Huh

I've always been pretty bad about death. I mean, I'm afraid of dying, sure. Like, really afraid. But whenever I hear about someone who dies, I'm always embarrassed about my matter-of-face treatment of the news. It's sad. It's tragic. And yet, I can never quite react in a fitting manner.

So Tuesday, I'm on set and someone in production tells me Ed McMahon died. I responded by saying, honestly, "I thought he was dead." I really was like 90% positive that had already happened.

Then this morning, a coworker turned around from her desk and told me Farrah Fawcett died. "Awww," I let out and then just kind of went back to typing an email. I saw (6 minutes of) her documentary on TV about her battle with cancer. It was really sad...but I don't know what I can do.

News of Michael Jackson's death broke out while I was at DQ with a coworker picking up a Reese's peanut butter cup blizzard. When we returned, totally unaware, several people at the office told us of the news at once. I made a face to indicate some level of distress, and then waited for what I thought seemed like an appropriate amount of time before shoving another spoonful of ice cream in my face.

When I got home today, I turned on MTV to watch 16 And Pregnant (because something is wrong me), and instead Sway was hosting a non stop Michael Jackson love fest with music videos and concert footage. I watched for a little while, and yeah it was kind of sad. But, here's the thing, and I'm sure I'm not the only person who has said this: the MJ we all know and love "died" a long long time ago. And since then we've been left with a zombie shell who does things that make everyone pretty freaking uncomfortable.

And when I was a kid I used to love him! So I think my sadness was used up a long time ago. But, I know a person died. I care.

And I don't know what this says about me, but today when I got home, I found that the basil plant I've been frantically nurturing for 2 weeks had shriveled up and died. I groaned and stared at it desperately for a little while. Indeed, I appear to have mourned a plant and not a person.

I'm sorry.

My laptop battery is dying so I'll keep it short

Made it back from our trip in one piece. We nearly got arrested in the airport on the way there, and we (along with several other wedding guests) were accused of ruining South Dakota, whatever that means...

Actually, I do know what that means, sort of. At least I'm pretty sure Devin's not welcome back to the state after his performance at the wedding reception and his speech which the country club management called "the most vulgar thing they'd ever heard."

Not that I'm in a hurry to go back anyway, as I suspect South Dakota is inside a biodome because it doesn't get dark there until 10pm. I'm not exaggerating. What the H is going on?

Lastly, you can smoke in bars there, which just feels feels wrong. So wrong that it feels right. And I couldn't help but enjoy the novelty of the situation by chain smoking like a scary grandmother. My lungs beg me never to return.

For Those Of You Who Might Be Interested

We're now less than 4 months away from the wedding. This is fantastic. And not just because I'm very excited for the big day (and even more excited to go to Hawaii afterwards), but also because I'll be glad to finally shut up about my wedding plans. Honestly, I hear myself yapping away and I think, "Dear god, woman. Stop talking about this at once!"

Aware that not everyone wants to hear every teency weency detail about it, I wait until someone asks me, "How's everything going with the wedding plans?" And then the poor souls are forced to listen to my debate over using an 8 person table versus a 10 person table. About why I'm not going to decorate with flowers and what I'll do as a centerpiece instead. I'll shove invitation samples in their faces and cringe as I hear myself saying "I like the shape and overall design of this one, but with this font, but with white ink. And I prefer this shade of red for the paper over this shade, but it's only offered on this particular design and I just thought the RSVP cards were too much."

WHAT?! How have I turned into this?

I assure you, and I am positive that friends will agree, I have in no way been a bridezilla. In fact, there are a lot of things I just haven't really cared much about. I mostly just want to make decisions as quickly as possible and then move onto the next task. As it stands, I have nearly everything done. Last night, I even made reservations for the rehearsal dinner.

The whole planning process started off really fun. It's been kind of a hobby, more than a chore. At first, I wanted my wedding to be as unique as possible. I didn't want to do anything that anyone else had done in the history of weddings. (A feat I soon learned would be impossible unless I could some how organize a wedding reception on the moon.) As time went on, and I realized everything costs a butt-loving load of money, I switched gears and just looked for the cheapest way to do everything.

But lately, since I have lost all motivation, I just want to throw money at the easiest solution.

I think all of my angst is owing to the foolishly long engagement period. I know, 16 months doesn't seem like that long. I sure didn't think it would be when we set the date. But now that a whole year has come and gone I am pulling my hair out. Are we there yet? Are we there yet? ARE WE THERE YET?

Next weekend we'll be going to the wedding of a couple whose entire relationship, from first date to wedding day, has taken place during the 4ish years Devin and I have been together. We also went to a wedding this past October for a couple with the same scenario. And all the while, I'm just over here, figuring out hairstyles and designing centerpiece mockups. When will it be my turn?

Just Embarassin' Myself!

Recently I watched Mike Barbiglia’s stand up comedy special “What I Should Have Said Was Nothing.” The title refers to the many many times he has said something that turned a fairly normal situation into a perfectly awful one. He could have just said nothing and avoided the whole mess.

I wish I’d thought of that clever way to describe my constant run-ins with myself in public places. I hear myself saying something stupid, and somewhere inside my head, there is a much cooler version of myself shouting, “STOP IT! JUST SHUT UP AND GET OUT OF HERE!”

I’ve written about this here, and here, and here (see! it happens a lot!). Yes, I suck at being around other people. But that’s not a catchy way to say it. So, until I think of a creative title for my idiocy, here’s my latest installment of What I Should Have Said Was Nothing:

I was at the grocery store after work, picking up a few things for dinner. Just before heading to the checkout, I remembered we were low on Coke Zero, which I don’t care for but which Devin drinks entirely too much of. And because I’m a wonderful fiancé, I buy him some whenever I’m at the store.

While debating if I should buy 3 2-liter bottles to take advantage of the Vons Club sale, a young couple wandered into the aisle. I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but they looked like the sort of people I typically hate. For some reason, I began to focus all of my attention on them, instead of simply grabbing the bottles of soda and minding my own business.

“Baaaabe,” she whined, “I can’t find any diet root beer.”
“Maybe they don’t have it, babe.”
“I guess…but I want it.”

Now, what I should have said was nothing. And I very nearly stopped myself. I knew that there was in fact diet root beer because I bought it before. And she was actually standing right near it.

Then, I must have thought I would save the day by being helpful, so I marched right over and blerted out, “It’s right there. There is diet root beer!”

Trying to salvage my dignity, I started to immediately walk away.

“Oh…thanks,” said the girl. I couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t lean in to grab the 6 pack I’d pointed to. Somehow my lameness made her want nothing to do with that root beer.

In case you are thinking this interaction isn’t so bad, allow me to tell you what I said next.

“Yeah, no problem. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, but I heard you about the diet root beer. Just listenin’. “

At this point the tiny cool version of me inside my head some how took control and jerked my body so that I turned around and began walking away.

Just listenin’? I said that!

Just listenin, little lady. Didn’t want ya to go without yer sodypop.