Figuring out what I wanna be when I grow up.
Oop..I AM grown up...

Monday, April 25, 2011

On Weddings and 3 AM Super Sonic Indigestion

the DEVIL assumes many pleasing guises

In case anyone happened to notice my absence from the land of blogs, I was away for a wedding slash mini vacay this weekend.  Recall the BACHELORETTE party I went to last week for the lovely T--well this weekend was the wedding.  And, since it was an hour and forty five minute drive away, this was a fabulous excuse to DUMP THE CHILDREN, get a hotel room and PAR-TAY DOWN.  BOO YAH.


I'm not much of a par-tay down kind of girl anymore. I mean, I want to be, but clearly I'm not very good at it.  I was getting some ribbing from friends at our reception table, because apparently the story of me BOLTING FROM leaving the bachelorette party upon discovering it was 1:30 in the morning had gotten round.  I'm not ashamed. I own my loser-ish-ness.  So, there was much guffawing, and ribbing on my behalf, but whatevs.  A good night's sleep keeps me from being homicidal.  Who knew?

So, The Man and I made sure to drop the kids off good and early at the grandparents' so's we could enjoy the HOTEL POOL.  Hellz yeah.  When going to a wedding, or any evening event now, I have to do a certain amount of pre-event prep work.  This primarily involves NOT EATING ANYTHING THAT WILL BLOAT ME LIKE A HUMAN BALLOON.  I was going to squeeze my ass into my black dress pants for that wedding even if it killed me.  I didn't care how much muffin-toppage I might be risking, I was not wearing a skirt. 

Because, I H8 wearing skirts. 

I think other girls look great in skirts, and I certainly admire a lovely skirt or dress, but my sack of potatoes body is 10,000 times sexier in a clever pair of pants than a skirt.  Skirts do horrible secret things to bodies:  they hug the bum to create the GIANT BOOTY effect.  They hug the hips to create the MAMMOTH SADDLE BAGS effect.  If the length falls just to my knee or below, it makes my calves look like big, fat bowling pins.  If they come above the knee, I feel like I should be peddling my potatoes on the street.  And worst of all, there's that issue of NYLONS.

I freaking hate nylons, tights, and hosiery of any kind.  Itchy, clingy, bindy, top-of-the-thigh-pinchy, attire created by Satan. 

So, I avoided sugar, milk, and any kind of fun food indulgences for two days, and my pants weren't tight.  Yay me.  This was particularly difficult, because The Man, evil tempter that he is, bought DORITOS to bring to the hotel.  Put a bag of doritos, a bowl of mini eggs and a super garlicky dip in a room and I'd be finished.  They may be my biggest weaknesses. 

But, I didn't eat them.  I got the DORITOS SHAKES, but I didn't eat them. 

Yay me. 

So, after the pool and the mother-trucking-hot-tub YO (hot tubs ROCK), I tried to bend my super fluffy, straw-like hair into an attractive shape, put on some bling, and my PANTS, chugged a couple of cocktails and off we headed to the wedding. 

The wedding was intimate and elegant.  The centrepieces were FANTASTIC:  several roses in a tall, glass vase, in various juicy-juice colours.  The bride looked stunning, with her glossy strawberry blond hair swept up, in a magestic loose curls style, and her lovely gown.  I was getting a mild buzz, the appetizers were yummo, I was at a table with all friends, no duds, so all was well. 

Lots of appetizers. Ooo...yummy appetizers!  Let's just have drinks and appetizers all night!  More than enough drinks.  FREAKED OUT when I saw the little birdie salt and pepper shakers gifty ont the table.  FREAKED OUT.  BEST BONBONIERE  EVER.  Then some rich food.  More drinks.  Loads of laughs.  Fun to dress up and be with friends!  Red wine.  CHEESECAKE, B*TCHES.  Marvelled at some of the sky-high heels some girls managed to wear...silly girls.  Couple more drinks.  Lots of sitting.  Lovely speeches.  Got teary-eyed when the bride spoke.  Ew.  I don't feel good.  I'm not drinking anymore.  No wait, I feel fine!  Hooray!  I'll have one more drink! 

In the meantime, finally came that most anticipated time of the evening:  DANCY DANCE TIME!  And here's where I have to apologise to T. if she's reading this, because the DJ LET ME DOWN.  Herewith I provide:

karen's rant about wedding DJ's
I have been to more weddings with a sucko stinko DJ, than a good one.  People, I love to dance.  I LURV IT.  I love to get my drink on.  I love nothing better than to get my drink on and dance.  Ppfft--zero inhibitions--what's not to like about that?!?  I want to shake my groove thang (whatever that is) for as long as the music is good.  Then I want to dance to "Can't help falling in love" by Elvis with The Man.  Then I want to dance some more with the girls.  I do NOT want to ever, ever hear the following:

* Jive Bunny. 

Seriously?  SERIOUSLY?  Ah hell naw.

* Old Time Rock & Roll

I've ranted about this before.  It fills me with an incomparable rage.

* Shook Me All Night Long

It's not a highschool dance.  If anybody wanted to "shake" me all night long, I'd punch him in the neck. 

* The Macarena

Yeah, I used to do that dance.  IN THE 90'S

* The Chicken Dance

Luckily I haven't heard this one in years.

Okay, so, that being said, this DJ last night did not play any of these major offenders.  Well, that's a big point in his favor.  He even played really good music during the reception, while we were eating and drinking and eating and drinking.  Good, good, and good.  And then, it all fell apart at dance time.  I lurv the Everly Brothers.  I have a greatest hits cd.  I don't want to dance to them.  Ditto for Connie Francies, and SUPER DUPER DITTO for Paul Anka!  MON DIEU--PAUL ANKA!!!

Vivacious L., who was at my table, went up to make some requests for songs chicks actually like to hoochy to:  Akon, Taio Cruz, that dance-tacular new J-lo song.  Current, current, current.  However, Cotton Eye Joe informed her that he didn't have most of the songs she requested, and the one he did have, he wouldn't be able to get to for a LONG TIME.  Okay buddy, do you notice that there's nobody on the dance floor?  He's like the jerk at a party who monopolizes the music, takes no requests, and insists on playing sh*t like "Free Bird" all night. 

If I were a DJ, I would RULE THE PLANET.  I'd play a) what the bride and groom wanted, b) CURRENT MUSIC c) music to suit some of the older crowd, and d) slow songs that don't make you want to hurl. 

Here endeth this rant.

SO, it was 10:30, and everyone was leaving (see?  I'm NOT a total loser--everyone else was tired too, so NYAH!), and The Man and I headed back to our hotel room.  I pried off my sexay shoes, noted with horror that my feet had expanded to roughly five times their original girth, and made The Man poke them.  Then I put on a pair of my favourite super-sized gitch with the hole in them, my jammies shirt, and hopped on the bed with that bag of Doritos that had been singing its siren song to me all day. 

I've never been so happy.

Then I went to sleep. 


Question:  how can you tell that you're getting OLDER?

Answer: when you have indigestion SO BAD, it actually tricks you into thinking you're having a heart attack.

After a few hours of fitful dreams in which I was basically still at the wedding chit-chatting with the girls, and loads of tossing and turning, I woke up at 3 AM with LEGENDARY INDIGESTION.  Have you ever felt like a giant bottle of fizzy pop?  Well, that's how I felt.  Had that happened in the afternoon, I'd have concluded that I had wicked heart burn.  However, at 3 AM, I felt like I was on the road to heart attack country.  Then I had a mild panic attack.  Then I had to be my own voice of reason:

Voice of reason:  calm down, karen, old kid, old sock--you're not having a heart attack.  You're having an ANXIETY ATTACK.  You never used to have those, but you get them now, so just take deep breaths and chill out.

So, here is the prescription for massive middle of the night indegestion:

* 2 TUMS
* 1 entire bottle of water sipped slowly
* approximately 50 farts (yeah, I said I wouldn't talk about personal gas again, but it's integral to the story)
* 20 burps

and voila!  All better.  Of course, this is all very lonely as The Man is sawing logs next to me as I'm pondering my own MORTALITY, and making a few hypocritical psuedo prayers and promises that I'll NEVER DO THIS AGAIN, but that's how I roll. 

Yup.  That's how I roll. 

Click my little linky thingy--it's practically painless!Vote for me @ Top Mommy Blogs - Mom Blog Directory


  1. other than feeling like you were having a heart attack,the wedding seemed pretty fun, at least you got to sit with people you know and like. the worst is when you get stuck at the table with an obnoxious relative anyone in the know would not sit with.we got stuck at a table once with a pharmasudical[sp?]salesman, and guess what he sold,viagara!so many stupid drunken viagara jokes, the poor guys wife was mortified,and as soon as the dinner ended everyone at the table ran far away from him,ah good times!

  2. you = wedding DJ? No? I guess you would have to get over the sleep thing though? That would be a lot of late Saturday nights..but you would ROCK at it!! And you could shake your groove thang every week end! YOiu could wear the same awesome outfit to EVERY wedding, call it your dont have to talk to anyone for long, you can tell some can drink (as much or a s little) as you wanted and get paid for it all!

  3. viagra jokes! Yeah, those are always appropriate at a WEDDING. Yes, it's true: I was quite happy with our table group. We've been to a few Jon's co-workers weddings in the past, and sometimes the table was less than stellar

  4. I know eh Steph? But the late night thing is a huge challenge. Still, I'd spin some really good tunes.

  5. sounds like a super fun weekend, minus the middle of the night panic attack/stomach upset. my husband has those, but he doesn't let me sleep through them usually. he wants company, even though there's nothing i know to do to make it stop or make him feel better.
    i want to go to a fun wedding without kid so i can get my eat & drink on!

  6. Cotton Eye Joe? I've never heard that one before. Glad you had a good time. Doritos are not my friend either.

  7. well Sherilin, do you have any local babysitters, or babysitters in a reasonable distance from you? Because, babysitters are where it's AT. Luckily I have my inlaws, who the kids could very well love more than they love me.

  8. George, Cotton Eye Joe is a fairly obnoxious yet catchy dance song from several years back. Bad dj's were responsible for burning dancers out with it.

  9. Obnoxious is the word that I would use to describe it. I can understand the use as a dance song with the rhythm.

  10. Oh, we ALL fell into that dance trap back in the day, George, but now that song is just long and completely annoying.

  11. I hate bad DJs. There is no excuse for them. ARE THEY BLIND? Do they not see that NO ONE IS HAVING FUN?

    I also really hate those stupid 3am anxiety attacks, particularly when the husband no longer wakes up, even if I poke him really, really hard, because he's convinced I'm strong enough to deal with this on my own.

    I think he's just lazy.

    Glad you're better!

  12. yeah, I'm better--whatever constitutes 'better' in adult life. Wait..that sounds highly cynical. I'm super! Thanks!

    Middle of the night anxiety totally blows. It blows even worse than...oh wait, anxiety for me always comes at night. Nevermind.

  13. nope. we have no family & no babysitters. it's a problem. unless we travel 6 hr to see the 2 sets of grandparents, we can go nowhere without the girl-child.

  14. oh man. So, when's the last time you guys have been out together just the two of you? You'll have to start eyeing up the soon-to-be-teenage daughters and sons of people you know!


I lurv comments. Thank you for the comments. They are scrumptious.


Related Posts with Thumbnails