Friday, November 23, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
speed wedding attending
So over the summer I was on the train on my way to have dinner with husband in Rouen. Checking my phone to see what time it was I noticed that husband had called me. Five times. I called him back.
Me: Hello?
Him: We’ve mistaken the date of the wedding!!!!!!!
Me: Huh?
Him: The wedding of my good friends we thought was next week. It’s TODAY.
Me: [You mean YOU thought] Oh.
Him: What do we do????
Me: Well what time is the ceremony?
Him: We already missed it.
Me: Oh. What time does the reception start?
Him: It’s already started.
Me: Oh. Well what haven’t we missed?
Him: Dinner.
Me: What time does that start?
Him: In one hour. How are you dressed?
Me: [Looking down at my tights and uggs]. Um. Maybe you can call your mom to see if there’s anything suitable at your parents house.
Him: Ok.
My train pulled into the station about 10 minutes later where frantic husband was waiting for me to tell me that his mom found a skirt and suit jacket that might work. But she didn’t find shoes.
I had a plan B and that was to run through the streets of Rouen looking for the H&M which was the only store in Paris I knew of that didn’t close at 7. When husband told his mom about our plan, she told us our only chance was Carrefour, the equivalent of a French Walmart;
So we raced back to the car and speed to Carrefour where I ran through the store trying to find a dress and shoes with the following 2 criteria in mind:
1. Size 35
2. Doesn’t scream “I bought this dress and shoes at French Walmart in under 5 minutes for your wedding!!”
We arrived at the reception, me wearing said dress and shoes feeling a bit carsick because husband had driven like a madman to be less late. But I had to recover quickly as to be on my A game to face the bride and groom.
Apparently word had spread because we were greeted by most people with “You guys forgot?” which I quickly corrected as us not forgetting but merely getting the date wrong (which to me is like manslaughter vs first degree murder). The bride and groom were gracious in welcoming us despite the major faux pas and we integrated ourselves into the evening rather seamlessly.
.
Just when I began to congratulate myself on getting through the crazy day rather well, I started to feel really nauseous around when the dancing began. I don’t know if it was the combination of some leftover carsickness, something I ate a dinner, strobe lighting and euro techno but all of a sudden all my body wanted to do was to throw up on the nicely decorated table. But I would not, NOT add “puke all over the table” to the list of things I would make this bride endure on her wedding day so I did the only thing I could do.
I ran out and puked in the parking lot all over my new French Walmart shoes.
Me: Hello?
Him: We’ve mistaken the date of the wedding!!!!!!!
Me: Huh?
Him: The wedding of my good friends we thought was next week. It’s TODAY.
Me: [You mean YOU thought] Oh.
Him: What do we do????
Me: Well what time is the ceremony?
Him: We already missed it.
Me: Oh. What time does the reception start?
Him: It’s already started.
Me: Oh. Well what haven’t we missed?
Him: Dinner.
Me: What time does that start?
Him: In one hour. How are you dressed?
Me: [Looking down at my tights and uggs]. Um. Maybe you can call your mom to see if there’s anything suitable at your parents house.
Him: Ok.
My train pulled into the station about 10 minutes later where frantic husband was waiting for me to tell me that his mom found a skirt and suit jacket that might work. But she didn’t find shoes.
I had a plan B and that was to run through the streets of Rouen looking for the H&M which was the only store in Paris I knew of that didn’t close at 7. When husband told his mom about our plan, she told us our only chance was Carrefour, the equivalent of a French Walmart;
So we raced back to the car and speed to Carrefour where I ran through the store trying to find a dress and shoes with the following 2 criteria in mind:
1. Size 35
2. Doesn’t scream “I bought this dress and shoes at French Walmart in under 5 minutes for your wedding!!”
We arrived at the reception, me wearing said dress and shoes feeling a bit carsick because husband had driven like a madman to be less late. But I had to recover quickly as to be on my A game to face the bride and groom.
Apparently word had spread because we were greeted by most people with “You guys forgot?” which I quickly corrected as us not forgetting but merely getting the date wrong (which to me is like manslaughter vs first degree murder). The bride and groom were gracious in welcoming us despite the major faux pas and we integrated ourselves into the evening rather seamlessly.
.
Just when I began to congratulate myself on getting through the crazy day rather well, I started to feel really nauseous around when the dancing began. I don’t know if it was the combination of some leftover carsickness, something I ate a dinner, strobe lighting and euro techno but all of a sudden all my body wanted to do was to throw up on the nicely decorated table. But I would not, NOT add “puke all over the table” to the list of things I would make this bride endure on her wedding day so I did the only thing I could do.
I ran out and puked in the parking lot all over my new French Walmart shoes.
Friday, November 16, 2012
living the dream
So it happens that every 5 years or so I get sick of my long hair and go searching for a cute maintenanceless hairdo.
Of couse this doesn't exists but I do it anyways and spend the next 3 months trying to look stylish but not waking up early enough to succeed. The next 9 months are spent with my hair tied back to hide a haircut that was passable short but ridiculous long.
For some reason this year I was more ambitious than ever and thought about getting a pixie cut. When I told this to friends they informed me that not only was styling the haircut obligatory but so was putting on makeup. Failure to do these things would result in looking like a boy, something that has happened to me even with long hair. I saw the wisdom in their words.
So I settled for an inverted bob. Everyone loved it as they always do because styling comes with the cut. I told husband to wait to till the next day to know what he was really going to be living with for the next year.
The next day I got up, washed my hair and air dried it as usual. It didn't look that bad. Kept it's form without any effort. Could it be that this finally I was living the dream? Cute, short, maintenanceless haircut?
I arrived at work Monday morning with hair washed and air-dried as usual. This was the real test. French people are outward judgers.
"Love your hair, you look very Parsienne".
Dreams do come true.
Of couse this doesn't exists but I do it anyways and spend the next 3 months trying to look stylish but not waking up early enough to succeed. The next 9 months are spent with my hair tied back to hide a haircut that was passable short but ridiculous long.
For some reason this year I was more ambitious than ever and thought about getting a pixie cut. When I told this to friends they informed me that not only was styling the haircut obligatory but so was putting on makeup. Failure to do these things would result in looking like a boy, something that has happened to me even with long hair. I saw the wisdom in their words.
So I settled for an inverted bob. Everyone loved it as they always do because styling comes with the cut. I told husband to wait to till the next day to know what he was really going to be living with for the next year.
The next day I got up, washed my hair and air dried it as usual. It didn't look that bad. Kept it's form without any effort. Could it be that this finally I was living the dream? Cute, short, maintenanceless haircut?
I arrived at work Monday morning with hair washed and air-dried as usual. This was the real test. French people are outward judgers.
"Love your hair, you look very Parsienne".
Dreams do come true.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
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