If you recently bought stock in Kleenex, you're welcome

The wedding was a raging success and Amit and James are MARRIED. I can't believe this. I mean I was there, I saw the Ketubah being signed, I know it happened, but STILL. They are MARRIED. Like real married, not pretend. I think this is pretty much how everyone feels. My favorite quote from this was when we were lining up to go down the aisle and Amit's youngest brother, who was behind me, said "This is so weird-James is going to be like my brother-in-law."

And to answer everyone's burning questions, here we go:

Times I cried (this one's for Leah, you asked!):
-Wednesday evening driving home from work when I wrote a toast in the car during my commute (God bless the traffic here, I get a lot done) and used my coffee mug as a champagne flute for practice.
-Before the rehearsal-ish/Shabbas dinner
-During the rehearsal-ish/Shabbas dinner (like 2, 3 times TOPS)
-Driving home from the rehearsal-ish/Shabbas dinner

-When the make-up lady at the Prescriptives counter made me look like a hooker/drag queen
-ALMOST when I saw Amit's hair and make-up done (there was no actual spillage of tears, this doesn't count)

-As soon as Amit got the dress on

-When Amit and James first saw each other

-When they signed the Ketubah (honestly, I started crying when James' witness signed it, and I didn't even know the dude).

-When Amit walked down the aisle

-The entire ceremony

-When Amit's dad spoke

-When I gave my toast

-When Lindsay gave her toast

I'm sure there were more. I was really insane. Basically, this is how I spent my night

-Crying

-Drinking (oh, here's a good story; someone at my table got us all shots of tequila, which I totally downed. Four minutes later I hear the band announce my name to give my toast. That could have gone very, very badly for me. Luckily the crying masked any possible word-slurrage.

-Hoisting my dress up; one of the bridesmaids, Shiri, and I were the only ones who left the trains on our dresses. Basically strangers kept on stepping on it and standing there, so I spent the evening draping it over my arm. AND doing the classy boob-tug thing; this was my first time wearing anything strapless since before puberty hit, for real. Granted, it could have been much worse (I think Natalie had to assure me that my dress wouldn't fall down while I walked down the aisle about 84 times a day in the past few months). But here's a lovely shot of me ruining a great Kodak moment:

Classy!

For more pictures, check out the facebook. If we're not friends on the facebook, add me. If you don't know what the facebook is, please, join me in the 21st century.

(Sorry, that was mean. Here are a few more to make up for the bitchiness)

Nice day for a white wedding...

Two of my favorite people in all of the land are joining forces today in holy matrimony. These are my hopes for the day:

-that I do not fall down the aisle and ruin the wedding

-that I don't sob hysterically and ruin the wedding

-that I don't forget anything and ruin the wedding

-that James doesn't accidentally say his part wrong, which apparently results in the rabbi being married to the bride, or something really crazy. Because that might kind of ruin the wedding (a tin bit).

I LOVE YOU, AMIT AND JAMES, AND I WISH YOU THE HAPPIEST, MOST FUN LIFE TOGETHER THAT TWO PEOPLE HAVE EVER HAD!!!

CH-CH-CH-CH-CHANGES

OH, HAPPY DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Turn, and face the strange. I know we still don't have total confirmation on the Senate, but the Democrats took back the House (first time in TWELVE years) and that's good enough. Because after my fellow Americans RE-ELECTED Captain Moron in 2004, I almost lost complete faith in him. The first time was enough; I could tell he was an idiot by the fact that he couldn't formulate words, but maybe everyone else in the country wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. But after he invented a fake war and lied about weapons, I really thought people would get the memo, and they did not. But everything's looking sunnier again! And I must refer to my dear friend Suzanne, whose away message last night was one of the best I've ever seen: "I'm choosing to take the the Spears-Federline breakup as a sign that people are making good decisions today".

Most of the Democrats who took over incumbent Republican seats are actually very, very moderate, some almost conservative- and that is FINE by me. Because I'm going to let you all in on a little secret: while threats to women's reproductie rights and the idea that two people who love each other can't get married and the whole stem cell debacle certainly suck, WE'VE GOT BIGGER ISSUES GUYS. The way the Republican party blew up the gay marriage thing to take attention away from the fact that we have invaded a country that had no weapons and has NO ties to al Qaeda should be construed as a hate crime. And the fact that some crazies don't "believe" in evolution won't matter when we're all bombed back into the Stone Age by North Korea.



Ok, enough. On to more important things. I have a new review on cube-side.com that I'm fairly sure is poorly written, but whatevs.



Also, Britney? Mazel-tov.

"Meet Your Candidates, Virginia" or "Dumb and Dumber"

Election day is upon us. The other day I went to see Borat, and almost threw up when I realized that the scene with the rodeo was full of people who would be voting for my next Senator ( if you saw it, were you shocked that was VA as well? I went to school in the Midwest, and they made those folks look like cultured elitist snobs). Old Dominioners ( I've been hanging around with 4th graders who are doing VA history in social studies, I'm swimming in factoids), meet your glorious, stunning candidates:

GEORGE ALLEN, Republican. He's just a good ole', down-home, Southern boy from...Cali. Allegedly made racist comments about African Americans when he was. Known for having a noose in his office when he practiced law (I don't know how one could possible connect that with the lynchings of black people that is part of our state's illustrious past). Used an impressively obscure racial slur in PUBLIC at a rally that was caught on video tape a few months back. Last week, his staffers were videotaped slamming a non-violent protester into a glass door. Just in time for the High Holy Days, us chosen folks were as stunned as Allen was himself to discover that his mother was Jewish. We were even more stunned when he reacted to this revelation by stating "Don't worry, I ate a ham sandwich on the way over here." Oh, we're not worried Georgie. We've dealt with the likes of Roseanne Barr, we'll deal with you too.

JIM "LESSER OF TWO EVILS" WEBB, Democrat. Possibly sexist, definitely not experienced enough for the job. Has publicly made less than friendly comments about the fairer sex. He also has hair like a Brilo pad and appears to be both boring and annoying at the same time.

Inspirational, no? But the Democrats need to take the Senate if we have any hopes of getting some kind of checks and balances in place. I predict that Webb takes it, but it won't be a land-slide either way. I'm so psyched for this, I am watching election results all night. This is better than the Oscars, and with greater fashion faux-pas and excessive bitchiness.

Baby, you can drive my car...

...but I'll need a signed waiver first, as it will probably explode and possibly kill you.

Which is precisely why I have been car-shopping lately. Car-shopping makes me want to die. Because car salespeople? Are the smarmiest, grossest people in all of the land (uh, sorry if you are one). And this is coming from a girl who has two lawyers for parents and spent her formative years hanging out with anti-trust (ha, the irony of that name) attorneys.

The following is an actual quote from the manager of some Honda place when I attempted to look at CRV's:

"Well, I'd love to put you in a car tonight. And the more I can pay you for your car and the less I can charge you for mine, the better, am I right? Yuk yuk yuk."


BARF.


Now, I never went to business school, but I'm fairly certain that something's off in that equation. At least something's off if you're planning on making a living and paying bills, you jackass. I am looking to purchase a car from you- clearly I understand that I will be giving you money for this car and CLEARLY your goal is to make money from this transaction. Also, I just explained to you I was JUST starting to look at cars. I am not going to purchase one from you before you close in 40 minutes. A $20,000 vehicle REALLY shouldn't be an impulse purchase.

I think the problem is that I hate bull-shit, and I hate fake people. I REALLY hate meaningless small-talk and when someone pretends to care about me. So a car dealership is basically the absolute worst place for me to hang out.

Anyway, today I went to look at a Saturn dealership, and let me tell you seriously, I wanted to buy a car right then and there just because the people working there were SO less gross. They have fixed prices, so they don't ask you asinine questions like "so, how much were you looking to spend?" (um, as little as possible, tool-io). I've been going around with my father, who has been kind enough to put up with my complete lack of car knowledge. Seriously, these are actual questions I've asked and things I've said since this process began:

"What's a horsepower?"
"What's a cylinder?"
"What's MSRP?"
"Can we keep Big Red? Like just park him out on the street, so I can visit him occasionally?"
"I like the gear shift to be down between the seats, so I can pretend to be driving a manual"

Whatever, I'm excited. But it will be really weird to drive a car that won't break every 4 hours. What the hell will I do with all my time and money???

HAPPY (belated) HALLOWEEN

Scaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaary!

This was my first Halloween in HALF A DECADE that I haven't been on a college campus, so I was shocked to discover that the holiday is more about going to neighbor's houses to get candy, and less about going to the neighborhood bar to get candy-flavored liquor. Also, were you aware that costumes are typically scary and not skanky? I was shocked. I really missed seeing how creative people can be by making seemingly innocuous occupations suddenly risque (i.e. "Sexy Nurse", "Sexy Firefighter", "Sexy Janitor", "Sexy Cable-Repair Person").

I have a confession, though. I totally dressed up my dog. But because he is gigantic, none of those store-bought costumes would fit on him and I didn't want to give him a complex or make him feel fat, so I opted for fairy wings (yes, he's a male dog, no, I don't see anything wrong with putting pink fairy wings on him because he is the biggest dog on the block and if the other animals in the neighborhood start spreading rumors about his masculinity, I'm fairly certain he can take them). We got literally FIVE trick or treaters (our house is off a pipe stem, on a private drive), two in one group and three in another. The group of three were guys that were taller than me, and had to be pushing 20. I have a motto about this: "If you have cleavage in your costume or had to shave in order to put on that mask, you are too old to be knocking on my door and demanding candy".

Maybe it was my lack of make-up that scared the children away...

Before you cry "animal cruelty!", the dog DID NOT EVEN REALIZE HE HAD THE WINGS ON. Seriously, he's not the sharpest tool in the box, and he didn't even know until I took them off of him, and then he tried to eat them.

Max, waiting for the trick or treaters that never came. It's important to note that I wore these wings one year at school, and I have super-broad man shoulders, but they BARELY fit him. He's like a horse, for serious.

blogging bytes

I have many disjointed things scurrying through my little brain (much like that horrifically disturbing mouse with the ear attached to it's back that terrified me on Nip/Tuck this week). Let's do some housecleaning, shall we?

1. I've discovered and isolated a New Pet Peeve, and here it is: when people look at my feet when I am wearing tall boots (this never seems to happen with heels, just boots) and say "Geez, Jenn. Like you need the height or something". I find this pertains especially to my Giant Gestapo-meets-90's-grunge-movement Black Sketcher Boots that put me at like 6'1-ish (they are platform-y. Wow, I've made them sound hideous and crazy, no? But they're totally cute and normal looking, really). I HATE this because it makes no sense. Do short women wear heels just so they can like reach things off of high shelves? Why don't they just master the delicate art of stilt-walking? And then they can dress like Uncle Sam and walk around fairs and carnivals freaking people the hell out and forcing me to resist the urge to try and tip them over, and that's very hard for me sometimes.


2. I had a crush on Tom Petty when I was 12 and obsessed with his CD "Wildflowers"-actually, I had a tape that I played in my electric yellow Walkman, as I am old.

Then one day I was like "oh, hey dad, I've just discovered this great new musician named Tom Petty, you probably have never heard of him as he is very cutting edge and I am a super cool 90's kid and you are old" and he was like "Um, Jennifer, he's older than me, and he's been around since the 70's" and then I was like "oh, whatever, I don't even care, I will go listen to my Spin Doctors and UB40 tapes because those bands are awesome and will surely stand the test of time (I had both of those tapes as well, thankssoverymuch)", but I never stopped loving Tom Petty. Look how pretty he was about 10 years before I was born! Note: this little factoid doesn't have much to do with anything, I just founded the picture and needed a vehicle through which to display it.

3. In a previous blog post, I erroneously referred to my dear friend Natalie as lacking in class because she disliked a classy movie and pretends to "bake" pies by pouring pre-made Jell-o into a pre-made pie crust and claiming to be Wolfgang Puck. Clearly, I was very, very wrong. I would like to extend a formal retraction, and not because she has been yelling at me and whining about the blog post for like 8 days straight now. Because I was wrong. She is very, very, very, VERY classy. She is also batshit crazy. But NEVER un-classy!

4. Ok, in #3 I called Natalie "batshit crazy". This is not true either. She is only mildly crazy. Let's say 37% crazy, and the rest percent that I refuse to calculate is crazy FUN (as in where else would I find someone who says "sure, let's go!" in reference to driving to French Lick, IN, driving to Cincinnati from Bloomington for ONE DAY just to go shopping, and driving to the movie theater to see School of Rock. For the 43nd time).

5. I also must say hello (or extend a "shout-out", as the kids say these days) to Ariel, who was in town this weekend and joined me and the ever-so-classy Natalie (NOT SARCASTIC!! SARSERIOUS!!!) for a less than classy dinner last night. Ariel, who reads my blog and always says nice things about it even though she has a far more interesting life, has funny stories to tell regarding candy corn being caught in places where candy corn shouldn't, and would probably never be caught dead wearing what I am wearing right now to type this entry (a turquoise, inside-out Indiana t-shirt, men's Abercrombie sweatpants that I am not sure from where I procured, a neon-green headband, and zit-cream, in case you needed a visual. Also, on an un-related note, how come no one ever tells you that you will sometimes need zit-cream after your teens? This is a dirty secret that no one wants to discuss. So now I have to worry about moisturizing my wrinkles and clearing up pimples. FABULOUS).

I even used a guillotine-related pun!

So allegedly I have this gig (YES! I have been waiting to use that word for like 15 years now) writing movie/tv reviews for a website. They'll run every other Wednesday, and you can find the first one here. It's on Marie Antoinette, which I loved but Natalie hated. Look, everyone is entitled to their own tastes, but I will say this: one of us is notoriously classy than the other, and it's not the one who "baked" a pie by pouring already-made jello pudding into a pie-crust and serving it to me and Eric...

Something to consider:

-Maybe don't wear the "ultra low-rise" jeans on the day that you have to do CPR training. It's hard to un-obstruct an airway when you're worrying about exposing your underwear to the entire room.

Also, if I am ever in the position to have to help a chocking infant? I will need to be hospitalized for a nervous breakdown shortly after. No joke, I literally almost started crying just from practicing with the doll. I don't want to hit a baby in the back with the heel of my hand, ever.

On an unrelated note, I have no clue what those candy corn pumpkins are made of (nor do I care to find out), but they're pretty much my most favorite unidentified food item.

THERE ARE NO TOMATOES WHERE THERE SHOULD BE AND THE CHANCES OF ME MARRYING T.R. KNIGHT ARE SLIM TO NONE

or "WHY THIS DAY SUCKS MORE THAN OTHER DAYS"

...is what I say to today (the expression is a charming melee of "scared", "sad", and "goddamnit, now my lips are trying to escape my face, what more could possibly go wrong?").

1. Subway ran out of tomatoes. Could the 10 year old kid making my VEGETARIAN sub have told me this when I first told him that the sandwich would consist solely of vegetables? ONE WOULD THINK. I just ate lettuce, onions, and honey mustard on bread (ooo, want to make out? I bet my breath is kicking).

2. A guy at Starbucks STOLE MY COFFEE (today was rough for me and restaurants). The lady who made my drink called out "tall, nonfat, no-whip white chocolate mocha" (shut up, I drank it black when I was 15-trying for some growth stunt-age action- I'm allowed to drink frilly things now) and this guy grabbed it and peaced out the door. I thought it was weird that he ordered the exact same thing, but whatev. Then they called "sugar-free blah blah blah" and I knew then that my coffee had been abducted and I was left with the order of an old bald guy (not that there's anything wrong with that- I'm just giving you a physical description in case you see this dude and you can steal my coffee back from him and then maybe give him a kick to the face or something for retribution).

3. I went to look at cars ( I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and Big Red totally knew about it and was a total bitch to me and almost left me stranded in the middle of the forest on a winding, scary road. Seriously, anyone know what to do when a car vibrates, shakes, and then revs it's engine by itself and then flashes the 4-wheel drive lights on and off? No? Ok, then be prepared to see me driving in this one when I am 80 and everyone else is flying in hovercrafts.

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple streudels...

These are a few of my favorite things!

Favorite Flavor

Favorite Coconut Soap

Favorite Monument

Favorite George Harrison (30-something, post Beatles George)

Favorite Flowers (calla lillies, but no one has ever given them to me EVER!)

( ok, not my all-time favorite perfume but it was discontinued and then I found it on Grand Cayman so I'm kind of in love with it all over again)

Favorite Beatles Album/Favorite Creepy Album Cover

Orbit Sweet Mint, Favorite Gum

Favorite Smell, And Favorite Way To Avoid Skin That Looks Like A Coach Bag

Favorite Piece Of Crap SUV

Favorite Substitute Teacher

Favorite Badass Guitar God

Favorite Brother

Favorite Makeup-less Photo Of Myself (And The Only One That Will Ever See The Light Of Day)

Favorite Drink (Margarita, rocks NOT frozen, and sometimes I just crave the salt)

A quick one (while he's away, if you're a Who fan...)

Oh no, I crossed the line into 60's/70's rock dork-itude with that title, didn't I? Anyway, I need a reality check. I was just watching "American Justice" (ok, I watch it every single time it is on and Tivo all episodes. Bill Kurtis narrates my dreams), and a prosecutor just said this:

"Who among us can honestly say that we've never grabbed our child by the arm, or thrown a child on a bed?"

Ooooookay, so. I grew up around children, until 2 years ago there was always a kid under 10 in my house. I've also worked with children for like 10 years. So I'm not sure if I have a different perspective or what, but seriously? Seriously?! Ok, to the first one: um, hopefully all of us in this imaginary poll can say we've never done that. Do people really not know that the only time when it is ok to grab a kid by the arm is when there is like a bus about to hit him, or he is dangling off a cliff (and if either of those things happen while you're in charge, you are NOT A GOOD GUARDIAN). NEVER ever ever ever pick a child up by the arm; kids, especially young ones, get dislocated shoulders/injured elbows (nursemaid's elbow, grotesquely named) like it's their job (eww, what a terrible career choice). You really shouldn't even do that thing in movies where two parents are walking on the beach with their kid, each holding an arm while the child swings in between them and maybe their Golden Retriever frolics in the waves of the ocean.

As for the second question... I can't even think of an emergency situation where it is ok to hurl your child onto the bed. Unless, like, the carpet was on fire. In which case you should probably be fleeing the room.



People are ridiculous.

We're bringing haberdashery back...

Something to note: when my mom took this picture, she actually said to me "what's up with the chin"? I know I've got a little Leno going on, but still, let's not be mean about it. Plus Caroline and I were going for the "ghetto" look that all the kids like these days (I'm not sure how my sister got the Kangol and I ended up wearing something that was forgotten and left under the table at the Mad Hatter's tea party, though).

Oh, Internet, I'm getting sick (I believe it's unrelated to that hat, but who's to say). I'm sitting here with my 18th cup of chamomile tea, nyquil, claritin, Flintstone's vitamins (NO JUDGMENT, find me a grown-up multi-vitamin without fish oil in it and we'll talk), and echinacea/goldenseal capsules that I bought a few months ago at Whole Foods and I SWEAR TO GOD, PEOPLE they work. They work, work, work. Note my confidence in the fact that I, a Journalism major who only passed science classes by the grace of God and a hell of a lot of tutoring, can cure the common cold that modern medicine can not.

Tradition

The open collar is a bit much, no? Why cover the head if you're going to expose the hairy man cleavage, my Jewish brother? 'Tis hardly kosher...

So Fiddler on the Roof was on yesterday (Sundance channel employee #1: so, it's that Jew holiday today...Sundance channel employee #2: we must have some Jewish movie somewhere that we can put on for them to enjoy while they are all in synagogue and without televisions) and I totally Tivo-ed it. Because I hadn't seen it in a billion years and as a Jew I am required to watch it every time it is on and then feel guilty about something. Some observations:

1. There's a scene where Tevye is at some farm getting milk and cheese. And there's a pig. Now, why would there be a pig at a Jewish farm? Maybe I'm missing some obvious reason, but I can't quite figure it out.

2. I love that Starsky (or is it Hutch? I get confused) is in it, looking all Steve Guttenberg-esque and helping the community to break thousand year-old codes/laws concerning modesty and conduct (dancing with the middle, doughy-faced daughter? Ooooooh, so un-cool, man. And tricking the rabbi into dancing and TOUCHING the daughter, eeek-for you goys out there, ultra-orthodox won't shake hands/even allow their arms to accidentally touch a member of the opposite sex).

3. I find Topol a liiiiitle tiny bit attractive (it might be the hot dance moves, though, who's to say).

4. Why do the non-Jewish Russians all have super thick accents, but the Jewish Russians, who live 4 minutes down the dirt road, almost all speak like Americans?

Maybe I have way too much time on my hands (whatever, when you can't eat or drink or do fun things, sometimes you have to watch musicals, it's just a fact).

Yom Kippur: The Greatest Hits

Google Yom Kippur images and this will come up. I think it's fairly awesome.

In honor of the impending Day of Atonement, I present you with great moments of Yom Kippur past:

-Y.K. 1996- my algebra teacher suggests that "all you Jewish kids can get together on your DAY OFF and do the project at the library". I have to educate the 673 year old woman and tell her that a.) we are in synagogue literally all day, b.) I don't write, and my parents won't drive on the holiday, c.) I'll be too busy asking God to LET ME LIVE ANOTHER YEAR and d.) you suck and it's making me sad.

-Y.K. 1993-ish- because I am not of fasting age yet, I go over to my partner-in-crime's house (duh, Karlyn, who else did I cause trouble with back in the day) where we invent a game that involved standing on chairs in her basement and hitting some kind of beach ball back and forth, resulting in me falling down (I know, I wasn't always this graceful) and chipping a tooth.

-Y.K. 200Idon'tremember-I sleep through Neilah (or however one might choose to spell it), wake up at like 11 at night, stand up, then almost fall over and die because the fast is long over and it's been like 30 hours since I've had food or water.


Have an easy fast, chosen kids, and a happy new year!