Yes, I did say "are you shitting me" in the bridal shop
And no, I wasn't intoxicated. And it's probably not what you think.
So, I'm standing there engulfed in a copper trumpet-style skirt that's about ten feet too long and I'm clutching the matching strapless satin bodice to my chest because it's about ten sizes too small and won't zip up. Swatches of fawn and lagoon and cloud rotate in front of my face (I'm told the lagoon brings out my eyes). My sister, the bride (and also as chatty as the head usher in a Southern Baptist church), discovered that the consultant's boyfriend went to the same college as I did. I said that's cool. I typically don't like playing the name game - especially because more than 30,000 people went to my school and I'm anti-social, so chances are very slim that I know her boyfriend. But my sister prods her to tell me his name. She does. This is where the inappropriate language explodes from my lips.
It turns out I did know her boyfriend...pretty funny.
That night we hit the Houston Rodeo, where, among other things, I saw for the first time an egg/chicken hatch. Well, I really just saw an alien-like claw protruding from the broken shell. It was kinda goopy too. I wanted to stay for the rest of the hatching, but was dragged away to "Goat Mountain" where I saw a somewhat disheveled goat walk toward the fence, turn around and pee.
Then we passed by what seemed to me to be an entirely too crowded petting zoo where a llama was about to sit (not spit) on a group of small children.
After we got to our seats we watched as about 15 large, shiny cows were led onto the dirt BY A RING THROUGH THEIR NOSE. That cannot be comfortable. I was beginning to feel sorry for all the animals.
Good thing the concert started and Cecile told me a lovely story about when one of her friend's made out with Pat Green's violin player in the back of a van.
It was at this point in time that I realized I needed to be really drunk to listen to Pat Green. I was not. We had to locate the nearest drink stand quickly.
Saturday's highlights included a tour of the reception site (a historic home that's in the process of being gutted and renovated) where family friend and architect "Aunt Carol" reprimanded the venue-owner for a construction no-no.
The rest of the day was spent shopping for dresses. I wanted to bang my head against the wall after six hours of shop hopping and failed try-on sessions for the M.O.B. (mother of the bride) dress. But, she finally found one, and it's really quite beautiful.
And, we ordered my dress which ended up being this one in lagoon with a fawn ribbon.
So, I'm standing there engulfed in a copper trumpet-style skirt that's about ten feet too long and I'm clutching the matching strapless satin bodice to my chest because it's about ten sizes too small and won't zip up. Swatches of fawn and lagoon and cloud rotate in front of my face (I'm told the lagoon brings out my eyes). My sister, the bride (and also as chatty as the head usher in a Southern Baptist church), discovered that the consultant's boyfriend went to the same college as I did. I said that's cool. I typically don't like playing the name game - especially because more than 30,000 people went to my school and I'm anti-social, so chances are very slim that I know her boyfriend. But my sister prods her to tell me his name. She does. This is where the inappropriate language explodes from my lips.
It turns out I did know her boyfriend...pretty funny.
That night we hit the Houston Rodeo, where, among other things, I saw for the first time an egg/chicken hatch. Well, I really just saw an alien-like claw protruding from the broken shell. It was kinda goopy too. I wanted to stay for the rest of the hatching, but was dragged away to "Goat Mountain" where I saw a somewhat disheveled goat walk toward the fence, turn around and pee.
Then we passed by what seemed to me to be an entirely too crowded petting zoo where a llama was about to sit (not spit) on a group of small children.
After we got to our seats we watched as about 15 large, shiny cows were led onto the dirt BY A RING THROUGH THEIR NOSE. That cannot be comfortable. I was beginning to feel sorry for all the animals.
Good thing the concert started and Cecile told me a lovely story about when one of her friend's made out with Pat Green's violin player in the back of a van.
It was at this point in time that I realized I needed to be really drunk to listen to Pat Green. I was not. We had to locate the nearest drink stand quickly.
Saturday's highlights included a tour of the reception site (a historic home that's in the process of being gutted and renovated) where family friend and architect "Aunt Carol" reprimanded the venue-owner for a construction no-no.
The rest of the day was spent shopping for dresses. I wanted to bang my head against the wall after six hours of shop hopping and failed try-on sessions for the M.O.B. (mother of the bride) dress. But, she finally found one, and it's really quite beautiful.
And, we ordered my dress which ended up being this one in lagoon with a fawn ribbon.
posted by lauren at 12:42 AM
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