- I want a dozen Olive Garden breadsticks for dinner. 04:56:04 PM August 01, 2015 ReplyRetweetFavorite
- Showed up at the start line to cheer for my #NP_NYC team. Ended up registering at the last minute and… https://t.co/KiUPrJnKeo 10:34:20 AM August 01, 2015 ReplyRetweetFavorite
- Moon #onfleek. 08:46:22 PM July 31, 2015 ReplyRetweetFavorite
- October 26, 2012 by AliPlease Let Me Make Your Day (That Means A Giveaway!)
- June 15, 2012 by AliMonday. 9 AM. Get Sweaty. (And For Now: A Giveaway!)
- August 10, 2012 by AliTake My Sweat (It's A Giveaway & It's Not Gross)
- May 25, 2012 by AliDo You Want Free Sneakers? (Translation: A Giveaway!)
- July 9, 2013 by AliEmbrace The Sweat (An "I Heart Sweat" Shirt Giveaway!)
- July 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
- April 2015
- March 2015
- February 2015
- January 2015
- December 2014
- November 2014
- October 2014
- September 2014
- August 2014
- July 2014
- June 2014
- May 2014
- April 2014
- March 2014
- February 2014
- January 2014
- December 2013
- November 2013
- October 2013
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- June 2013
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
- March 2012
- February 2012
- January 2012
- December 2011
- November 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- April 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
There's A First Time For Many Things
How are you?
Good. I’m glad.
I hope your weekend was splendid.
Mine was. I was in Charlotte, NC, watching my best friend get married!
Along the way I experienced many “firsts.” Now I will tell you about them.
It was my first time attending a bridal luncheon. Here in the north, tradition usually just involves a bridal shower and bachelorette party sometime before the bride says “I Do.” But I guess in the southern states, the bride sometimes throws a bridal luncheon, and that’s what Becky did, so she could “thank all the women in her life.”
You’re welcome. Thanks for the lunch!
The event was low-key, and it was basically the bridal party and the bride’s lady relatives. We ate, Becky gave us presents (Lululemon outfits!) and then I ate a little more.
It was the first time I got a shellac manicure. I don’t get manicures. I’ve had two or three in my entire life, because I just don’t get the point in spending money to have someone paint my nails when we all know I’m going to chip it and mess it up within five minutes of throwing down my debit card. There are better investments for me to make. But for a wedding, you make an exception, and that’s what I did this weekend. The other bridesmaids were all, “Are you going to get shellac?” and I was all, “Can you speak in English, please?”
So apparently (I’m aware you all know this already, but it was new to me) you can get this kind of manicure called a “shellac manicure” where it’s like a gel polish and your nails dry right there, quickly, at the nail salon. By the time you leave, you don’t have to be all awkward trying not to chip it. And, turns out, it looks pretty shiny and nice, too. And I haven’t chipped it yet. Good to know.
It was the first time I signed a marriage license. When Becky asked me to be her maid of honor, the first thing I asked her was if I would get to sign the marriage license. I was oddly excited about this. Maybe it’s because it’s a document that Becky will have for the rest of her life, and it’ll have my name on it, too, so that basically means she has to be my friend forever.
I even tried to make my signature look nice instead of just scribbling it like I usually do.
It was the first time I had to get up at a church and read something. This was slightly terrifying. I am in no way afraid of public speaking. I love it, actually. But when Becky’s original reader started going into labor and stuff, Becky thought maybe she should have a backup plan, and that was to have her maid of honor do two of the Catholic readings.
Yes, the half-Jew was the chosen one…to speak in church.
I practiced a few times, and I got through it fine during the ceremony. My dad told me he was going to start the wave during my reading, but he didn’t. Apparently that’s not good church etiquette. Bummer. I think it would have been fun.
It was the first time I planned to run and then didn’t and was mostly OK with it. Friday morning I woke up planning to run. I spent the morning in the bathroom instead and then didn’t have time to go out. Saturday morning, Becky and I were going to run a “Bridal 5K” (the two of us running 3.1 miles, untimed, before going to the hair salon), but my stomach hurt too much to do that, either. Ultimately, not running all weekend was OK by me. I got some extra rest that my body probably needed and no one died. Crazy.
It was the first time I was unhappy with something and asked for it to be re-done. I never send back food at a restaurant and if I get a bad haircut I’m not likely to speak up. But on Saturday morning, I wasn’t thrilled with how the hairstylist did my hair, and after fighting back tears (I’ve told you once and I’ll say it again, I am not dramatic!!!) I decided to go back to the lady and ask her to change it. I’m so glad I did, because I was much happier with my hair afterward. The initial hairstyle involved slight cornrows, which shockingly is not a good look on me.
It was my first time being Maid of Honor!
It was tough being far away from Becky during all the wedding preparation and planning, and I hated that. I tried to be as involved as possible, but it’s just hard not being there in person for most things, like the dress fittings and, most importantly, the wedding cake tastings. I always felt like I was missing out on something, but this weekend I got to be by Becky’s side for every single thing that happened, including every time she had to pee during the ceremony and needed to have her dress held up.
I felt very important this weekend, especially at the ceremony when everyone knew me as the Maid of Honor. Nice to meet you, too, people! Thanks for coming!
But really, it was awesome standing up there with the girl I’ve known since we were three and watching her get married. I took many of my tasks very seriously, like making sure her train was perfectly straight and arranged while she was at the altar.
It was my first time decorating a wedding cake. Oh that’s right. When we arrived at the reception site, the photographer informed the bridal party that “the cake wasn’t decorated” and that we would have to do it. She gave us a bunch of hydrangeas and we went to town arranging them all over the cake. The only downfall was that, in the aggressive decorating process, I managed to dip my left boob into the cake. The cake came out unharmed, but I had frosting on my dress for much of the evening. Delicious.
It was my first time giving a wedding toast! I loved this part. In the days leading up to the wedding, every time I mentioned giving a toast to Brian he would ask, “Are you going to try to be funny?” I think he was afraid that I’d attempt some jokes and they would be lame and no one would laugh and then he’d be “the guy at the wedding with the tragic girlfriend.” But the toast was a hit! Or at least, that’s what everyone told me afterward. People can be so nice.
It was fun standing up there with Becky and John and telling them all my thoughts, like about how I like John because he’s kind and charming, but really all I care about is the fact that he’s tall. People laughed at all the right parts. Success!
It was my first time attending a wedding with Brian. Turns out, he’s a great date. He had to be on his own a lot while I was off doing wedding things, but he showed up at all the right times and was great at the drinking, eating and dancing.
My parents came down for the wedding, too, which was awesome, and they kept Brian entertained when I was off doing important things like dipping my boob in cake. And they definitely showed everyone up on the dance floor.
Everything went totally smoothly all weekend, and now the bride and groom are off to St. Lucia and I’m back in NYC where it is completely downpouring. Lovely!
Brian and I flew out early yesterday morning and were back in the city by noon. I really wanted to do some form of exercise after being quite gluttonous all weekend, but my stomach is still in super-Crohn’s mode. I’m annoyed, but I’m trying to be all chill about it, because Crohn’s likes stress, and I’m not stressed. Right?
Unfortunately, being sick did play a pretty major role in the weekend. I felt like I was constantly running off to a bathroom, and I didn’t get to partake in the, “I’m at a wedding so I’m as drunk as possible” fun. I did still have a kickass time, that’s for sure, but it would have been even better without a rumbling stomach.
So I wanted to run yesterday, but I was legitimately scared. I knew that if I had any expectations, I wouldn’t meet them, and then I’d get upset. I knew I’d probably have to run slowly, and I knew bathroom stops were likely. It was late in the day, it was hot, and Central Park was going to be more crowded than usual.
It was the first time I just did my best and let that be good enough. Before I went out, Brian said, “Just do your best, and that will be good enough.” I always laugh at motivational crap like this, but yesterday I kind of embraced it. Yes, I had to make several bathroom stops, and yes, my later miles were significantly slower than my early miles. But I ended up doing my first double-digit run in well over a month (with no shin pain!). I ran 10 miles, and they were really tough, but I did it and I felt damn good afterward.
I was pretty sore and tired last night, and this morning I did some Yoga On Demand, and it turns out no, I cannot touch my toes. Pathetic.
It was also the first time I made an urgent bathroom stop in a church. What up, Sarah? The lines for all the park bathrooms were crazy long with tourists, so I bolted out of the park, found a holy place and thanked God for lending me his lavatory.
Finally, today marks the first time I have been in a relationship with someone for one year and not had any doubts about it. It’s been one year since I sent Brian a drunk little Facebook message saying, “Hey neighbor,” and one year since our first date.
Usually by the time I’ve hit the one-year mark with someone, we’ve gotten in plenty of fights, and I start to get a little annoyed by every single thing that person does, including breathing. But we’re one year in, and I still think Brian is the coolest guy I know. Happy Anniversary, Bri. Thanks for being so funny and pushing me to be a better person. Keep it up. I’ll try to keep the Crohn’s at bay.
That’s all for now!