I’m going to go ahead and give myself a gold star for today because I totally deserve it.

Itemized the 2009 P&L for our condo association.

Created the 2010 budget for our condo association.

Wished my dad a happy birthday.

Wrote out a cute thank you note and included a picture of me and the recipient in the card.

Inhaled a BLT and slathered the french fries with ketchup.

Finalized the seating arrangement for the wedding.

Identified the committed new volunteers for this year’s burn.

Created a one pager with every guest’s name with the table where they’re sitting.  Made 5 copies for people to assist.

Booked the photographer for our church wedding tomorrow.

Finalized details with the catering manager.

All of that on top of doing my job.

Booyah!

Am I the only one who absolutely loved Sex and the City 2?  I can’t be since my two girlfriends who saw it with me also really enjoyed it.  We were constantly giggling in our seats—throughout the movie.  The fact that it’s getting pummeled by critics is a huge surprise to me.  Also, two other friends hated it.  They said it was 2.5 hours of boredom.  What?!?!  I don’t get it.

I liked the first one because it was SATC in movie form.  Period.  I love the fashion.  I love New York City.  Yet I thought it was hokey.  Carrie’s left at the altar, then she and Big reunite for a happy ending?  Puke-puke.  And that’s the same guy who treated her like a rag doll throughout the series?  Really?

SATC2 I thought was believable—totally relatable.  Miranda feeling squashed in her job.  Carrie losing the sparkle in her marriage.  Miranda suffering from hot flashes.  Charlotte struggling as a mother.  For once, I saw myself in each of them: not feeling appreciated in my career, not having the perfect relationship, experiencing hot flashes already even though I still consider myself pretty young, and motherhood—dare I even go there?  Crying babies make me cringe.  When Charlotte had a mini-breakdown and locked herself in the pantry, I was right there with her.  I ain’t even a mommy!

Critics think it was one long aimless romp to the Middle East.  So what?  That’s hot!  People go on vacation.  Yes, friends can leave NYC.  Yes they can.  There is a whole world out there to explore.  Geez.

This is a rare instance when the sequel has been better than the first.  Anyone see how bad Ironman 2 was?  I’m looking forward to SATC3.  I think they’re getting better with age.  You go girls.

Gorgeous day in the city today.  We were all over town, running errands and eating.  I can’t help it.  I just love to stuff my face. Back again to IHOP for eggs, bacon, hash browns, and fluffy pancakes.  Nopalito for a late lunch of taquitos, gorditas, and tacos. Passionfruit cupcakes from Kara’s.  And, of course, more drinking.

We went to Bin 38 wine bar.  The hostess asked if we were there for dinner (no), in which case we could find a seat at the bar. There were no available seats at the bar. Half the tables inside were empty with tented reserved signs on them.  In the back patio, crowds were sipping wine and getting their dose of Vitamin D.  I found one empty table.  No reserved sign.  While waiting to place my order, the hostess came by and said, “This table is actually reserved.  You’ll need to move.”

“I don’t get it.  Half the tables inside are empty, yet they’re reserved.  Now you’re telling me to move because this table is reserved too.”

“These tables are reserved for people who are coming.”

“Oh really?  Let me know when those tables up front get filled up.  But for now I’ll be here.  Thanks.”  I went back to reading the wine list.

There was absolutely no reason for her to move me.  As I mentioned, there were plenty of empty reserved tables. Was she expecting a horde of Marina denizens to suddenly inundate the restaurant?  That’s what’s infuriating.  These automatons without brains follow some ridiculous playbook of rules.

Which brings me to the wedding industry.  Now I knew I would get a lot of comments about my previous post.  Every bride or groom or bride’s family has the right to spend money any way they choose.  I get that.  I drive a dented jalopy with Burning Man bumper stickers and buy out Safeway’s stock of Lean Cuisines when they go on sale, but I also eat out a lot.  I’m a city girl who likes to try all the new restaurants, eat pommes frites, and drink glasses and glasses of wine.  My rant is really on the industry.

Chew on this.  I did a lot of research on venues.  One vision was a church wedding at the oh-so-beautiful Swedenborgian, pickup by the Mexican Party Bus, stop at Fisherman’s Wharf In-N-Out for burgers, then on to a cocktail reception with 360 degree views of the city at the DeYoung Observation Tower.  Are you with me?  What a dream wedding, right?  I contacted the DeYoung who partners with exclusive caterers for the museum.  At this juncture in the wedding planning process, I wanted to conduct an experiment.  What would the outcome be if I said it was for a wedding versus another type of event.  Can you guess the outcomes?

Now why would a wedding cost five-thousand dollars more than a blowout birthday party–same number of guests, same setup, same timeframe, same food and beverages?  This is the same catering company!  I forget which one…I’d have to dig through my work emails.  Of course, there’s going to be variation because the quotes were put together by two different catering managers at the company, but come on. Same catering company!  $20,000 for the wedding versus $15,000 for the blowout birthday party. Bizarre, right?

That’s the thing.  People don’t seem to think it’s bizarre.  That’s just how it is.  That’s just how much flowers cost.  That’s just how much the dress costs.  Oh, and don’t forget the thousand dollar wedding album.  Uhhh, can you just give me the electronic images and I’ll get Ofoto to export it into a nice enough album.  I guarantee you a quinceanera cake would double in price if you said it was for a wedding.  Just because.

Let me reserve half of these tables because that’s what I was told to do and no one can sit in the reserved tables for now.  What a joke. And whatever price for a dream wedding, right?

Fucking priceless.

I’ve gone through a range of emotions planning the wedding: stress, nostalgia, excitement, anxiety.  Most recently, I’ve been nervous.  But now, I’m angry.

Yesterday, I sketched out our late September Italian honeymoon.  3 nights in Florence, 3 nights in Siena, 3 nights in Venice. Researching hotels and rates, I’ve realized that for the amount that we’re spending on the wedding, we could have gone on a luxurious vacation staying at the poshest hotels and dining at top-rated restaurants all across Europe for at least a month.  Can you imagine?  The always chic Hotel Costes in Paris, the new Botanist restaurant in London, the Palazzo Barbarigo on the Grand Canal in Venice, venerated tapas at Comerc 24 in Barcelona, wine at Vyne in Amsterdam.  We could have truly had the jetsetter vacation.

Weddings are the culmination of the very worst of American commercialism.  Wasted money on a dress I’ll never wear again. Another check written for alterations on a dress I’ll never wear again.  Some brides add on gown preservation.  (At least Miss Havisham really got her money’s worth.)  Hundreds of dollars on hair and makeup for a day. Thousands of dollars on food, drink, and entertainment that people may not even like! People will complain that the open bar is just wine and beer. People will complain that I didn’t get flowers. People will complain that they didn’t get a welcome bag.  I’m paying for you to have a welcome dinner in addition to the wedding reception…that’s your fucking welcome bag.

So is it worth it?  I’m starting to think…we should have just travelled like rockstars. That certainly would have been worth it.

After this is all said and done, I’m going to start the anti-wedding campaign.  Stop flushing your money down the toilet.  Flush it down a bidet in Paris.  C’est magnifique!

I don’t play favorites.

When a parent has commented to me “so and so is my favorite kid,” I’ve been nothing less than shocked.  My parents made it loud and clear that they had no favorites.  I think playing favorites is bad for the un-favorites’ self-worth.  Who does that?  What parent even thinks on those terms?

But parenting aside, since I’m no parent, I try not to play favorites.  I bitch out my friends when I feel they’ve wronged me.  I even scolded a tardy RSVP responder—who is in my bridal party!  “If you don’t get me that postcard today, you will have to eat your dinner in the restaurant on your dime because I sure as hell will not have a seat reserved for you.”

My second grade teacher adored a blonde, blue-eyed girl in our class and never hesitated to point it out.  When she went to the bathroom, our teacher gushed, “Doesn’t she have the prettiest blue eyes?  She makes me melt.”  The girl even became a flower girl when my teacher got married.  I remember thinking how God-awful I must have been with my black hair and black eyes.  My teacher didn’t even think I was smart.  My report card was a smattering of Bs and Cs—when all my other elementary school teachers praised my work and my standardized test scores were close to perfect.  All I wanted was approval, but as a second grader I thought my teacher was a racist bitch.

Favoritism fuels ill will.  I think we should all try to be more like Sue Sylvester from Glee.

This is from Fitness Magazine.

17 – percentage of weddings that happen in June.  That’s us!

70 – percentage of brides-to-be who want to lose weight.  That’s not me.

23 – pounds the average bride wants to lose.  Gulp, that’s a lot.

56 – percentage of readers in a recent online survey who dropped 10+ pounds pre-wedding.  That’s a lot of sweating on top of the wedding planning.

14 – percentage of brides who purposely bought a dress that was too small.  I don’t think they make wedding dresses in Size 12 kids.

13.4 – months the average engagement lasts.  We’re right there.

5 – percentage of brides in a Fitness survey who encouraged their bridesmaids to slim down.  That’s evil!

Wow, the day came and went with nary a celebratory thought. In April, I’d been blogging for 5 years.  Now that is a long-term relationship if you ask me.  I didn’t notice until now when I scrolled down the months of archives.  April 2005.  Shit it’s been a long time.  And here I am getting married in a couple weeks.  Hasn’t this blogger come a long way!

There’s another reason to celebrate, today in particular, because I found out that a friend of mine is pregnant.  She is the 50th person I know who is preggers or just recently gave birth.  I am keeping a running list.  I went through all my Facebook friends this past weekend and got to 49.  And today, I guess, was the day for #50′s email reveal.  I think getting a puppy is a huge step let alone having a crying baby.  Goodness.  The thought of having a baby freaks me out.  I’m still a baby, for crying out loud.

Anywho…I was thinking we could get a teacup pig instead of a puppy.  How cute are they?!

I think the biggest improvement I can make to my blog is to add more pictures.  So colorful, so lively.  The problem is I’m not a picture-taker.  I’ve never been good at it.  I always forget after the moment passes.  I browse these blogs that are filled with pictures.  I love the pretty sunsets, the smiling children. They say a picture tells a thousand words which must be true because I rarely read what the blogger has to say.  More so, I’m simply browsing the pictures. I guess that’s what makes my blog different. It should be about the writing, right?  But I suck right now.  I’ll get better when I have the time to focus.  I promise better writing after the wedding.

Friday night: helped out with the Catholic Engaged Encounter weekend

Had a fabulous dinner at La Bodeguita with chili peppers that made us cry

Saturday: 10am wedding dress alterations

Glorious brunch of eggs, extra crispy bacon, hash browns, and fluffy pancakes at IHOP

Cleaned my place for the new tenants coming in

Very fun housewarming party in South San Francisco

Point Break Live with the audience choosing Dean as the star, Johnny Utah

Sunday: Dean’s Confirmation at St. Mary’s with the archbishop

Brunch at Pluto’s–caesar salad and onion rings–and Kara’s Cupcakes

Picked up Lulu from doggy daycare.  She was so excited she peed on the spot (thankfully not in my car).

Yummy dinner with friends and Lost season finale

I had a nightmare Saturday morning.  I remember crying in my dream and I was so heartbroken that I physically started crying—which woke me up.  That’s never happened to me before.  Usually I wake up in a sweat, but I’ve never woken up sobbing.

I had a dream that my mom was living in an apartment in Oakland with her three little kids—one of whom was a newborn baby.  In real life, my mom only has me and my sister.  But in the dream, neither of us were with her.  I heard the news that she had been killed by a stray bullet and rushed to the apartment to find all the kids crying.  I was sick not only because I’d lost my mom, but I also felt sorry for these crying kids.

That dream combined murders from my past.  When I was in eighth grade, a second grader and her mom were killed.  The details are fuzzy, but I believe an angry boyfriend of the second grader’s adult sister went to their house in search of his girlfriend.  She wasn’t there so he took his anger out on those who happened to be there.  Our eighth grade teacher came back from the funeral and described how the youngest daughter screamed for her mom as the casket was lowered into the ground.

When I was a junior in high school, our classmate was killed in a drive-by shooting.  He was the only child of a widowed mother.  Time heals and you soon forget that these events occurred and that these people ever touched your lives.  It’s been so long since I’ve thought about my classmate but I vividly remember the early morning phone call.  I thought it was a joke.  What a tragic moment that was in high school.  The flag flew at half-staff for weeks.  Months after the funeral, I bumped into his mom when I was volunteering at Kaiser.  She gave me a huge hug, then broke down.  It probably pained her to see us, going on with our lives.

It makes me so grateful that I got to see the world, that my parents get to walk me down the aisle, that I get to celebrate my marriage with friends and family.  So blessed.