Note to self: Never attempt to compose a Maid-of-Honor speech while possibly PMSing. You think crying about long-distance commercials on TV is bad? Not even close. I wrote for about five minutes before I was like, “Nuh uh. This will have to wait for some other day.”
Especially if it’s a speech about the only person I like shopping with, the only friend who can do my hair, and the only girl besides Pamie who’s allowed to hold my hand and drag me to the bathroom to gossip. Basically, Liz brings out the super-girly side in me. Didn’t know I had one, didja?
Girly-ness leads to shit like blogging about PMS and sentimental tears. I need to figure out a way to say how much I love her without running the risk of crying while holding a microphone. I’d practice on you guys, but I need to save my best material.
I would tell you about Wedding Planning Day, but that was really girly. So I’ll just tell you about the night we went clubbing til 3 in the morning:
Liz’s Fiancé is a Jersey boy (or I guess I should say Jersey MAN), which makes me automatically like him. My friends and I were hunting through our purses for the cover charge when Andy5 asked the bouncer, “Where you from, brah?” Turns out he was from Jersey too, so we got in for free AND a hook up at the bar.
Andy5 told me that the club was cool. “It’s where guys from Jersey and New York go so we don’t have to deal with douchebag guys from Florida.” I laughed and said, “Right on.” Then I noticed the “special” room in the back and the extra pole next to the bar. It’s nice to know that they’re equipped for a ho-down. Oh, Jersey.
Kelly and I cried laughing later, when one chick practically fell off the stage trying to be Shakira.
I got hit on all night by a guy named Johnny. He was really nice, but he kept appearing right next to me, proclaiming, “Giiiiiirl, I’m gonna show you what Florida’s ALL ABOUT.”
It got old after about the 20th time, so when I felt him breathing down my neck again, I turned to him and said, “Let me guess. You’re gonna show me what Florida’s all about, right?”
“No,” he pouted, “I just want to smell your hair.” Wow.
There was a birthday girl with a light-up feather tiara, and Liz (a.k.a. The Bride) narrowed her eyes and decided that the crown was rightfully hers. We waited until Birthday Girl passed out and got carried to the back, and then YOINK! It was on.
Eventually Johnny stole it. Then I had to deal with this for about an hour:
Jen told me she likes this picture because of the wide range of human emotion. Andy5 is either trying to protect me or get to the ashtray. I think a Sean Paul song was playing when this picture was taken, which only adds to my look of amusement/sheer terror*.
Later everyone tried to make me dance, and when I refused they sent Johnny over. He tried to do some “sexy dance” with the light-up tiara and accidentally broke it in half. Then he threw the feather part around my neck and held both sides, pulling it back and forth like he was Mae West or something. And then I ran away and everyone grabbed me and threw me on the dance floor. Johnny is like tear gas, except he has a mustache.
2 responses to “Watch Him While He Checks Up On It”
i like his moustache
i looked at the photo first and decided that the one guy was mad that the other guy stole his tiara and you were laughing at the guy for being mad. I was too far off because a theft a tiara happened it sounds like.