I didn’t post yesterday… why? I was way too busy studying all of this scientifical information that didn’t stick in my head, so basically I might as well have just been staring at the walls for 6 hours. Oh brain… pretend you’re actually fascinated with scientific information that you could care less about! At least long enough to get through this class… or to win the lottery on Jeopardy. What is… not gonna happen my friend.
I’ve been weddy-ing it up this spring/summer… and I must say I’ve become quite an expert at getting sunburns. Who puts sunscreen on their back when they’re wearing a shirt? Who!? Tell me!? Because I didn’t… why? Uh… because I was wearing a shirt. A shirt is basically sunscreen in a piece of fabric. But, there so happened to be a stretch of skin on my back between where my hair ended and the shirt top began and it happened to fry into a nice chartreuse-ish mauvish plot of fat blobules. Oh the humanity. I could fry a nice steak on that sucker. I think I’ve learned my lesson… and that would be to bring back the dickey from the 80s/90s. Oh, you know the dickey…
The dickey is for people who want the fashionality of a turtleneck without the addition of the bulky layering factor. It’s also for people who don’t think wearing sunscreen on your back when you’re wearing a shirt already is a smart idea. Oh yeah… get me one in each color and some shoulder pads to match! I’d walk down the street wearing the shoulder pads, dickey, and my rocking horse shoes and I guarantee you fashionista Lindsay and Madre would move to Botswana.
So, lesson learned… wear dickies… sunburns on backs when trying to sleep on your back at night or shower using hot water or wear a shirt is a sad day in Empty Brain Land.
But, back to the weddy-ing. My beautiful cuzzin, Jessica, went behind everyone’s back and grew up into an adult and got married on Saturday! The nerve that she grew up into an adult behind everyone’s back! It was a beautiful wedding in a beautiful location with some beautiful people… and not-a-one of them wore a dickey! Jess asked me to warble my way through a song for her luncheon. They requested George Strait’s I Cross My
Eyes Heart… that was an Uncle Phil joke! **winkwink** So, since I’m no George Strait and the last country thing I did was pick a piece of hay to stick behind my ear, I thought it only proper that I should stain up the only shirt I brought along to wear with my skirt. It was a silky/satiny sort of fabric, so you know how those take to staining… like I decided to take a swim in the salad dressing aisle at the Upchuck-Arama. Lindsay kept pointing it out to everyone who couldn’t see it for themselves (which was no one unless I missed the blind people in attendance), and even asked the photographer during group picture time if she’d mind getting the best angle on the stained shirt. Oh, she gets a kick out of herself.
My apologies to Jessica and Delta for looking like I done just got back from a trek up Mount Kilimanjaro… but, you see… it wasn’t my fault. The lemon water made a hole where my lip used to be and then I sucked it down the wrong tube and immediately started hacking up my small intestine. It was a medical emergency and I lived to tell the tale!
The night before we had a bridal shower hosted by the fabulous Jean and Jessica (not Jessica, the guest of honor… the sister-in-law one).
There she is on the far left! JenJen even came up from New Mexico!
The next morning we arrived early to put together the rustic wedding arch. My job was to mostly try not to touch anything on the actual arch, because I lack in crafting skillz, grace, non-bad luck, and general artsiness… but I did get to hand Lindsay and Madre all of the supplies and be the official cutter of the crafting wire… just so long as I kept my distance from the arch. Chances are I’d have tripped over the wire cutters and the arch would have exploded into a million and twelve fragments.
I don’t know how I didn’t get a better picture of the bride and groom. I think it was because the hole in my lip and the stain on my shirt made brain function near impossible… and/or I was too busy taking pictures of the scenery… people? What are those? They had this cute idea to have a photo booth and you’d glue the pictures from the photo booth into this scrapbook and write your well wishes next to your photos. These clowns showed up…
Lindsay and I decided we look goofy enough without wigs and Mardi Gras paraphrenalia…
My buddy Cruzer was not in a happy mood… or maybe he hated dickies? But he struck some stylish poses anyway.
Move over Garth Brooks!
No, I didn’t eat that cupcake!
And Lindsay even took a 3 second break from making fun of my shirt stains to hang out with my other buddy, Blaize.
It was so fun to see so many family members, some of whom I hadn’t seen in a millenia, and partake in a fun day full of stained-up shirts. Congratulations, Delta and Jessica! Many happy years to come!