Tales from La La Land

Before we get started, I would like to point out that I am approaching my two-week anniversary and I am starting to wonder who this person is that I married.

I think we all know about Laef’s extreme budgeting. He was very nervous about the wedding and the honeymoon. He probably thought that I’d go all Bridezilla and insist on Patron, Sea Scallops and Grilled Artichokes as the wedding meal.

That would have been nice, but even I knew our limits.

Anywasted, we did everything we wanted to do in New York, but definitely made a huge effort to cut corners where we could. We didn’t indulge in expensive meals and we certainly didn’t shop as much as I would have liked. We didn’t bother with room service or paying for internet service in our room ($16 per day) – things that would have been kind of nice, but seemed ridiculous in terms of cost.

So, it should come as no surprise that after everything has been said and done, we went under budget. We actually had a decent amount of money left in our wedding account. (A HUGE thanks to all our wonderful friends and family who served as DJ, cake-deliever, guitar player, bouquet-makers, officiant and wedding coordinator. All of those things saved us a lot of money).

I think Laef feels a sense of relief. I feel a sense of accomplishment. I didn’t spend every last dollar to my name – which is how I usually roll.

Yesterday Laef had to make a Costco run to get snacks for a work meeting. He called and asked if we needed anything and I said no because I just went to the grocery store.

When I got home from work, I noticed an industrial size bag of Chex Mix on top of the fridge. I then noticed a box of 80 fruit snacks. The fruit snacks were next to a bottle of 18-year aged scotch.

WTF.

WHO is this person that spends $100 at Costco on fruit snacks and Scotch?

My husband. Who is apparently now a Scotch drinker (Thanks, Sean).

Moving On.

New York City Day 3 – Yankees, Wings and Bar None

The Yankee game was an afternoon game, starting at 1:05 p.m. Let’s be honest, we didn’t do anything in the morning before the game. We slept in again and decided our first meal of the day would be ballpark food.

We took the 4 train to Yankee Stadium and ate at the first place we saw, which had a sign that boasted: “Cheapest Beers at Yankee Stadium”.

So we got two Bud Lite tall boys for $16, a chili dog and a hamburger. It was delicious.

My cousin, Lindsay, and her husband Chris, met us outside with tickets. They sit in Section 203 in the bleachers. If you ever make it to Yankee Stadium, I highly recommend this section.

Lindsay and Chris knew almost everyone sitting near us. They used to have season tickets and met all these other people, who also have season tickets. Same people, sitting the same section for years.

It gives you a great local feel. One of Lindsay’s friends is the leader of what is known as Roll Call.

As the first inning starts, this guy gets the section to start chanting every single Yankee starter. They go through each position, yell the player’s name until said player turns and waves to the section. (ARod, seen below, barely raised a glove because he is a dick, but the rest of them got pretty into it).

It’s awesome.

This is also the section that you will get taunted if you are clearly a tourist and order Guiness with your garlic fries. I don’t know why this guy and his girlfriend thought Guiness was a good idea on a hot New York summer day, but the locals took notice, yelling, “Milk was a bad choice! Enjoy your garlic fries and milk!”

This is also the section that taunted Nick Markakis (who by the way might be my new favorite player because of his hotness factor and because he it a bomb to section 203 after being ribbed for nine straight innings) for the ENTIRE game.

I am pretty sure that the guy in the photo below was yelling this: “Hey, Markakis! We’ve got your mom up here! And we’re shaving her back!”

It was a ton of fun, we drank $9 beers, ate fries and the Yankees won. Good times.

After leaving the game, we headed back to the hotel to shower and figure out our evening plans.

We decided to head to Croxley Ales near NYU because it was Wednesday. And on Wednesday they have 10-cent wings.

The place was packed with locals, which I loved.

There are rules on 10 cent wing night, starting with the fact that you have to order at least 20 wings to begin and have to increase in increments of 10. We made it through the first 20 no problem, but Laef may have over estimated us with the second 20. I think we only managed to eat half of them.

We ended up eating dinner for $4.00 and the drinks were very reasonable so it was another cheap date.

Not too far away was a bar called Bar None, which had $2 well drinks for ladies on Wednesday’s.

This place was a total college bar. It smelled of stale beer and puke, but it was 80s/90s music night and they had cheap drinks. It had Mike Tyson’s “Punch Out” on Nintendo (circa 1987) set up and anyone who was able to beat Mike Tyson won a free pitcher. They say it doesn’t happen often.

The female bartenders took a liking to Laef. He was dancing to 80s music in his barstool and it was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. We ordered a shot of Patron, a Mikes Hard Lemonade and a beer.

The bartender told Laef, “Just give me $10.”

Seriously? We just spent $9 for one beer at Yankee Stadium and this girl was giving us all that for $10?

Laef quickly tried to figure out how to anull the marriage so he could marry this girl. Or Angie Sit who gave us the book that led us to this bar.

We had so much fun at this dive listening to fun music and drinking cheap beer.

After leaving I convinced Laef that we needed a crepe from the street vendor. The dude was making them fresh right there on a grill. It was so effing yummy. And messy. I dropped half of the contents out on the subway, but I saved the Nutella, so it didn’t matter much.

This was the first night that we slept like babies.

I guess I’ll write this blog since the fucking Cardinals are embroiled in some 15-inning game with the Dodgers right now.

This is cutting into my Top Chef Masters time. Not to mention, Laef did not say anything about extra-inning games in his vows.

I’ve kept myself occupied for about as long as I can and now there’s nothing left to do but recap Day 2 of our honeymoon.

NYC Day 2 – Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Seeing as I am old and therefore couldn’t seem to sleep well at all, I was always groggy in the mornings. Normally, I’m up at 7 a.m., including the weekends. For some reason, I was lethargic every morning in NYC and had trouble getting my ass in gear.

We woke up to rain on Tuesday morning and I utilized my second “wife card” (the one where I promise some kind of sexual something if Laef will pretty please be the one to walk four blocks to Ess-a-Bagel).

Call me a princess bride if you want, but I guarantee you he was happy to go without me. I am a bitch in the morning until I have coffee. (Sidenote: I would like to send a request to the Waldorf that they put coffee makers in their rooms STAT. I’m sure that’s like totally ghetto or something, but I AimLow if you didn’t know).

We were both in much better shape after some delicious egg and cheese bagels.

Our first stop of the day was the Brooklyn Bridge. We pretended ran across it to get all the best views of the city. It was quite cloudy and rainy, so it wasn’t as picturesque as I imagined, but it was still a fun walk.

Today was also the day that we decided to go to the World Trade Center site.

It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to see the emptiness. It’s hard to stand there, in one of the busiest cities in the world, and imagine that on a normal September morning, something so abnormal could have happened.

New Yorkers are interesting people. They ooze character and passion. They’re passionate about everything – The Yankees, walking down the street, riding the subway, shopping, eating, drinking, laughing and living.

But, most of all, they’re passionate about being New Yorkers.

So, as we toured the city and eventually made our way to the memorial museum, I just couldn’t wrap my head around such passionate people being attacked in such a dark way.

The memorial is filled with many things.

Mostly it is filled with the memory of the people.

And that was tough to see.

One wall is completely covered in missing persons posters that had lined the city streets after the attacks. For some, there has never been closure. Their loved ones have never been found.

I can not imagine.

Once we left the memorial site, we headed over to the TKTS booth to buy discount Broadway tickets. Basically, you stand in line at the booth and can buy half-price tickets to whatever shows have not sold out for that night.

We purchased two tickets to Phantom of the Opera. I was pushing for Mary Poppins, but it was a no-go.

Before getting on the subway to head home and get cleaned up for Broadway, we ate at L&L Hawaiian Barbecue.

While it was very delicious and reasonably priced, I have to say that it did not overtake Hawaiian Time in Eugene.

After eating, we ventured back to midtown to rest up and get ready for Phantom.

We made it on time, which is a plus for us. I have to say that I didn’t love it. I am not sure what that means. I also didn’t hate it. I just wasn’t moved by it. Despite my uncertainty, I was completely in awe of seeing a show on Broadway in NYC.

Afterwards, we wandered around Times Square and ate pizza for a late-night snack.

Once again, the city kicked our ass and we called it a night before midnight.

Stay tuned for Day 3: Yankee Stadium and Bar None. My favorite day.

Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.

It’s hard to believe we’re here already. Back to work, back in our routine. It’s as though this monumental thing never happened. In the blink of an eye, the year of prepartion leading up to that huge day is gone.

Poof.

No more details to think about. I spent so many moments of each day thinking about details for the wedding that it almost seemed like that was the only thing going on in my life.

People are right when they tell you that not much changes after you get married. Especially if you have been living together for a few years before the wedding.

But, this morning, when I kissed Laef good-bye, something did feel different. In fact, as I leaned over to him, I thought, ‘Wow. This is my husband. This is our first grown-up kiss good-bye.’

Then I got in my car and did the same thing I have been doing for the past 18 months – listened to the same talk radio, drank the same coffee and drove the same route to work.

There’s a huge weight that’s no longer there, but looking back, every single thought, detail, stress and worry was utterly and totally worth it. It was, by far, the highlight of my life. (Except for when Teresa flipped the table on the RHONJ season finale).

After the wedding (which Ben described so well), we headed off to New York City. Rather than cram everything into one blog I will do a day by day breakdown.

The thing about vacations is that they truly help you appreciate your life. At least that is what happened for me. I was so burnt out with work, wedding planning, traffic, domestic chores and life in general prior to the wedding that I couldn’t wait to escape to New York.

However, upon returning to LA, I could not have been more happy to see the traffic on the 405, a hint of smog and overcast skies.

I LOVE our life.

Did I love coming back to work today? Not so much, but in a way it feels good to get on with our lives.

NEW YORK CITY – Monday, July 20, 2009
We actually arrived at JFK airport around 9:30 p.m. on Sunday, July 19. We were immediately approached by a random man asking if we needed a cab. He told us it would be $65 to the Waldorf. Laef, having researched the flat rate cost for most cabs from the airport to midtown, told the guy that the flat rate is $45.

Rather than lose our business, the driver agreed to take us for $45, plus $6 for the toll, plus tip. $56 gone just like that.

We found out from the hotel bellman that our “cab” driver is totally illegal and doesn’t work for any cab company. He just works on his own with a car and makes money.

At that point, I was thinking we’d be in for a long week as tourists.

We checked into Room 1642 at the Waldorf-Astoria and headed out to get some pizza.

My good friend, A. Sit, got us a NYC care package as our wedding gift. It included a book, “Dirt Cheap and Free in NYC”. We found a lot of delicious cheap eats in that book. Starting with 99 cent slices of pizza that first night.

When we got back to the hotel, we opened the bottle of champagne that our bridal party had left for us in our suite back in Manhattan Beach. We toasted our new life together.

I had no luck sleeping that first night. I don’t know if it was the time change or the excitement, but I was up until about 5 a.m. watching Cathouse on HBO and trying to see all the wedding photos on my phone.

Laef’s grandpa informed me later that my problems sleeping in a strange place have to do with being old. He might have a point. I didn’t sleep for shit the entire week.

We got a little bit of a late start on Monday. We finally walked out of the hotel around noon and headed to Starbucks to jump on the internet and get some much-needed coffee.

We then headed to Grand Sichuan in Midtown for our first real NYC meal. Holy balls, it was some of the best Chinese food we’ve ever had.

The coolest part about it was that it was a local spot. There were no tourists, just regular New Yorkers who were there for lunch. The flavors were so intense and the service was fast. It’s served piping hot. For $7.95 we each got the lunch special, which was a large portion, plus soup and rice. We walked out, tip included, spending only $20.

After that, we walked back to the hotel to refresh. At 2:30 p.m. we headed over to Bliss Spa for massages. We wanted to start our vacation off by relaxing after the craziness of the wedding. However, I highly recommend massages at the END of a trip to NYC.

The massages were wonderful and I especially liked the part where Laef locked himself out of his locker and had to venture to the front desk in his robe. There’s nothing like seeing a 6’6″ guy in a robe designed for a 5’10″ person and realizing that it’s your husband.

And then we got pretty to go to a fancy dinner at Craft in Gramercy Park. This would require our first use of the NYC subway system.

It started off a little rocky as Laef walked up to the window and had the following conversation with the subway lady.

Laef: “Hi. Um. Can I get two.”
Lady: “Two what?”
Laef: Blank Stare
Lady: “Two rides?????”
Laef: “Uh. Yeah. Two rides.”

Lucky for me, Laef went through the hard part. So when I rolled up to the window I just looked badass and asked for two rides like I had a clue what I was doing.

We got to the restaurant with plenty of time to spare so we decided to have a happy hour drink at Bocca next door. Really cute Roman cuisine restaurant with $5 beer and wine for happy hour. I actually would have liked to stay for dinner as the vibe was really relaxed and the menu looked yummy.

However, in hopes of seeing Tom Colicchio in person, we kept our reservation at Craft. The vibe was not quite as relaxed. Not that it was crowded and fast-paced, but it was so ultra fancy that I don’t think either of us felt totally comfortable.

I ordered some oysters as an appetizer and they brought us some bread. After barely putting down my oyster fork, the waiter rushed over and removed ALL of our place settings. Every plate, fork, glass, napkin.

And then he brought new dishes and re-set the table.

At one point, Laef got up to use the restroom and within .4 seconds of him getting up a different waiter sprinted over. He re-folded Laef’s napkin and put it back in its original spot.

I didn’t have to go to the bathroom, but I told Laef, “Dude. I’m going to get up and walk away. Count how many seconds until someone rushes over to clean up my mess.”

That kept us entertained throughout the meal. They probably thought we were coke whores from making trips to the bathroom.

No. We were just having some fun.

The food really was delicious. Especially the sides – Bacon and corn risotto and gnocchi. YUM.

Afterwards, we were pretty spent from our first day (I know, rough. Massages and 5-star meals) so we went back to the hotel.

It was also a little frightening of a day for Laef in terms of expenditure. Between massages and $50 entrees I think he was worried we’d be spending $1,000 per day.

But, as you will soon see, we did not.

The newly crowned Allison Morris is honeymooning with Laef in New York, rubbing elbows with the upper crust of society in Manhattan. (Tori Spelling was on their flight, which technically might not count as the “upper crust”, but she’s definitely crusty.) So as to not bog her down with the task of updating her legions of fans on every intimate detail of the wedding day / weekend while enjoying her first week of wedded bliss with her new husband, I volunteered to step in and post something on her behalf. I only hope that she doesn’t get kicked off the BlogHer Network for allowing someone with testicles to post something on her site, but as Laef pointed out, I’m married, so it really shouldn’t be a problem.

The weekend had so many highlights it’s hard to know where to begin. Check that, it’s easy to know where to begin (as you’ll soon find out), but where to go from there?

THE DANCE: For most couples, I think the first dance is one of the more nerve-racking parts of the wedding day (at least it was for me). Everyone’s looking at you, and there’s really only so much rocking back and forth you can subject your guests to. Those not lacking confidence – or rhythm – can opt for something a little more involved, like salsa or swing. Or, you can do what Laef and Allison did: make everyone think they were going the traditional route, but a minute in, change it up from Carrie Underwood to Lady GaGa. This was great on so many levels: anyone who really knows the couple wasn’t surprised that “Poker Face” made an appearance at the reception, but that Allison was able to talk Laef into doing this for their first dance; Allison did all the choreography herself (with a little help from the internet); almost everyone at the reception was completely in the dark that they were doing this, Allison only spilling the beans to a few of us after a shot of Patron unlocked the key to her vault on Thursday night. I’m going to stop trying to describe it because, quite frankly, whatever I say won’t be able to do it justice.

So hop on over to YouTube to check it out.

THE MILLIONAIRES: You know how most people with money are pretentious assholes? Well, we found evidence to the contrary on Saturday. The wedding party arrived to the beach a few hours before the ceremony so we could take some pictures, and as we hiked up and down the beach, sweating our collective balls off and getting sand in uncomfortable places, all while trying to look fresh and photogenic, Laef and Allison were constantly being congratulated by the locals. One particular group seemed very interested in when / where the ceremony would be, but honestly we didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to them. Hours later, when the limo parked a couple blocks up from the beach (there are only so many streets that a stretched Hummer can fit down), we had to walk down a pedestrian street nestled between multi-million dollar beachfront homes, and who should be waiting for us on their rooftop deck but the people from beach earlier in the day. We stopped to talk for a bit, and Allison jokingly asked to use their bathroom — along with like three of her bridesmaids. And they very graciously said yes and let the girls into the bathroom on the first floor of their house, then wished us well as we headed off to the ceremony. A couple houses later, there was another group of people who applauded as we walked by and even offered us beer, which we reluctantly declined.

After the ceremony was over, we had to walk back up that same street to get back to the limo, and the people from both houses were still outside waiting for us. The people that offered us beer had a bunch of 10ish-year old girls who were armed with rice to throw at Laef and Allison, which would have been the highlight of the walk back if it wasn’t for the other house. When we got to them, they were waiting outside with a tray of champagne glasses filled with Dom Perignon (think about that – having enough money to blow a $300 bottle of champagne on a group of strangers). We toasted with the guy that presumably owned the house, and he asked where they were going on their honeymoon, and they told him they were going to New York and staying at the Waldorf Astoria, to which he shouted to the people up on the deck, “Hey guys, did you hear that? That’s one of ours!” I have no idea what “one of ours” actually means, but needless to say, this guy probably throws away more money than most of us will ever make in our lifetime, and he and his family were super cool and extremely generous (even though some of them were USC alums). Really made our afternoon.

THE PEEPS: One of my biggest concerns when Annett and I got married was what George Costanza so accurately described as the “worlds colliding” phenomenon. You have family, friends from work, friends from school, friends from back home and friends of your parents, all who the bride and/or groom may be extremely close with, but not know that the other groups even exist. Now all of a sudden here’s this great celebration that they all are a part of, and will be a part of together. Will they get along, or will it be like a junior high dance with a bunch of little groups all over the place that look judgingly at everyone else and whisper about their outfits, or how much they’re drinking, or how stupid they look on the dancefloor or how obnoxious their kids are?

Once these different worlds did collide, something very special happened. Not only did people get along, but I think that some pretty good friendships came from the wedding activities. The bridal shower, the bachelor and bachelorette party were the bride’s and groom’s first line of defense: get everyone together a couple times, presumably with an adult beverage or twelve, and by the time the wedding rolls around, people should at least know each other well enough that small talk shouldn’t be a challenge (I know Annett couldn’t wait to see everyone from the bachelorette party and catch up). And let’s be honest – the other thing that Alli had going for her was this blog. She talks so often about her friends and her family that you feel like you know them before you ever met them.

So, as people started to trickle in and the weekend started to unfold: sushi on Thursday night followed by drinks at a couple bars, and then a midnight meal followed by more drinks at one more bar; the rehearsal dinner on Friday followed by drinks at the hotel bar; and then the wedding day marathon of activities that may as well have been sponsored by Corona and every brand of champagne priced under $10 at Vons. By the time we all parted ways on Sunday after breakfast, I think it’s safe to say that the majority of the group felt like we were saying goodbye to friends and not just casual acquaintances.

THE CEREMONY: What more could Laef and Allison have asked for? Sunset on the beach (with the famous L.A. smog noticeably absent); an intimate gathering of 50 or so of their closest friends and family flanked by tiki torches; Sean rocking a bowtie and accompanying the ceremony with some selections on his acoustic guitar; some great sentiments by Neil, Allison’s brother-in-law who performed the ceremony; some adorable flower girls; and vows written by the bride and groom that were both funny and heartfelt, demonstrating that Laef and Allison truly are meant to be together … I’m pretty sure it was exactly what Allison had envisioned when she started planning things.

Like I said, it was an amazing weekend and Annett and I were both glad to be along for the ride. And now that it’s over, the next logical question is, “So, when are you going to start having kids?”

Here’s a slideshow of some of Tom’s pictures:

Allison and Laef Morris – Images by Thomas Boyd

No, seriously. I have like one second to get this post up.

In the city that never sleeps absolutely nothing is free, but at Starbucks you can get two free hours of wireless per day if you buy a Starbucks card.

The wedding was more spectacular than I could have ever imagined it would be. But, I’m leaving the recap to my good friend Ben because I am not going to spend my honeymoon on the computer!

I’m just here to tell everyone that there’s a new site in town. I’m writing over at Aiming Low and couldn’t be more out of my league if I tried. These bitches are mothers and writers with like 4,000 twitter followers and an average of 50 comments per blog post.

So, to all my peeps: Check it out. Bookmark it. Make comments. I am super excited to be expanding my writing in a different space and hope you enjoy the other writers too.

And here we are. Last, but most certainly not least.

Whitney Morris.

My new sister.

The thing about getting married is that you get a whole new family. The better thing is if you actually feel like your new family includes people that you have something in common with or will look forward to seeing at holidays.

Whitney and Laef have always been close and in the beginning I am pretty sure that she didn’t like me because I was too short for Laef. And, not Too $hort as in too gansta for Laef. Literally, I did not meet the height requirement of the family.

Which is actually a good point. I look completely out of place in family photos and I think there’s some sort of code about short girls taking tall boys off the market for tall girls.

In the beginning when I was dating Laef, it was hard for me to establish a relationship with Whitney. We didn’t meet in person until Laef and I had been dating for almost a year. And on the night that I did meet her, I had been waiting at a bar for Laef to show up for nearly two hours. I was pissed he was late and drunk from waiting.

Bad combo.

And that was her first impression. Which took me at least two years to recover from.

Laef and I broke up about a month after that first meeting with Whitney, so things weren’t exactly the greatest.

What I have always appreciated and valued about Whitney is how much she cares for Laef and vice versa. So it kind of makes sense that I had to prove myself.

Which was hard because we were never able to hang out. She lived in Indy and we lived in Oregon/LA.

And then one weekend in 2007 it all changed. Whitney came to visit Laef in Sacramento, but he wasn’t back from a work trip yet. My friend, Amy L. and I were heading to San Francisco for a girls weekend and I decided to ask if Whit wanted to come.

So we headed to San Francisco, sat VIP with a couple of crazy characters, got free drinks all night, ordered way too much room service, drove all over SF with some randoms who went to their hotel room and put all of the alcohol from their mini-bar into a pillow case to bring to another hotel, in which the room was a delux suite that overlooked the city.

It was one of those nights that you can never plan and become epic slowly, but surely.

Since then, we have gotten to spend more time together including Christmas in Missouri, Whitney enjoying Art’s pink chicken (or at least the site of it) at my parents house, Whitney visiting LA and bringing a cactus leaf home from the bar, a visit to the Master Baiter – Bob’s Bait Shop, visiting her at The W hotel in Westwood where we ran on the treadmill for like 12 minutes and decided that was plenty, my bachelorette party and most importantly our wedding.

Mostly over the past two years, our relationship has grown over the phone. That is how we have gotten closer and realized that we come from different places, but at the end of the day, we’re both just two girls trying to figure out our way in the world. I listen to her stories about dating and some of the complications with that. She listens to my stories about living in domestication and fending of being stagnant in life.

The truth is, I wish she lived closer. I drag Laef to sushi or out for a post-work glass of wine to unwind and I think he’d rather be at home relaxing. If Whit was here, I bet we’d spend hours talking about everything from how much she loves The Little Couple to why guys play sick head games.

We’d talk about whatever sisters talk about.

It’s hard to know where to begin with this one.

I mean, the first time I met this girl I am pretty sure her husband tried to make us kiss and I sat on her lap the whole night.

I met Annett Malone through her husband Ben, who I have known for about 10 years.

I remember when Ben started talking about a girl he was dating and I was dying to know what kind of person could possibly handle his non-stop sarcasm and insane devotion to the Chicago Cubs.

Turns out she’s the sweetest kind of girl you’ll ever find and she quickly softened Ben.

I should probably remember the exact location of our first meeting, but the first 10 times we hung out are all sort of blending together. From the minute I met Annett I felt like she was a friend I had known for years.

We would drink and chat the night away, always outlasting our men. I only got to see her a few times in the early years as I was still living in Oregon when she and Ben started dating and they lived in San Diego.

But through Oregon softball and football road trips, I’d cross paths with them at least a couple of times a year.

I have always appreciated her carefree look on life and her positive attitude. I honestly don’t think I have ever heard her utter a negative thing about a single person. From time to time I would vent to her about Laef and I and would ask if Ben ever acted like a complete shit-for-brains only to have her smile and giggle.

I guess that’s a no. Or if it was a yes, she certainly wasn’t going to say it.

Sweet girl. But I totally know better.

Anywasted.

When Laef and I moved to Manhattan Beach in 2007, Ben and Annett were our only friends. They were a quick 1.5 hour drive away and we spent many weekends watching college football, going to the Manhattan Beach 6-Man, lounging around, going out for sushi and getting all sorts of crazy.

Well, Annett and I got crazy. Ben and Laef watched.

We’ve been to Dodger games, Karaoke, had Thanksgiving together, celebrated her wedding with a fabulous bachelorette party in Palm Springs, walked through the Carl’s Jr. drive through, rocked The Powerhouse in LA, kept each other company with a dinner of Halibut and grilled artichokes while Ben and Laef were in Tahoe, gone dancing with WAY too many shots at Beaches in Manhattan Beach and generally just encouraged each other to have the best possible time always.

She is one of my crafty friends who made the shoe bags for the wedding favors and who will be helping me make the bouquets on the wedding day.

Annett is always smiling or laughing.

And she makes me smile and laugh. Especially when she calls me today – a mere 8 days before the wedding – to inform me of a thumb injury.

I know it’s not funny and I shouldn’t be laughing at her pain, but if she is rocking this down the aisle, I will laugh.

But, let’s be honest. Angie Sit and Annett will bedazzle the shit out of that thing if she is still wearing it come wedding day.

These are supposed to be in alphabetical order.

But seeing as I’m the host and I’ve pretty much lost my brain, we’re mixing it up today.

Happy Birthday to my bridesmaid, Angie Sit.

If only I had remembered when I called her bright and early at 8 a.m. this morning.

I am sure she was thinking that I was calling to be the first to say Happy Birthday.

But, no.

I rattled off 2 million ideas about flowers, photos, wedding schedules, make-up, and who knows what else.

Everything but her birthday.

So you can imagine how far my heart sank when FACEBOOK reminded me of what I had forgotten. Yes, I have been too scatterbrained to even check my day-planner as religiously as I did two months ago.

Horrible feeling for many reasons.

I met Ang when I worked in Media Relations at Oregon and she worked in Marketing. We didn’t hang much when I first started working at Oregon. I was way too preoccupied with going to Rennie’s six nights a week and acting a crazy fool.

I am pretty sure that A. Sit wanted nothing to do with A. Ross.

As the years went by, we both worked at all of Oregon’s sporting events and eventually we shared a room on the Oregon football road trips. We also shared some of the same frustrations related to work and I would often trek to her office for good conversation.

It had nothing to do with the fact that she had a TV and candy in her office.

I loved rooming with Ang because she had the best make up and she was super neat and organized. I tried to pack my bag just like hers and have my make-up bag look all neat and pretty. Am I the only one whose make-up bag has blue eye shadow and lip stick stains all over?

Hers had none of that.

I slowly learned that even though Ang doesn’t drink much (I know what you’re thinking, WHY would she be friends with me) and doesn’t come off as a crazy party girl (or someone that would want to hang out with a crazy party girl) we have a lot in common.

We shared stories of boy troubles on our road trips, went running together, watched college football from the minute we woke up on Saturdays, suffered through the game-day drive to whatever stadium we were visiting (no matter what, we always got lost or my boss always almost crashed on the way home) and had tons of laughs.

I was constantly amazed at her ability to come out to the bars with the Oregon crew and tolerate all of the drunk people. She never crapped out, and always stayed until the bitter end.

She is one of the first people that helped me realize that even though I might think I’m too clustery, none of that stuff really matters if you meet good people.

Angie Sit is one of the most solid, caring, crafty, hilarious, in shape, die-hard Florida Gators fans I have ever met.

I don’t have crazy tales of us being lushy together, but I have plenty of memories of the Holiday Bowl (pretty sure Oregon went 10 times when I was there), riding with the top down in Aaron Fentress’ convertible, sushi dinners, softball press box weekends (Ang REALLY loved it when the softball players yelled up to the press box to tell her what songs to play) and dancing to Scott White Band at Sharks Cove.

She wears Florida Gator socks every Saturday during football season. She loves Jason Taylor and has finally realized that Ryan Reynolds is alright.

By far, she is one of the most thoughtful people I have ever met.

Put it this way.

One year, football was at a bowl game over Christmas break, including Christmas Day. Ang brought me a mini-Christmas tree with lights and a few presents to put in my hotel room.

She handmade me an apron for my bachelorette party.

I can call her at any hour of the day and talk about anything. We’ve both been through some ups and downs over the past 5 years, and I am so thankful that I have her to lean on.

Ang, Happy Birthday.

Heart.

The Bridesmaid’s stories are in no particular order.

OK, I lied. They’re in alphabetical order.

So, Missy Koke is up first. Which could also mean that I am doing the bridesmaid’s blogs in order of height.

Shortest to tallest.

Missy K. grew up in Eugene. She played softball at Oregon while I was a student there. Her dad drives the Duck on the back of a Harley before Oregon football games.

Missy was around Oregon athletics. I worked in the Oregon athletic department from 1999-2007.

I did not meet her until 2006. Which was 1) a total bummer and 2) un-effing believable considering the size of Eugene and the quaintness of Oregon athletics.

And, it was a total crapshoot that we even met.

It went something like this:

I went on a date with a guy.

The date didn’t go all that well. We went to the movies and watched Kangaroo Jack. I wrote a blog about it. But, I never mentioned him by name.

I then got a call on my cell phone one evening from Missy (I am still unclear as to who she got my number from).

Missy: “Um. I know who your blog is about!”
Me: “WHAT?”
Missy: “I know who Kangaroo Jack is!”
Me: “Meet me at Rennie’s in 10 minutes”

So, we met up and it turns out that she was actually dating this guy when I went out with him, but I had no idea, and she laughed it off because they were in some weird on-again off-again thing.

Anywasted, from that moment on, we were inseparable.

Two peas in one clusterfuck of a pod. She is the one person who might be more clustery than me.

If she wants to argue this, I will simply remind her that she just booked her flight for the wedding.

Today.

July 1.

Which means she paid a crapload for the ticket. She also did not book her hotel room and the deadline has passed. So rooms were no longer cheap.

Thus she is going to be sleeping with me for two nights, including the night before my wedding.

TOTAL cluster. Which is why I heart.

The truth is that Missy uses me. She calls me “free entertainment” which I am still trying to figure out is a good thing or a bad thing.

I also use her. To feel tall.

Because I moved to California in 2007, I only got to hang out with her for about a year.

We managed to squeeze a lot fun into that short time, capped by an epic trip to Portland in December 2006.

Which was precluded by Thanksgiving 2006 at Jane Moseley’s dad’s house. The night ended when Missy and I were scolded by Laef at 2-something in the morning.

Laef: “Seriously. Missy and Allison. You need to come inside and stop shotgunning beers. It’s 2 in the morning and it’s Thanksgiving.”

I think Jane was very appreciative of Laef’s words as she hadn’t envisioned Thanksgiving turning into Beerfest ’06.

Two clusters in a pod.

She also pulls shit like the following. Just before we were to leave for Portland one weekend this is what transpired:

Friday – 4:12 p.m.
Missy calls me.
Missy: “Hi. As soon as I find my ID, I’ll be by the Cas to pick you up.”
Me: “You better not be one of those friends that’s going to back out cuz you ‘can’t find your ID.’
Missy: “No, I’ll find it. I’ll be right over.

4:20 p.m.
A text from Missy: I’m heading to DMV and I’ll be right over.
A text to Missy: Are you fucking kidding me?

We were the dark-haired divas until I moved to California and completely screwed that up.

She is one of those people that I felt like I could always just be myself with (which is a common theme amongst my bridesmaids). I feel like deep down she appreciates me for the person I am. I have never felt that she judged some of my more idiotic decisions.

And, most importantly, Missy doesn’t really bring the drama. The only thing that girl wants to do is watch football, talk about boys, drink beer and laugh her ass off. She likes MAC makeup, running marathons and wearing Oregon T-shirts. She has a penchant for spendy jeans and high heels. She even made the trek to one of infamous camping trips.

She sounds just like someone else I know.