I daydream a lot. A LOT. When I’m not imagining myself time
traveling back to medieval England or
thinking of a future where credit card and mortgage bills have been rendered
obsolete due to some type of apocalyptic event, you can find me singing, baking,
or typing real fast (and watching TV).
Sadly, after watching the no damn budget episode of “Say Yes to the
Dress”, it’s come to my attention that I need to focus more on the present day and
start thinking of ways to bolster my cash reserves. Not because I want a dress that costs more
than what I made last year with cookie sales, singing gigs, and part-time office
work combined – oh no, no no - that’s just
silly.
No. It’s because I
want to have a wedding in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle at Disneyland!
http://www.wesh.com/themeparks/disney/13347922#!M7QvQ
So, so pretty, right? And it only costs this much: $125,000.
The ceremony can’t start until after the park closes, and it
has to be during the off-season…so let’s say 9:00 pm on a Monday night with the
reception starting at about 10. I admit that’s kind of a little bit – ok a lotta
bit late – BUT as a guest at an ultimate once in a lifetime fairytale wedding
at Disneyland, will you really be complaining about having to get up early for
work on Tuesday morning when you and Mickey are busy taking selfies and sipping
on gin and juice together out of a glass slipper? I think not.
Of course I’m kidding (I. Am. So. Not. Kidding). $125,000?!? I don’t even know if that price
includes food and the Major Dodo guy from Cinderella.
Major Domo: head steward of a large household (like a palace)
A girl can dream.
Anyway, that stupid show.
When I start thinking about the process of trying on a mountain of
dresses and buying one with a limited number of dollars that some rich crazies probably
use as toilet paper for fun (U.S. bills are made of a soft cotton, linen, and cocaine blend so what's the harm other than hepatitis), I feel a very familiar butt pucker set in,
signaling the arrival of own major dodo. I’m happy to know, though, that they
can at least MacGyver a dress together to give you an idea of what you’ll look
like after it’s tailored to heck and back. Now all I need to complete my life
is to pull an Incredible Hulk move in the dressing room (basically exhale) and
bust through the confines of all the duct tape, bungee cords, and chip bag
clips it’ll take to keep all of me tucked in.
Yeah, I know I can be hard on myself with this weight
business, but believe me, I know the difference between self-deprecation and
self-defecation, and I know when to take a step back from punching myself in
the face – although – there was an
article in the Daily Mail yesterday that talked about how tapping on various
parts of your face for 15 minutes a day
can help you lose weight. A group of some 89 women lost an average of 16 pounds
in 8 weeks doing this crazy shit. Wow,
that's easy! If you see me walking around tapping myself in public, pay me no
mind. I’m just working on my fitness.
Sigh. I’m constantly searching for motivation and find it in
the weirdest of places. Probably because the weirdest of shit always seems to happen to me. I think back on the time I almost became an international fit
model after being approached by a man of
indeterminate ethnic origin at the grocery store behind my
house.
Man: Excusing me,
Miss. Meess – I am photographer. I taking the peectures of chenky woman. I
giving you my card. Ees ok?
Me: Sir, I am not Chinese.
Man: No, no – I no saying Chinese. Chenky. Chanky. Choonky. Woman with curve.
Me: Well in that case. How much do you pay? What?! I pay YOU?
Needless to say, it
didn’t work out because I am not an international fit model today. But did I let it keep me down? Of course not. I instead became my own photographer, taking a bunch
of before without after shots throughout the years that unfortunately were lost
due to someone forgetting our camera in a Chevy rental down in Orlando, Florida a few
years ago. Thanks, Nate! Somewhere out
there in the world are pictures of me looking quite serious while striking
various muscle poses in a pink sports bra and bright green Adidas shorts. I routinely scour the internet for said photos and am always expecting some kind
of ransom email from the Central Bank of Nigeria to drop in my inbox, but so
far so good. It's just my monthly statements saying that I need to keep sending them money before they can release the $10 million they promised me.
So back to the dress - I’m excited but wary of how much time and
energy to spend on the experience. I
spill food on myself at least twice an hour so it’s probably not a good idea to
go baller. Plus, I pride myself on
having NOT ONE article of clothing that requires dry cleaning and I’m not about
to start now. Also, I freely admit to having zero fashion sense (you hem, I
staple), so what may seem nice to ME will probably not really be nice. So many things! My mom is going to have SO
MUCH FUN shopping with me.
I guess the
first step is continuing on with my healthy eating and exercise. It would probably
be good to invest in some Spanx too, or create my own homemade version of them
since I’m also trying to save money. You
can do a lot with staples, I’m telling you.
I survived Mother’s Day 2014, so I can survive shopping –
one of my least favorite things to do unless it involves food or books. I look forward
to sharing the experience with my mom no matter how crazy mad she will get when
I refuse to wear anything but flip-flops and pretend to be the Incredible Hulk
in the dressing room. I would have wanted to do the same with my own girl. How I wish I could.
Life sure is crazy, but on it goes.
Oh, and if we do end up winning all of the Powerballs and
Megamillions and Super Lottos, YOU ARE ALL SO INVITED TO OUR WEDDING AT DISNEYLAND!
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