Sunday, July 09, 2006


Like birthday parties, I just want to attend weddings, not plan one. I actually love weddings, the organized effort of food, music and write your name and address at the door are effortlessly enjoyable as a guest. However, the produciton that goes into planning is formidable. To this intimidation, I may have to sit out on sitting down with a florist, planner, baker, tailor, pastor or even worse, a make-up artist who struggles with Asian eyes because she can't find the eyelid to apply the shadow or hair stylist gun-equipped with some kind of freeze-n-shine spray. I can't chose four friends who made the cut, aka the party. I can't create a seating chart because, frankly, the four friends I'm allowed to clad in the same gown will all be up alongside me, leaving it altar-heavy, pew-light. I see newlyweds making their rounds at dinner to every table having to recite the same "can't wait for Bora Bora, haven't slept in three days, it went by so fast" mini-speeches. I would want to eat the filet that I only got to taste-test and I wouldn't want to eat my cake a year later. What a gross tradition. I wouldn't know which dad to ask to walk me down the aisle. I'd rather have a red dress from Vera Wang and white dishes from Crate & Barrel.

I have friends who have expressed the same sentiment yet, in the end, they have cake all over their face. Perhaps, some do it out of appreciation to the ones that stuck by them during the ups and downs of love thus, to that end, the desire to declare love and commitment in front of family and friends. Who knows? It's an idea I might succomb to as well...but it might be minus-guestbook, plus-guest towels...on a remote beach with close friends to serve you mai-tai's at the receiving line.
country air

Returning from his cousin's wedding, it was your traditional lakeside, conga-line, fish or filet, pin-curled bridesmaids, not enough caffeine in the coffee, summer wedding. Followed by a day in his hometown, we spent the weekend in Connecticut.

In the three years I've been here I've changed my mind about zip codes, men, jobs and hair styles. Yet, I've always maintained that I would now and forever be a city person. Time being, I still uphold the declaration however, I do enjoy the country air.

The ease of personal transportation. One main road. One market. One gas station. Waves of hello as you walk through town because you were in the same class. Parents still stay in tune with how the high-school football team is doing who's getting married and who's had kids. First kisses lead to honeymoons and class reunions are every weekend at the local tavern. The only noise is the steady rotary of a lawn mower. Garage doors are left open in trust and only screens are necessary at night allowing summer grass breezes to flow in. Actual blueberry pies sit on window sills and lemons are hand-crushed for refreshment. Dogs are leashlessly trained to stay on the property and hammocks hang still.

Inhaling pine and silence, this city gal slept well.