Wedding Weekend Shenanigans

You all know I went to Cathi & Mike's wedding in Massachusetts over the St. Patrick's Day weekend, so here's how that went down...

>Thursday night I was forced to sleep with two ACTUAL dogs. Yes, me, the woman who despises house pets more than anything. I'm telling you, people and their pets will forever confuse the hell out of me. How do you just let some filthy animal in the bed... *remembers some bad decisions made after many drinks in the club* Oh. Never mind.

>Friday we got all prettied up and got Cathi to the "church" on time. And by church I mean butterfly conservatory in Deerfield. We took pics, danced, ate and drank only a little (but of course I OD'd on champagne because I don't understand what "drink in moderation" means, so I had a bit of a headache). Nina was there looking FAB as always, and we helped make the wedding rather colorful (see what I did there? LOL!) Afterward Cathi strolled from dive bar to dive bar in her wedding dress (and me in MY bridesmaid dress) dancing and basking in all the attention. It was pretty great!

The Rowdy Girls!

Bridal Party

Babies!

Primitas!

>One of Mike's friends is desperately in love with me, after only seeing and speaking with me for what--ten minutes? Yeah, he's sprung. Can you blame him? Massachusetts' white boys really have a thing for ol' Jaded, let me tell you! (I may or may not be exaggerating, but go with it. Ego and such...)

>Saturday, Cathi and Mike, still wearing their wedding garbs, took to the streets to cheer on folks running in some 10K road race that happens every year. And they made the local news! I stayed behind because listen--I have Caribbean blood in me. We don't do outdoor events in winter weather. Besides, there was a DR vs. PR World Baseball Classic game on (we won, of course!). I love Mike and Cathi but...baseball, son. Baseball.

>Later that evening, an Irish car bomb set the tone for the night. This little white boy came over to ogle at Cathi's pigtails (and breasts) and it turns out he was the very same white boy I made out with back in 2009. To hear him tell it, I "mouth-raped" him and then tossed him aside, leaving him wondering if he should call 911. Then he tried to give me bedroom eyes and said, "You're a good kisser, yo." Clearly, since he still remembered me. Meanwhile, I would not be able to describe him to a sketch artist at all. And then he went in for the grope.

I don't remember passing out on Cathi's futon at the end of the night (fully clothed), but I do remember feeding the jukebox ($5 got us 12 songs!), losing horribly at pool (I'm so rusty!) and apparently, I tweeted this literary gem:

I think I wrote this in Gaelic.

Oh, Massachusetts. Just memories upon memories of foolishness.

*smooches...anticipating my next travel adventure*
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it will be soon and it will be FABULOUS!

From Simple Things The Best Things Begin

This week's inspirational post is courtesy of Cathi and Mike's wedding day. And it couldn't have come at a better time, seeing as I just admitted that my latest +1 attempt failed, yet again, and I was seriously on the verge of letting that ruin my anticipation of this St. Patrick's Day wedding.

If you knew Cathi and everything she's been through and continues to struggle with, you'd understand why her nuptials inspire me, and why her and Mike's love encouraged me to not settle for less and not give up on finding real happiness.

The happy couple

I met Cathi when I wasn't really looking for more friends; she met Mike when she wasn't really looking for anything serious. It is absolutely true you get everything you need when you're supposed to get it, not when you demand it from the Universe. And now here we are, 20 years into our friendship, getting ready to put on makeup, fancy dresses and high heels so she can begin her new life with her new husband. Happy endings really happen. Don't ever give up, folks, ever.



Congratulations to one of my dearest friends and her special beau, who managed to fit into our lives your life seamlessly. I wish you so many wonderful years of wedded bliss.

Oh and PS, Mike: you hurt her, you die. It's that simple. #ThugLife

*smooches...willingly witnessing love*
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and I won't even bring up the fact that she was MY FIANCE FIRST. I really won't...

Spring Poem

It's blinding me...

a warmth in my room woke me to the
delicious fear of a bright yellow
something, something so radiantly loud
that my face sought refuge from the glare

silently, peeking through my fingers,
i saw the drapes were open,
leaving me bare...exposed...weak
desperately shielding my eyes

helpless, I tossed my pillow
at that blasted window, scaring
away the chipper singers who had
begun to compete with the alarm clock

and like an angered Zeus who’d
lost his thunder, I sprung out of bed
still dizzy from sleep,
frantically wondering:

What happened to the snow?

*smooches...observing the swiftness of time passing by*
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I swear just yesterday it was Christmas!

The Sun Is Out! A New Day Is Here!

The only way I can ever get stuff done is to make lists--on Post-It notes, in notebooks, via StickyNotes on the desktop computer--everywhere I can I keep a list. Besides all of the things I have written out that needs to be done at the office before I go on vacation:

In case you thought I did SHIT ALL during the day

I have some lofty goals moving into the summer, both wellness- and career-wise, and even a few "fun-itiatives" too, and I don't mind sharing some of them here with you today.

1- Develop a few new short stories. I've been stuck on the same set of tales that I wrote for my stupid non-finished thesis and frankly, all of those characters are getting on my last nerve. It's time to move on.

2- Go three entire months of regular training and workouts: yoga, Pilates, dance and MAYBE a week or two of bootcamp. My doctor's main bit of advice after giving me the herniated disc diagnosis was "build up your core strength to avoid further injury." So that's my new mission in life. After the three months it should be old hat, no? I'll just be in the habit of working out and not have to be told? RIGHT?

3- Get back on that freelance horse. So if you have any leads to PAYING gigs, let a sistah know.

4- Update my wardrobe. For too long now I've been rocking my same old fat clothes, even though I've lost the weight. That's right, I'm walking around town looking schleppy every damn day. I guess I've just gotten to the point where I actually care about looking put together. Not fancy or anything, but it would be nice if my clothes fit me properly.

5- Commit to a paleo/primal life. For real. I've been floundering and letting a few setbacks stop me from eating clean all the time. This needs to stop. This will stop. I like my doctor but I'm not fitna put her child through college with my co-pays!

On this beautiful ALMOST spring day, what is on your LIFE TO DO list?

*smooches...longing to frolic in the sun*
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I get like this every spring; LONG LIVE THE SUN!

I Can't Fix Everything

"I like Travis, but he is not your responsibility." -Katherine to her daughter, Daphne, regarding her boyfriend, "Switched at Birth"

I just ended something that kind of resembled a relationship, mainly because I still believe in love and a happily ever after and this guy wasn't it for me. At least not right now. It sounds cliche but we're in different places in our lives, and I thought I could wait for him to catch up but all it was doing was stunting my own growth.

And I hate to admit that because we used to be friends and right now I'm feeling like an AWFUL friend for just abandoning him. That's what it feels like--as if I've abandoned my friend in his time of great need. But I just keep telling myself that I shouldn't have to dull my shine to help someone else be, feel or do better. And just be selfish for my own sake.

Still, when something funny or great happens, or if he just crosses my mind, I pick up my phone to text him and then remember that he probably doesn't want to hear from me. Of course, that could just be my own fears getting in the way; perhaps the friendship is still salvageable. Who knows? What I do know is that I love life, and as hard as it is I love MY life and the people in it. I get down sometimes but just a quick glance at the sun or a flower or a crazy email from Mari and I'm back on my happiness trail.

Most of my life I've played Ms. Fix It and gave too many people too many allowances and now, at almost 40 years old, I'm exhausted. I gave out all the free passes to be miserable in my presence that I can give. I didn't have any more passes for him and his never-ending bad mood.

It might be mean on my part but I see it like this: I pulled myself out of the depths of suicidal thoughts, like right in the thick of not giving any fucks and truly wanting to die. That is the truth. If I can do it then I can't understand why others relish in their bad feelings. It's frustrating for me to sit back and see this in others, and I always go back to that one line from Say Anything, when John Cusack's character asks Joan Cusack's character, "Why can't you be in a good mood? How hard is it to decide to be in a good mood and be in a good mood once in a while?"

I've referenced that line before and admitted that I thought it was hard but really, it isn't. There's music. There's nature. There are people who care about you whether you want to let them or not. Unhappiness is a choice. Anger is a choice. Misery is a choice. And if this homeless guy can get crunk in the face of his misfortune, there's no excuse for the rest of us and our First World Problems:



Everyone is entitled to bad days. Heck, I have about five or six a month myself and half are not even tied-in to PMS! And we all have problems that seem bigger than us that could potentially swallow up our sanity. I get that. I'm right there. But it doesn't mean you can't put a smile on your face and be happy that at least you're alive and possess the capacity to make a positive change in your life.

I wish my friend could see that.

*smooches...sprinkling rainbows in your life on this rainy NYC day*
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and how AWESOME is that old man? I need to take dancing lessons from him!