of the groom and my partner in crime, the best man, to look at venues.

Let's see. I was late to the first meeting due to a packaging crisis that came across my desk at 2:15 and  was late to the second meeting due to the traffic going onto 93S from Purchase Street. Oh and when I finally made it to the second location I almost hit a mother and her two kids pulling an illegal U-turn. I scared the little girl so much that as she scuttled to miss the gaping hole on the front of the Rollerskate, her ice cream scoop fell out of her cone.

Honestly though, the mother started cussing me out and waving her fists at me. Is that really the role model you want to be for your children?

So this is my latest undertaking guys! I'm tres excited to be the MOH. I've never had this opportunity before and quite frankly today made me even more pumped to do it. I mean planning up-dos and picking out dresses?!!? This is what I'm made for.

Stay tuned for more MOH updates.