Pies and Thighs Wedding!!!--The Friday Before.

My dear friend,Michelle, got married on Sunday, March 25th, in Brooklyn. Here is a blog leading up to the big day. It begins with Friday, travel day. More days to come!

Friday, Travel Day. 

I like to spice things up so I did a half drive, half train situation. I stopped for a Happy Meal along the way. This was a terrible idea for my stomach, but I can't remember the last time I had one, and I really enjoyed the pint sized box it came in. Anyhoo, off topic, shocker. So, I'm waiting for the train in New Haven, rockin' my penguin hat, and trying not to stare at no one in particular. I board the train and right away this dude asks if he can sit with me. He immediately proceeds to take out his phone and call five million people. When the conductor comes to take our fare, the dude proceeds to whip out a huge wad of cash.  He then focuses his attention on me, asking if I'll be his bodyguard.  "You want me to be your bodyguard?" I ask. "Well, I mean, I do lift weights. Sure, why not." He then tells me he is a fighter, hence the cash. "A fighter? Like you bet on fights or you are doing the fighting?" Turns out, he does the fighting. He lowers his sunglasses revealing a nasty black eye. His name is Ramon and he has beef with me from the train platform earlier.  "I saw you give me this look." "I gave you a look??" "Yeah, like you was scared or something. You don't remember that?" He asks me. "No, I was just staring off but I'm sorry if I pulled a face. I do tend to roll my eyes a lot and not even realize I'm doing it." After Ramon and I squash our beef, he then proceeds to talk to me for two hours. Ramon is 42 and from Puerto Rico. He has lived in the Bronx, Wisconsin, and currently in Connecticut. He loves fighting more than anything. He knows how to respect the ladies because he has like six sisters. Ramon has a slew of kids himsef, the eldest being a twenty-seven year-old daughter. He switches Sim cards on his phone (because he has two and not everyone can know where he is) and logs onto Facebook to show me pics of all of his kids. Ramon tells me a story about a 21 year-old girl who lives three doors down from his ex and how he tries to help her but doesn't want her to get the wrong idea, because he respects and understands ladies after all. Ramon tries to teach me Spanish, tells me why he decided against enlisting in the army, and then informs me that God put us together. "Not like in that way, but like as a friend way. Like, I saw you and felt a click. That's God!" Ramon got off one stop before me and continued to wave from me on the platform as the train took off. Good times.

My mission when I get off the train is to find Cassie's (Bird, Cash $) work and hang out around there until she gets off at 6. Well, I got there around 5:23, so I spent a good amount of time sketchily loitering outside her building, sitting in a park, and then walking around the block. During this time, I received my test results for the Foundations of Reading MTEL (teacher test, blah!), and thankfully, I passed. That test was no walk in the park. For the first forty minutes I was trying to block the chick next to me out who was talking to herself about law stuff. Anyhoo, since I had time to kill and I passed the test, I figured it'd be fitting to treat myself to a happy hour drink. I'm a pretty straightforward drinker. I don't like to mess around too much, usually sticking to an occasional glass of Cab, perhaps a Heineken, or at times, a Tom Collins. Yet, somehow I'm pointing to a drink entitled "Heaven on Earth" on the menu and saying that I'll have that. WORST IDEA EVER. For one, I haphazardly neglected to check the price. "That'll be eighteen dollars please." Eighteen dollars! For a drink that has beets in it and burns my throat going down! I'm an idiot. "Heaven on Earth" looked like it belonged on a Christmas tree. I was sort of embarrassed to be drinking it. A guy approaches me. "Is this the drink menu? I'm Josh by the way." So smooth, Josh, getting your name in there. Josh and I and some other lady next to us begin talking for a good fifteen minutes or so. Evidently, everyone at the bar is to celebrate Kinky Boots the musical. "The producer's right there. Nice guy. So, you're here for the party too?" "No, I'm here to crash the party," I tell them. Josh is nice enough, and the lady (Maureen? Mel? Lucy?) opened up to me (after he went to mingle more) that she has been single for the past two years and has tried Match.com and everything but is very frustrated. Do I think she should just have a casual hookup? I like how I'm giving this middle aged woman advice after twelve minutes of meeting her.

Cassie finally gets off work and after I encourage Maureen (?) to do her thang, Bird and I are off to BK to meet up with our college friend Cruz. Cruz hangs out with us like once a year, usually meeting us at B.B. King's for a cover band of some sort, most likely involving the Rat Pack. So, we head to this German Beer Garden where I proceed to eat and drink things that will completely mess with my stomach. IBS what what!! Post stomach messin', we head to the Zombie Hut because we are quite interested in seeing what this entails. Well, somehow it is less Zombie (minus a delicious frozen orange thing named "frozen zombie. Well, it's actually terrible initially, but gets better), and more tiki-like. I like tiki-like though. And the jams are pumpin'! I'm talking R. Kelly and Beyonce! So good. Cruz, Cash and I start playing Apples to Apples and this group of friends asks to join us. Being the accommodating ladies that we are, we said but of course.  In order for the group, Dexter, Nathan, Takia, and I didn't catch his name but also nice dude, to join us, they had to ask other people to move. Thankfully, everyone was quite obliging at the Zombie Hut.  So, a rowdy game started. I don't think the newbies really liked our way of playing. We went for the less obvious choices, well, they were obvious to us. For instance, playing "lobster" for "inspirational". Makes total sense. Anyhoo, they were good people despite this. Dexter had a crush on Cruz but she informed him that after a scout, there was no talent in the bar. He was crushed. He tried to talk to me for a minute, and that didn't work out either, so we wrapped up the game and headed for some s'mores. Cassie had been wanting to go to Camp since moving to BK and I had always wanted to go but regrettedly hadn't when I lived there. So, up the street we went, to a place where you can order a s'more plate fully equipped with a mini-fire. Genius. Except, really?...no concern over drunk people playing with fire?! Anyhoo, the s'mores were simply divine. We were all in the can't-stop-dancing phase of our night, so we got low. A guy came over and asked us if we were "coked out Girl Scouts". Cruz took this as a compliment since "aren't people that do coke skinny?", but I informed him that we don't do coke, and we never did Girl Scouts. His name is Tom. His friend's name is Jerry. So, Tom and Jerry start talking to us. Meanwhile, Dexter and his friends have filed into the bar, looking for Cruz to ask for her number. She turns him down again, poor lad, and focuses on Tom and Jerry. As this is all happening, I'm at the DJ booth requesting Taylor Dayne, Three Dog Night, Weezer, and ABC's "Poison Arrow". The DJ's boyfriend is horrified by my song choices. The DJ ends up playing "Tell It To My Heart" but gives me a DJ etiquette lesson aka don't over-request. I feel bad. "Aaah! I know this! I know! I just really got excited!" He tells me it's okay and he hopes my "Gemini guilt" won't get the better of me, referring to a talk we had previously had involving astrology.

Well, after the s'mores were eaten and it was obvious the rest of my requests weren't getting played, Cash and I decided to call it a night. Cruz, meanwhile, stayed behind to chat up Tom and Jerry some more.

Roller skating to conquer fears.

I was in second grade.  It was Laura Brophy's birthday party.  Laura Brophy is the same girl who I would later let borrow my flute and then never returned it.  Laura Brophy is now a  music teacher.  I think I deserve some credit in this. ANYWAY. As I was saying, it was second grade and Laura Brophy held her birthday party at a roller skating rink.  I was terrified. I vividly remember sitting by myself in an adjoining room while everyone else fearlessly skated.

Skate Trainer

Twenty years later, and I decided it was about time to conquer my fears, so when a few friends from work asked if I wanted to go to the United Skates of America with them, I said hell yes.  The lovely ladies I went skating with, Melissa, Rose, and Leslie, brought along their kids, because well, it makes sense to have kids if you're going roller skating.  They graciously said I could share a kid and pretend that I'm helping them when in reality, they're helping me.  Thank god, United Skates have these contraptions called "skate trainers" that you can rent out. I had initially tried to tag along with Melissa's daughter on her skate trainer but I was definitely hindering her skating, so I had to get my own.  My friends kept encouraging me to go "Left! Right! Left! Right!" but I literally could not do it.  All I could do was grip the skate trainer for dear life and try to avoid all of the falling children.  So many causalities!!!  I made it around twice before I had to take a break. I was sweating profusely, arms hurting from relying on the trainer so much.  Melissa tried to help me off, which resulted to me clinging to her and  accidentally half-taking her shirt off.  Good times. I gave up on clinging to her, and decided to just sit down on the floor and crawl off the rink.  A skating referee guy asked if I needed help and I told him no thanks, I'm fine with crawling.  I didn't give up though! I think I made it around the rink eight or so more times (granted, with the trainer), before I put myself in charge of getting sodas. A couple of the other kids were also discouraged from falls, but most of them seemed to have already graduated from their trainers to flying solo.  Good for them!!

Going nowhere fast!

Take note: our feet are basically on the ground.

After all of the falls and sweat, we decided to try out the rock climbing wall. NOT EASY, folks.  Melissa and I blame the fact that we attempted the climb in our socks (our shoes were in our lockers, which we somehow managed to lose over $5.00 each on because we don't understand how to use lockers), for getting nowhere. All of the children reached higher heights than us. No biggie, haha.

Despite the fact that there was lots of perspiring, relying on a trainer, and climbing nowhere, I'm actually quite glad I went because I did it! I conquered a fear! Next up: biking!!

Silver Linings Playbook, Part Three.

Alright, so I just got in from watching The Silver Linings Playbook for the third time.  I'm sort of a big fan.  I believe the only other movies that I have seen multiple times in the theater are the following: Titanic (I was like twelve), The Departed (Go Boston!), and Midnight in Paris (so much whimsy!).

The first time I saw Silver Linings Playbook, I was walking in Brooklyn Heights with my dear friend Bird (has knock knees like Big Bird).  We were walking on Pineapple Lane (delicious) and there was a veterinarian clinic (I heart animals), and an apartment with fantastic gaslights outside of it (stellar). I was like, holla, this is the life.  Maybe one day I'll live on Pineapple Lane in that gaslight apartment and have a cat. And then we saw the movie and I was like damn, that's a good movie.

I saw it exactly two days later with my mom. This time in a strip mall in a small Massachusetts town.  I still loved it.

I then proceeded to read the book, which I enjoyed, but it was somehow not as good as the movie which is totally rare I feel.  The best part of the book, in my opinion, is the following passage, from the chapter, "I Fear Him More Than Any Other Human Being":

But he takes a deep breath and his soprano sax starts to sing the bright notes of "Songbird"....Kenny G's hips are swaying right before my eyes-with every brain jolt I'm yelling, "Stop! Stop! Stop!"-the end of his instrument is in my face, pounding me with smooth jazz..." 

Pounding me with smooth jazz??? Amazing. Plus, Kenny G has always kind of freaked me out too so I can relate.

Anyway.

Tonight, after taking some barre/meditation class, my friend Michaela and I met at a place called UnWINEd in the mall. It's a wine bar. Get it? UnWINEd??? And yeah, it's in the mall? What?

The place is kind of ridiculous. I mean, who drinks wine in the mall?? And there is like an older dude there playing a guitar which is strange, because really, where are we?! Then again, once I walked into the Rite Aid in town and there was someone playing a piano.  I kid you not.

Anyhoo.  So, two glasses of Cabernet later and we're going across the street to the movies in yet another, strip mall. Oh, America, you and your strip malls.

The cars are parked crazily, mainly in non-spots, as is often the case at this joint.  Yet, no one is there when we walk in.  Literally, no one. Like, we got in for free.

So, we are pretty stoked about this, duh, and then the movie begins. And I love it, again.

Now, it's a pretty amazing movie and it's funny but not like dumb funny, but rather smart funny, and it is hopeful and insightful, and makes you feel good and stuff.  But, another good thing about the movie is that it has definitely made me less judgmental when it comes to guys. Well, maybe.

Here's the deal.  I like one guy like every five years.  Random taste, but generally the guy does not wear khaki pants or football jerseys (and I like football! but, still...). And here is Bradley Cooper, wearing khaki pants WITH a football jersey in a GOOD scene, because mainly he is wearing a trash bag (yes, a trash bag) throughout the entire movie. And, he is bipolar. Yet, he is totally amazing.

So, now, thank you Bradley Cooper, maybe I will give guys that wear trash bags, khaki pants, football jerseys, and are bipolar more of a chance.

And also, the movie is really, really good. Believe me, I wasn't even into Bradley Cooper before this, so I guess in a sense, thank you movie for making me more open to Bradley Cooper. Maybe if I ran into him on the street I'd give him a chance now...or something...

And! When we left the theater, there was a cute bunny munching on dead grass on the outskirts of the parking lot.  That's gotta be a good sign, right?! A silver lining, if you will??

Anyway, go see the movie.

The end.

My Dad Listening to the Radio.

My sister had her birthday the other day. Naturally, we, as a family, went to a bar with a band who covers Sinatra songs.  Thankfully, it was crowded and therefore the singer was out of view, because he looked nothing like Frank, poor chap. It was extremely loud and no one could make conversation so we all resorted to texting throughout the meal. Thank goodness, my parents got with the 20th Century a few years ago. Their thumbs were moving faster than a speeding bullet throughout the night.  

After eating too much and getting serenaded by Frank, it was time to leave.

The car ride home.

Dad, in control of the radio, blasts Fat Joe.

"I really like this song." he says.

He turns up the music.

After song ends, he flips through the stations.  He stops on Pink for a few seconds.  "Pink!" he exclaims, humming along.

Then he fumbles through the stations again, stopping on the Black Eyed Peas. "Fergie, huh. Doesn't your mom not like her?" he asks my my mom, his wife. How does my Gma know who Fergie is? How does my Dad recognize her voice on the radio. Then again, this is the same guy, who announced that "Hips Don't Lie" is his favorite song when it came on in a Brooklyn bodega once. He was super jazzed.

He barely stops on the song though. "I'm really just trying to find the Lumineers. They're so hot right now." Yes, my Dad knows who the Lumineers are. What?! In fact, he came home the other day singing their song and claiming that they're the next big thing. Alright....He also knows more about the Kardashians and what's going on with each Mob Wife than I ever will...

More fumbling.  "Adele...She really is full of angst." he muses. 

In other news, my mom recently went out and bought the new Bruno Mars cd. 

Do I have the hippest parents ever? Quite possibly...

Also...

This dude looks nothing like Frank Sinatra (plus, the quality of this picture is terrible and I am obviously not a photographer):  

Fake Frank: sounds good, looks a hot mess.

But, these guys meanwhile:

Punx Phil. messing with us?!

As I was brushing more snow off of my car this morning, it dawned on me that Punx Phil was totally messing with us. Early spring, my ass. I can't actually blame him though. I mean, can you imagine being in a deep sleep and then being rudely awakened?! And it's not like, your family member or friend who is waking you up in a semi-nice way (which is still annoying), but like some random dude and there are a slew of people watching and cameras flashing in your face?! I mean, that sucks. It takes me quite awhile to fall asleep so I'm especially sympathetic. Plus, there's the idea that he's let himself go. Who wants to be captured with bed head, after gaining a few? Dude is probably like, "I'm 30 lbs heavier than I was in September and haven't properly groomed in months. I'm gonna mess with these bastards." Of course, we could give Punx Phil the benefit of the doubt-maybe he was just so taken aback by being stirred awake that he didn't intentionally screw up the weather forecast.  Either way, I'm in full support of this fine, fury fellow. And hot damn, he does look dapper in that hat! But please, spring, come back!!

http://www.weather.com/weather/5-day/Boston+MA+USMA0046:1:US

Let's Get Physical!!

8:45 am this morning: annual trip to the doc's. I know that I am a very large wimp when it comes to these trips. I hate being touched, I shudder at needles, and I pass out at blood tests. Seriously, I'm the nearly thirty year-old who wakes up to smelling salts and a juice box after getting blood drawn. I remembered to bring reading material for once, but somehow they called me in for the pre-checkup portion only five minutes after being there. I was eased into the whole sha-bang by getting weighed and measured, and good news!, I'm not shrinking; still walking tall at five feet. Though, I swear I was 5'2" in the eighth grade...Anyhoo, I wouldn't want to get any taller because "Five feet one inch of pure bliss" or "Hawaii Five One" doesn't sound nearly as good.

After that fun, I was escorted to a very tiny room that could have used some cheery decor. The lady tells me to put on the johnny and I spent the next five minutes worrying if I had put it on correctly or not. I mean, the last time my Gma was in the hospital, I distinctly remember her exposing her derriere to us as a result of the open part going in the back, but how does one tie this at this angle? Are we not supposed to actually tie this? The man in the pamphlet has it this way. Okay, I'll just leave it this way. I mean, I can always switch it, right?? Shoot, my Kindle is over there. How can I get up and get it if I have socks off? I mean, I could but do I really want to touch this floor again? Sick. They really need to paint the walls. Yellow would be nice. Once I settled on the open part in the back and came to terms that I brought my Kindle for no reason, I spent the rest of my time worrying about having to go to the bathroom. Agh, I probably shouldn't have had that tea. But I was tired. I am tired. Poor doctors, they always see me tired and spazzy. At least I'm friendly otherwise. Ah.  I have to pee, I'm pretty sure of it. And she's gonna feel on my bladder and aaah...

My thoughts were occasionally broken up from the voices outside of my confinement. Nurses singing "Bad Romance", a woman claiming that she doesn't know if she'll survive Valentine's Day, and another talking very passionately about fish.

I somehow manage to make it through the actual exam. I definitely pulled faces and also made jokes the entire time, but I maintained friendly at least. The nurse practitioner suggested I  learn more about anatomy and how things work. "What if the kids at school ask you something?" Yuck. I like to eat well and work out. I don't need to know what's going on inside otherwise, thanks. Then came the "When was the last time you got your Tetanus shot? Have you been cut? Bitten by something?" I replied, "Both actually, but somehow they didn't give me a shot. They gave me an ointment both times and offered me a hearing test." This is a true story. VERY ridiculous trips to to the doctors when I lived in Greenpoint, let me tell you. Anyway, I got the shot. No passing out! Score!

I've decided that I like the health industry in this order:

1. Orthopedic-went a couple of times in NY. Nice office, no needles, no violations. Good conversations.
2. Eye doc's-Last time I went, I had the most inspirational talks with the people that worked there. I do get confused when they ask me if this picture or this picture looks better though. I'm too indecisive for that kind of testing.
3. Dentist-I'm anti saliva vacuum (dry mouth much!), but I usually somehow manage to have nice chats there also. Points down for headaches, tool sounds, and blinding light in the eye.
4. Regular doc's/GYNO-Well, this is a pretty obvious one.

Thank you, goodbye! Not so fast...

Since August, I've been rockin' a long term sub gig in an elementary school. I have loved it. I get to hang out with six year-olds all day, play freeze tag (I accidentally knocked a couple of kids over playing on Thursday. They're tough though), and go to art class. You really can't beat this kind of lifestyle. Anyhoo, I was rather bummed because last Friday was my last day of work. I was going out with a bang however. All week was basically "Goodbye Kristen" week. A surprise luncheon was thrown in my honor, people gave me gifts, kids were sobbing. It was awesome. This surely beat all other jobs I've had. For one, no one has accused me of counterfeiting bills or grand larceny at this gig (yes, this did happen. Totally innocent), but also, people have just been so damn nice and welcoming. It's nice to be welcomed. I even received a balloon this week. Come to find out, the balloon was a leftover from a party that someone had thrown, but still, it's sort of like vintage then, and I've always wanted a balloon so whatever. Oh, and lasagna. I received a lovely box of frozen lasagna. I figure I'll eat one bite ever year on February 1st. It'll be my twist on the wedding cake.

I left work feeling sad but also very grateful. The following day I received a text message: I would have to continue working until Tuesday. The lady whose maternity leave I had been covering is actually not coming back until Wednesday. So, basically, there was a whole week of parties thrown in my honor and surprise! I'm actually not gone. This is kind of like how I filed taxes and received another W2 exactly the next day. Great. Anyhoo, tomorrow should be relatively awkward and most likely confusing as hell for the kids. It's confusing as hell for me. I wonder if there will be more cupcakes??