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September 19, 2005
4-Eva
I was working on a big elaborate piece on the phenomenon of MySpace, but like I said the computer crashed and when I sat here trying to put it all back together, I realized I could just talk about something else until the computer man recovers those documents. The piece can't be done over again like it was the first time. I forgot all the stuff I said. Dude,though, MySpace is off the chain and I'm not even a member. I did research though. The thing I was writing had hilarious links, and I'd even taken the time to interview MySpace addicts so I could better understand it. It is, in fact, one of those things that changes the landscape of the world, like Google. It's weird. Let's hope I can get it back because it was fun to write. But whatever, this is about weddings.
It�s getting wedding retarded in my little bubble.
Two weeks ago, one of J�s closest friends in life and business announced his engagement. J had to keep it a secret for a long time and he did a great job. Even my nosy ass knew nothing of the plans and I presume I know every little piece of gossip there is to know from here to Syosset.
My best friend from high school is totally marrying her high school sweetheart soon. She�s in the planning stages now. Picking out halls and colors and making lists.
Some more people we know, PLURAL, have announced that they think it�s time and J is doling out advice, great advice, which pleases me. Boy�s creative. And yes, I be eavesdropping.
This past weekend, I went to the most amazing wedding ever. Granted, I�ve only been to a few weddings. I could even say only a couple weddings which says exactly what about me -- that I or my family ain't so traditional. It might also indicate that I don�t have very many friends. I�ve always been a quality not quantity person in the friend department anyway. I�m a floater, you see. I keep one great one. Stay in touch with past greats. End up getting hugged up girlfriend-style with a super great. Discard the not-so-greats who would have never made it into the inner circle anyway. Inner circle being that they know all, like all, my business and speak to Shorty and Mercy as if they were family.
But this wedding, I tell you, was absolutely fabulous. I woke up the next morning giddy about it. I mean, was it the infinity pool overlooking the lily-covered pond? Was it the one day of beautiful weather sandwiched between the rainiest day ever and the most humid day ever indicating that this couple�s luck was the most perfect in the world? Was it the Brasilian salsa band including a harp player and a Filipino saxophonist? Was it the gigantic chocolate cupcake? Was it the naked toddlers in the pool not even 20 minutes after the kiss-the-bride part? Or could it have been the fact that I totally used to listen to this straight edge band called Gorilla Biscuits when I was in junior high and I thought the lead singer Civ was cool as hell. Civ, at the wedding, introduced himself to me after he knew I was clearly the hula hoop champion of the day. I shook his hand saying I was �Melissa, the hula hoop champ�� Yes, they had hula hoops at the wedding. And Civ was feeling my skills. The trick is to cheat with your swayback. Beyond fucking surreal. It was a most beautiful day and I felt all in love and shit after the fact. I was crying at the father�s toast where he recalled laughing on the inside when he heard someone say something corny like �Here�s to forever� and that he had no choice but to say exactly that as he looked at his new coupled kids. I was crying! And I only met his son, the groom, two days earlier at The Downtown where he told me not to wear heels and I went home in a panic going, but the models will be there and they are so tall. J, whatever will we do!
The only thing about this whole wedding situation is that now, at every turn, people are asking, �When are you and J going to get married�� and they ask J the same shit. I feel awkward about it because then he might feel pressure and I don�t want him to feel that way because I�m not ready my damn self. Marriage? I just moved into this mother fucker last week. Then there�s that whole age thing. I�m totally not young. Very soon, very soon I�ll be not only NOT YOUNG, but totally KINDA OLD. Young will be a faded memory. I don�t even know what a 30-year-old girl slash woman with this frame should wear. I mean, I almost wrote Oprah a letter.
Dear Oprah,
I�m approaching 30 and I�m 4�11� and weigh under 100 pounds. With this frame, I almost have to shop in the juniors department but the asymmetrical shit and the bedazzled graffiti and the ribbons, bows, crystals and sequins keep me away. I�ve given up shopping altogether. When I do shop, I end up purchasing another set of gold hoop earrings that I stare at as I eat the cookies and the pretzels that I eat at the mall to pass the time while my boyfriend shops for ANOTHER iPod.
My new uniform consists of jeans (alternating between my fat pair and the pair that I must wear a long shirt with because I can�t snap them at the top), white v-neck t-shirts that are too small for my boyfriend and a great pair of shoes. Great being entirely relative considering I have no fashion pattern. I couldn�t pin point my look if I had to. I just recently gave up the whole midriff thing because I realized while vacationing in Cancun of all places I�m both old and not that hot in the stomach area anymore. I can�t really wear this uniform every day though, can I?
Oprah, you�re the best dressed woman in the entire world. Can you please do an episode that addresses specifically my problem? Perhaps including me on the show where you say SURPRISE, MELISSA, YOU�RE GOING SHOPPING WITH ME and you get to take it all home. And then the camera pans to me at my front door, looking like shit, all out of breath and hugging you inappropriately for a long amount of time? Is that possible? And if so, can you hook up my mom, my sister, Coral and Coral�s mom? We all want new hair, clothes, confidence and of course, the opportunity to meet you because you�re the best person ever. For real, though, I did a show for the Oxygen network for like three years. I never even got to smell you, much less, meet you. So what�s up?
Love YES LOVE,
Melissa Howard
I never sent it off. She�ll never write back. Do you think Ellen would? No. They�ve all got bigger fish to fry like Emmy shit and duh, the Hurricane Katrina victims need lots of stuff still. It ain�t over yet. The re-building has just begun! How dare I be so selfish!
Back to the equally depressing topic of weddings --
J is totally a courthouse, low-key type dude anyway. He�s not trying to be jacked up in a tuxedo, without his hat, all day making rounds and making small talk with cousins he barely knows. He wants no fanfare. No gifts. He hates gifts. No announcements. He hates to be the center of attention which is odd because he almost always is without even trying. He�s just that cool of a person. And he especially ain�t trying to spend no $100,000 on just one day when he could have built an architecturally �sick� farm house in Montauk with that.
Amazingly enough, I think J has met his true match. I�ve never thought about big white dresses and crying all week and bossing my sister and Coral around all day about the fact that I SAID MERLOT YOU ASSHOLES! That whole Bridezilla thing never piqued my interest. You can�t drink Merlot in a white dress anyway. Besides, I think there�s something really hot about Goldie Hawning it. Just be in a hippie ass relationship for decades and have your kids be graced with amazing names honoring dead grandparents you�ve never met and paying homage to all the bands your boyfriend�s ever been in. And when people ask you about why you never tied the knot, rather than getting all political about it talking about we don�t want the government to interfere in our love life, you just say you were too busy enjoying each other�s company to take time out to plan that sort of thing. Oh, but I still get a ring. Yeah, don�t sleep.
Don�t get me wrong. There have been days where I�ve watched a wedding show or seen some shit in a magazine that made me go DAMN that would be amazing but I�ve still never been one to hint to my boyfriends about long-term commitments. When he�s ready, he�s ready and he should hope that I�m into it because having to suck your tongue, take a pause and say, �Oooh, wow, you know, I�ll have to say NO to that one but you�re still really nice�� would suck.
After the best wedding ever this past weekend though, I do see the value in creating a wedding environment where everyone is happy to be there and isn�t aching to get back to the car and undo his tie that he wears with the suit that he hates. At this wedding, the bride was barefoot in the grass and the groom was in a jam session around the fire pit by the time the sun went down. There were tambourines! And a Victoria�s Secret model. And FEDORAS that weren�t wack. When models and musicians merge, the party is the bomb and everyone is hot and no one feels inadequate because the drinks are so strong. Even the babies are having a great time because they�re allowed to be babies. No shushing, no uncomfortable polyester baby tuxes and tulle skirts. They were walking around naked, drinking fresh juice and even playing maracas.
At around 8:45, J and I started making our rounds to say goodbye. At 8:54, I felt a rain drop fall on my nose. At exactly 9, I was buckling my seatbelt as the rain started pouring down hard. It was the most perfectly timed wedding ever. Just the right amount of festivity coupled just the perfect weather. J even said this couple probably didn�t even take cover from the rain. As we were getting on the ferry to get off the island, he said, �I can totally see them dancing in the rain right now�� and I just thought to myself, they�re the coolest people ever. Genuinely the coolest EVER. Well, she was the prettiest woman I�ve ever met, what with her mother being from Singapore and her father being Australian and YES, she had an accent and she was super duper fine. With freckles, too! She was the embodiment of insanity � beauty, personality, body, kindness, coolness. If she weren�t such a beautiful person, inside and out, I�d have tried to shank her in the woods. She was just amazing.
I was telling J that in a letter where I thank them for inviting us, where I praise their wedding for all its details, for being the best day of MY life too, I�ll just go on and on about how lingering an effect their day had on us as a couple. J was like, �Babe, if you wrote that, it�d be the sickest, most gracious letter ever. You should do it�� When I called Coral to tell her all about it, the first thing she said after I finished going off about how even the portable toilets were immaculate and beautifully draped in pink rose petals, she was like, �Write that shit down. The bride would love to hear it. You should write it!� and I said, �Yeah�� and then I felt all good about my ability to write for a split second because the two people I love the most totally co-signed.
To steal something from Spriteboy, this is the gayest post ever, but dude, love is on some different shit.
Posted by melissah at September 19, 2005 04:15 PM