16 Dresses: How to be a good bridesmaid

1) Always look your best. If the dress is champagne, for goodness sakes, go get a tan. And keep in mind the neckline of the dress. No triangle bikinis within a month prior to your strapless bridesmaid dress debut. This will also likely involve hours at the salon, makeup you may or may not approve of, and hundreds of bobby pins. No complaining.





















2) Flirt with the groomsmen. It makes the bride & groom happy to think that their friends and family are fun and interesting, and it makes the groomsmen stand a little straighter and smile a little wider. You must be careful with this one. It's important, when you meet a groomsman's wife/fiancee/girlfriend, to tell her (in this order) 1) how pretty her dress is, 2) how much said groomsman has told you about her, and 3) how sorry you are that your boyfriend (real or fictional) couldn't make it to the wedding this weekend. Otherwise, you risk a potential jealous wife/fiancee/girlfriend, and we don't want any negative emotions this weekend.
















3) Make friends with the flower girl. There is not a snowball's chance in hell that a 3-yr-old will stand quietly beside you for 30 minutes unless you are her new best friend. Do whatever it takes. Sing "Wheels On The Bus" 30 times at the rehearsal dinner if you have to. Don't worry about the ring bearer; he is a lost cause. The groomsmen could care less if he runs screaming down the aisle or rolls his matchbox cars over the priest's feet during the vows, and you can't do a thing about it from your side of the altar. Focus on the girl. She can be won over.















4) Dance, dance, dance. Have a few drinks if you need to in order to loosen up, but you must dance. It is my opinion that at least one member of the wedding party should be on the dance floor at all times, so if the crowd looks a little sparse, grab Grandpa and shake it, sister.















5) Keep the bride laughing. Especially in the event of any minor mishap, a distraction, any distraction, is essential for the protection of her hair and makeup. Crying, while it can be very sweet, is not a pretty thing. If you're close enough to be a bridesmaid, you're close enough to have some inside joke that will make her chuckle despite the fact that the ring bearer refuses to wear anything but Dallas Cowboys sweatpants or the idiot limo driver took you to the wrong church.















6) Do anything the bride asks. This is her day. You are her maid. Literally. Somebody has to put that garter up there.

MACHU PICCHU!

Oh, my goodness! I'm so excited I can hardly sleep. I have got Machu Picchu on the brain. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I became fixated on this place several years ago. I think it all started with a lecture in dental school by the single most boring dentist on the face of the earth. Because he was sooooooooo boring, he forced us to come to class by taking attendance, which they did by having us sit in alphabetical assigned seats. So I settled into my place between Taiym and Tran, my Palestinian and Vietnamese neighbors (who, while sweet as can be, were not what I would call "chatty") with a crossword puzzle and pen in hand. Okay, the crossword puzzle wasn't too out of the ordinary, but I wasn't cozily ensconced between my three very bestest friends, Al, Ann & Jill, so I was prepared for boredom. But Dr. Stromberg started this first lecture of the semester a little differently. He spent 10 minutes showing us pictures and telling us about his trip to Peru, where he hiked the Inca Trail. All of a sudden, a picture of Machu Picchu popped up on the screen, and I fell instantly and madly in love.

At this point in my life, I was a poor dental student with an even poorer dental student boyfriend. Since there wasn't an M&M's chance at fat camp I could get El Cheapo to shell out $100 for anything, much less the $2000 it would cost to get to Peru, I stashed my dream vacay aside for better times (and, for that matter, a better boyfriend).

Well, friends, my dream is coming true. I AM GOING TO MACHU PICCHU! Jeff, the sweetest, most wonderful, most considerate boyfriend in the whole entire world (and, as you can see from my previous post, quite the cutie!), is taking me to Peru for my 30th birthday in October. We had been chatting about my "birthday trip" for a while, but were just a little facetious when throwing around the idea of going to South America. I was honestly thinking about a weekend in New York City or something small. I never, in my wildest dreams, imagined a 10-day trip to Peru. It was totally meant to be. Jeff thought we might be able to book these flights with miles instead of dollars, but wasn't quite sure how much, if any, more affordable that would be. So we had a long conversation with American Airlines on Monday night, during which we learned that a trip from DFW to Cuzco, Peru, and a return trip from Arequipas, Peru, back to DFW would run exactly 35,000 miles each. Jeff had 59,500 miles in his AAdvantage account and knew he would get 3,600 more this week from a trip to Phoenix for work. So we're sitting at 63,000 miles. Then the lady said something about, "What about your companion? Does she have any miles?" Light bulb! Me: "[audible gasp] I think I do have some miles! I got some email about it a few weeks ago!" A few short seconds and a quick Gmail search later, I found my AAdvantage Account Summary email, which stated that I have a little over 7,500 miles. 63,000 + 7,500 = 70,500. Now is that fate, or what?

For Flo

Superstition Everywhere

I learned something new about myself this week. I do not have any superstitions. Jill and I had a quite heated debate about it. She was very surprised to learn something new about me after spending almost every day for 6 of the last 8 years with me. I was a little surprised myself. It all started when we were talking about this wedding I am in (this makes #16, I think; subject for another blog tentatively titled "16 Dresses"), and she asked what time the wedding started. I said, "I'm not sure. Either 2:00 or 2:30." Jill said, "So does your family believe that you need to get married on the half-hour so the minute hand is always climbing UP during the ceremony?" I said, "Psht. I guess . . . That's stupid." She said, "WHAT?!?" I said, "All that wedding stuff is silly. If it rains on your wedding day or doesn't rain, if you wear something blue, blah blah blah." Then we argued about it for 5 minutes. Through the argument, we learned that I don't believe in superstitions of any kind. I don't think that wearing one red sock will help you hit a homerun or rain on your wedding day makes for a happy marriage or eating black-eyed-peas on New Year's Day will make you prosper or black cats and walking under ladders and opening umbrellas indoors, etc . . . I think they're just plain silly. I think that a couple who gets married on a Tuesday afternoon at the JP's office can be just as happily married as the couple who does everything exactly by the books, including all the old wives' tales. I racked my brain to try to come up with something, ANYTHING, that I'm superstitious about. I did have a certain pencil I liked to use for tests in dental school, but that was just because it wrote at a perfect density with just the right about of pressure. I never felt like I wouldn't do well on a test without it.

Now, I do believe in following tradition, which Jill says is basically superstition because most all traditions are based on superstition. Hmmmmmmmm. I agree that they usually began with some sort of superstition, but in my opinion, once they become a tradition, it's no longer "superstitious" to do it. So will I do all these silly little things when I get married? Probably. But basically I would do it just to appease those around me who think it's important. Do any of you have any crazy superstitions? Do tell!

Eugene Dice

Juli's idea (www.threeminutesandarainbow.blogspot.com). Read hers. It's hilarious!

Side 1 - Impersonate a mexican jumping bean while barking at increasingly irritating decibels simply because the rest of the known world is 5 feet taller than you are, and gosh-darn-it, you need some attention!

Side 2 - Play tug-of-war/fetch until someone loses a digit.

Side 3 - Stretchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Side 4 - Go for a jog with Mommy, all the while, looking over your shoulder as if to say, "C'mon! Hurry up! What's the matter? Can't run any faster than that? I have 4 inch legs, and I'm WAY ahead of you, lady! C'mon, c'mon, c'mooooooooooooooooooon!!!"

Side 5 - Sit, Speak, No, that's too loud, Speak just a little bit, Stand up and spin, Walk, Lay down & roll over, God Bless You (aka, the "treat" routine).

Side 6 - Snuggle up to Mommy and sleep like the 7 lb angel that you are.

My Maine Squeeze

I am incredibly-extra-stupid-happy. My "meet the parents" trip was a smashing success, and Jeff & I are even more puke/vomit than ever. Jeff says the last two months have been like a Dr. Scholl's commercial. I know what you're thinking. "Um, what?" That was my response exactly, to which he replied, "You know that commercial where they're walking around on clouds . . ." Awwwwwwwwwwwwww.

So Maine is full of amazing scenery and cute little port towns and sailboats and lobster and blueberries and local shops & restaurants. What's not to like? It is definitely the "cutest" place I've ever been. I did pretty well on the 2 hour sail we took, but towards the end I was feeling a little puke/vomit (and not the good kind). I met almost the entire family. Apparently, they all like me, but I usually do really well with the families. It's the boyfriends that are the problem.

So things are blissful here in LaLa Land. Skies are clear, the water's blue, everything's beautiful, and the world exploded into love all around me.