A Hobag Looks at 30*

 * bonus points to any weirdos who get this reference!

Two weeks ago another grain of sand dropped through the hour glass of the days of my life and I hurtled into a new decade:

I welcome my 30's at the stroke of midnight on September 14, 2014 from the creaky bed of an old motel in rural New Hampshire, where I was celebrating a friend's wedding. My brand new husband was in bed beside me. At midnight he gave me a beautiful jewelry box and some pirate themed temporary tattoos. I took a selfie (fully clothed, despite how scando this looks) and we promptly fell asleep.

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I was a little drunk. And a lot happy. It was perfect.

I'm now two weeks into the other side still just as happy, though thankfully slightly less drunk. For the present moment, anyway. I may be old but I still know how to get down. In fact, from all I've heard, the 30's are quite the cause celebre.  Allegedly, women in their 30's are generally more financially secure, gain more respect in their careers, have more self confidence and have better sex. And I've learned that the older you get, the easier it is to avoid fads and fashions, a lesson that helped me skate through all of Summer 2K14 without even being tempted to wear a crop top. Victory! So if this means I'm looking at a decade of self-confidence, great sex and fully covered midriffs, well I am ALL IN. 

If you'll recall, in prep for the big 3-0 I made a big 'ol to-do list, as I am wont to do, with 30 goals or items to achieve between September 14, 2013 and September 14, 2014. How'd I do? Let's check the list!

1. Run half marathon HAYLLL YES! COMPLETED 4/26/14

2. Pay off one credit card…put a dent in the other. YES! COMPLETED 10/4/13

3. Get a bikini wax NOPE.

4. Take photoshop or other online design course NOPE.

5. Submit something for publication. YAAAAASSSS. COMPLETED 5/30/14

6. Visit each of the 5 boroughs of NYC (I’m coming for you, Staten Island!) NOPE.

7. Do a pull-up (yes, just one. Aim high.) NOPE.

8. Find a regular volunteer program NOPE.

9. See a play on Broadway NOPE.

10. Watch The Sopranos 1.5 SEASONS. (Unpopular Opinion Alert: That show is a snooze.) 

11. Learn to shuffle cards NOPE.

12. Stop biting my nails UGH NOPE.

13. Take a trip with my mom NOPE.

14. Read outside of my comfort zone (i.e. biography, poetry, graphic novel) NOPE. WHOOPS. 

15. Visit Storm King OBVZZZZ. COMPLETED 10/6/13

16. Get Acupuncture NOPE.

17. Roast a chicken NOPE.

18. Grow a vegetable to a point where it is edible i.e. don’t kill it NOPE.

19. Zumba NOPE.

20. Host a classy, adult dinner party NOPE.

21. Add at least one more state to my list YES! Unblerghed but B&I took a trip to Maine 9/12/14. Trust me, it happened. 

22. Solve my stomach issues GROSS BUT NOPE.

23. Trapeze class NOPE. (What even was this one?!) 

24. Reconnect with an old friend (I already have one picked out! Lucky person!) HALFSIES? I've been emailing with my very first childhood friend Becky but we've yet to reconnect in person. I'm giving myself a .5 for this one. 

25. Decorate our apartment NOPE.

26. See the cherry blossoms in DC NOPE.

27. Take out my navel ring (GREAT ONE, Liz!) NOPE.

28. Make an IRL blogger connection COMPLETED sometime in December, blogged about 3/17/14

29. Hike 5 new peaks NOPE.

30. Skinnydip. ANDDDD NOPE.

 Officially, without loopholes or fudging the rules, I completed 6.5 out of 30. That's slightly over 20 %, if my math is correct...which it usually isn't...but I used a calculator so I'm feeling pretty confident. By the standards of the Common Core and most other methods of grading and judgement, 6.5 out of 30 is an epic failure.

But eff that noise. I'm chalking 29 up as a roaring success.

29 was the year I got engaged and married. The year I ran a (fast!) half marathon. The year I ate a lot of hard boiled eggs, attempted to wear red lipstick and went to a nude beach. The year I first shacked up with my boyfriend (then fiance, then husband!) and moved to Park Slope. 29 was the year I got paid to write an article - for Vogue (...ok, dot com, but whatever)! 29 was the year I saw friends get married, change jobs, move cities and get unscandalously knocked up. At 29 I drank too much wine and spent too much money on organic food and always kept my fingernails painted bright colors and totally pulled off ankle booties and almost always wore the same chambray button-down and learned - and then forgot - the difference between brie and Camembert cheeses and got 2nd place in Fantasy Football and finally found a pair of sunglasses that fit my lanky face and tried Pilates and instagrammed my food and spent time with my best girlfriends, laughing til our stomachs hurt.

29 was great. It was SPECTACULAR! I may have technically failed at most things I set out to attempt, but I'm still giving myself an A+.

So what is on my list for the next year? I have but One Before Thirty-One: Stop Making Lists.

If I've learned one thing about myself in the last 29 years, it is that I need to be a little kinder to myself. No more creating arbitrary to-do lists and then beating myself up when I don't check off every box. No more panicking over things left unfinished, milestones yet reached. No more worrying about where I should be, more focusing on where I am.

No mas!

At 29, I did only 6.5 items on my list...but then 6.5 bajillion more, without even trying. Imagine what great things I can do at 30 without all that time wasted worrying over things not done?

There are things I'd like to achieve, sure. I won't just be sitting about waiting for the world to present me with adventures. I'd still like to hike more, to move up in my job, to quit biting my nails, to run more races. I'd also like to keep writing - perhaps not more but better. Which may mean a little less of the usual business here. Blogging is fun and exciting and I love the attention, sure, but at the end of the day it's really just a hobby. And one that's maybe not as fun as it used to be. I can't tell you the number of Thursday nights into Friday morning's I've sat stressing and scrambling for "funny" content for fear of letting someone, anyone (probably just myself) down. As much as the world loves and SURELY NEEDS yet another weekly roundup of me covered in random food stains, I'd like to think I can do a little better than that. I'm not abandoning the awkwardness of it all, but just going to see what I might be able to do if I spent just half of the time I put into photographing avocado blobs into writing or reading smart content.

I hope you'll still come along with me.

But, BUT! If none of these things happen, if I don't write a word or hike a peak, if I never ever roast a chicken as long as I live- that's OK. I can trust that my time will be spent elsewhere, doing other meaningful things I haven't even though up yet.

I do think we can all agree, though, that though no one ever sees it, what with the no-crop-tops rule and all, it's really, really, REALLY time to get rid of that belly button ring.

So here's to being 30. And chill (ish). And THRIVING. 

xoxo Liz Ho

 

 

 

Wedding Wednesday: It Begins!

The first Wedding Wednesday, whee! I barely know where to begin, so I’m taking a tip from my gal Maria von Trapp neé Ranier and starting at the very beginning. A very good place to start!

Without further ado, a look back at the final few days leading up to THE day.  When you are wedding planning, everyone likes to give you unsolicited advice and sometimes it is good advice and other times you are like:

And it is important to keep in mind that most of the advice comes from a well meaning place of good and take everything with a grain of salt. Or a lot of salt all over the rim of a large margarita. Whatever works.

One of the best pieces of advice I received from a recently married friend was to try to get as much of the little nitty gritty details out of the way before the last minute, so you could spend those last few days before the wedding enjoying family time and one another instead of being a frazzled monster. I took this advice to heart and I think it paid off. There were OBVI no duh a few moments of stress and some snippy words but overall everything was just calm and fun. It was FUN!

Seriously. Ok enough, Liz, get to the point.

WEDNESDAY:

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#Hottwedding kicked off Wednesday morning, August 13, when the future Mr. Hobags and I hauled booty from Brooklyn to Lancaster, PA in our chariot, which was a rented Kia SUV of some make and  model. I wasn’t really paying attention. Our initial plan until about 2 weeks pre-wedding was to just take the Amtrak, but upon realizing exactly how much crap we had to lug with us, we wisely decided to rent a car – and a big one at that – and it was one of the best decisions we’ve ever made. In our whole lives!

I also fully intended to carry my wedding dress via Amtrak, a prospect that horrified my mom.

“Um, it’s fine,” I reassured her. “I already took it on the 3 train.”

Whoops? When I picked it up from the salon (lol “salon”) I didn’t feel like paying for the taxi all the way home, so I just lugged it on the subway with me. I thought I’d be the talk of the train but no one so much as blinked an eye. Which makes sense. You’d basically have to be a 300 lb male midget wearing a wedding gown while singing “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” and selling gummy bears for jaded NYC commuters to so much as blink an eye at you.

How’s a bride supposed to get any attention in this town?!

Also my mother helpfully pointed out the irony of refusing to spend $40 on a taxi after shelling out close to a G for a wedding dress but hey! Any savings to the wedding budget count, right?

RIGHT!

Anyway, all of this is just pointless backstory to tell you another pointless fact which is that Brian and I drove a car from Brooklyn to Pennsylvania on the morning of August 13, 2014.

Cool story, bro.

I’ll speed to the good parts.

Our main objective for the day was to acquire a marriage license. In the state of Pennsylvania, you need to apply for a license no more than 60 days and no less than 3 days prior to your wedding date. Because we live out of state and the court is only open on weekdays and also we’re kind of ridiculous, we decided to just push it to the absolute last possible moment instead of taking a vacation day to get it earlier with in that window.

And so, we rolled into the Lancaster County Courthouse at about 1:30 PM on 8/13 a mere 2.5 hours before the legal final deadline to acquire our license.

Should we have been worried about this? Meh. Probably! Were we? Clearly not. I know this doesn’t seem like an example of “do things early so you don’t have to stress,” but if you look at it from another perspective, I think it shows just how oddly calm we were throughouth this whole week. This was like THE ONE THING we had to do for our wedding to count – eff flowers, appetizers, seating charts, this is a legal document – and we just casually made it happen, like a trip to the drug store or something.  Cool cukes, we are.

The whole process actually took much less time than I thought. We sat with a nice, matronly woman from the County Clerk’s house and she asked us a series of questions: middle name, parents’ names, parents places of birth. Being a people-pleasy A student, I kept getting nervous I was answering wrong but she didn’t really seem that concerned about what precise town my dad was born in or whether my mom was “a lawyer…or attorney? They’re the same thing, right?!”

We completed her quick questionnaire, handed over $40 cold hard cash (see! Good thing I didn’t spend it on that taxi!!) and they printed out our marriage license right there. We signed it and boom:  done.  I don’t think they ran any sort of background checks or anything. All we needed to do was have our officiant sign it post-wedding and we’d be officially hitched.

FACT: It is very easy for straight people to get married in this country.

At that point, the clerk turned to me and said, in a between-us-gals tone: “Now, honey, when you go to change your last name…”

No question of if I might, just right on into it. UGH. She was a sweet lady but seemed a little set in the ways of yore.

Which made me all the MORE delighted to spot the couple behind us: two broads.

That’s right, folks. Lined up behind us were two ladies. Brian turned to me and said “Oh I thought you had to bring your fiancé, I didn’t know you could just bring a friend” and I said LESBIANS, MORON and to his defense he had momentarily forgotten that PA is one of the cooler states in the union, offering marriage rights to all consenting adults.

Rock it, PA. Rock it hard.

It took all the power of my being to control my tendencies to be overly intrusive and somewhat offensive in demonstrating my liberal viewpoint and not go up to them an hug them and say “I’M SO HAPPY  YOU ARE HERE, GOOD FOR YOU, LOVE IS LOVE” and start crying and cause a scene.

Also, I would have la-hooooved to see Ms. “now, honey” interact with this couple. The paperwork literally said “Bride” and “Groom.” Do you think she asked which one was which?

Honestly for all I know she’s the most open minded lovely lady in the land and I’m the real asshole – I definitely fall into that “everyone is entitled to an opinion unless I don’t like it” trap from time to time.

I’m the worst, I KNOW.

What else I know is, 2 gals or not, they weren’t the best couple to walk through the doors that day, we were.

OBVIIII.

I then posted the above picture to facebook and spent the majority of the rest of the day watching to see how many “likes” it acquired. 158! But who's counting?

Humility is my middle name.

Brian and I hop-skipped away from the courthouse and met my mom and brother for lunch at the local brewery and for the first of many, many, MANAYYYY times that week we remarked on how surprisingly relaxed we all were.  And we stayed that way. The rest of the day we did ZERO wedding tasks. We went for a run, watched HGTV, read magazines, napped. My mom grilled a delicious dinner, which we casually ate on the back with glasses of wine. It was a treat.

THURSDAY:

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Don’t worry, this part will be short & sweet because Thursday was another calm, easy day. We leaned hard on gender stereotypes – Brian and Michael went golfing, while my mom and I went for manicures with my aunt Katy, who had just arrived from California for the festivities. I spent way too much time waffling  about what color to do my nails – I wanted something bright and festive, but would that be too much? Would it look dated? Should I pick something more simple and “timeless?” I kept thinking about this senior photo my mom has of me in her living room where I’m wearing stacked platform sandals and GREEN NAIL POLISH and how goofy I look. But also, when that photo was taken, that was my jam – tall shoes and hideous nail colors. And my jam now is bright, colorful fingertips. I ain’t no French Mani kinda gal.

So I went for bright! And I'm so glad I did - they totally pop in the photos and make me beyond happy. So here is some unsolicited advice from ME to YOU – who cares if something might be trendy or look dated or be too bright or not bridal or too bridal or whatever. If you like it, just do it. What does “timeless” even mean? I’d rather have bright orange phalanges than do something just because it seems like the “proper” thing to do.

Also no one asks or cares BUT I went for this gel manicure thing which is like, a special kind of nail polish that lasts 3 weeks without chipping and I highly recommend if you are the kind of moron who tends to chip their nails immediately (like moi) but ANOTHER unsolicited piece of advice is that when you’re ready to take it off, you should go to the salon and have them do it for you or else you’ll still have weird gel build-up on your fingernails a full month later. JUST FYI.

The rest of the day was devoted to some final wedding tasks. We alphabetized the escort cards…and realized we’d made a few printing mistakes, whoops. THE WEDDING WAS RUINED!!!!!! Just kidding! We reprinted them!  We put whoopee pies and homemade cookies into gift bags for out of town guests and wrapped gifts for the wedding party and assembled piles to take with us the next day. Margepants arrived from Philly and Bernie grilled us steak and crabcakes for our final pre-wedding feast.

WHAT AN EXCITING DAY!!!

Ok I was also going to include a recap of Friday and the rehearsal dinner but this is already long and boring enough, even for me and I’m the star of the story so I’ma cut it off here. Try to contain yourselves for the next installment which includes me finally losing my cool and snapping at my mom, cops on bikes, champagne and a Fleetwood Mac cover band.

Toodle-oo!

 

Another Awkward Week [8.29.14]: I'm Baaaaack Edition

 weddinggggWell! So yeah, that happened!

#Hottwedding has come and gone and I don't even know where to begin! It was just the best day. The best! The whole weekend was dreamy and perfect. Which is not to say it was fairy-tale flawless, but fun, memorable, exhausting, hilarious, delicious...perfectly perfect and perfectly us. I loved it!

When can we do it again?

I'm in the midst of getting my brain re-combobulated (that's a word?) on all of the weddingy goodness I want to share, but I just wanted to pop back here and say hi!

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!

Also, to reassure you that, though with a new ring and a new last name (I mean, technically...I've not even begun to think about considering the paperwork but we're in the midst of going full-on Liz Scott over here) (more on THAT to come!) (omg!) things here should continue to roll on at their normal bizarre clip.

Case in point: This Vinegar

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After the wedding we spent a few days on Fire Island (muuuuch more on THAT to come, too!) where basically every inch of my flesh was devoured by mosquitoes.

Don't worry, Ebola is not spread via mosquito...I checked.

We got back late Thursday night and didn't have any cortisone cream in the house, so I took to the web in search of home remedies, as I am wont to do, and learned that regular old white vinegar can be a good cure for itchy bug bites. Whaddya know, we have a large bottle right on our pantry shelf!

I went to bed early and put the bottle beside me, in case I needed to reapply during the night. I don't know. It made sense at the time.

The following morning I woke up at the crack of dawn, because my body hates me and hates sleeping past 7 AM, picked up my glass of water and my bottle o'vinegar and stumbled out of the bedroom. First stop: bathroom! I set the water glass on the sink and promptly knocked it over, shattering it all over the floor in the one room in which we are legit always barefoot.

Le sigh.

Thank god we registered for so much glassware - I didn't made it 2 days without breaking anything.

I blearily made my way to the kitchen, got the broom and pan, swept up my disaster and staggered to the kitchen, already exhausted. All that work had made me thirsty, so I picked up the nearest water bottle resting on the counter, unscrewed the top and took a huge swig.

Except...you know where this is going...that bottle was SO not water. It was the big, giant bottle of white vinegar.

Yum.

If you're looking for a surefire way to wake yourself up in the mornings, might I suggest the vinegar chugging method?

On second thought...never mind.

So there you have it. Married? Yes. Together? Certainly not.

Thank you in advance for listening to me talk alllll about the wedding for the next foreseeable future. I know I have but a small window where it is acceptable to obsess over our recent nuptials and I plan on milking every goddamn second of it.

HOORAH!

(PS: photo credit Kylene Lynn Photography, Kylene is the bomb. More about THATTTTTTT, you guessed it, to come.)

xoxoxo Liz Ho...Sco?

One Awkward Wedding: Liz Finally Loses Her Mind!

Like sands through the hour glass, so are the days of my wedding planning. Did that make sense to you? No? Me either.

There is no time for sensemaking. NO TIME!!

Our wedding is in 39 days and counting and so much is happening. It’s starting to feel really real in a way that is at once exciting and a tad overwhelming.

And by a tad, I clearly mean a ton. A metric ton! Unless that’s less than a regular ton...I’ve never been one for math and science.

Someone recently commended me on my zen attitude towards wedding planning and I do (honestly!) think I have kept things pretty mellow which is kind of surprising, considering what  a stress monster I usually am. But I’m noticing that as the days slip by faster and faster even I, Zen Bride Extraordinaire, am beginning to lose my cool.

Last night I dreamt that we were in a chapel and they were performing back to back to back weddings and then, suddenly, it was our turn! But, wait! We weren’t ready! Some of the bridesmaids had their hair done. I did not. One bridesmaid had to leave to “go to another thing” and Brian’s parents were missing. I had spaghetti sauce on my wedding dress. There was no music.

Our #Hottwedding was a #Hottmess.

Now I know about as much about dream psychology as I do about metric tonnage (aka nothing) but if I were forced to dig deep and try to decode, I’d go right ahead and say it seems I’m just a pinch worried about getting everything done and not being ready.

For the wedding, at least. I’m totally ready to legally lock it down with Brian. I am going to marry the HELL out of that guy and I can’t wait. It’s going to be awesome! But the wedding is another story. Try as I might to avoid the pressure to make my One Special Day be perfect through and through, I’m turning into a little bit of a crazyperson!

Would anyone like to hear a very insane and long-winded example? No?

TOO BAD, BITCHES. KEEP READING.

Woo, forgive me. Got a little carried away there! But seriously sit back and allow me to regale you with a tale of madness, mayhem and paper products!

LIZ HO VS EMILY POST: ENVELOPES OF DOOM: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

So! Like I said, must to the surprise of all parties involved, I’ve been pretty cool & calm on all fronts including getting along with mi madre which, if Say Yes to the Dress says anything about real life, is basically a miracle. At this point in the game we should have had about 15 knock-down-drag-out fights renouncing one another as family, her threatening not to come, me screaming back “GOOD, YOU’RE DISINVITED!", both of us in hysterics, but so far, we’ve managed to avoid major arguments.

Weeeeellll except that little tiny one over the invitations.

Not the actual invitations, mind you. Those I’m pleased as punch over. My pal Jamie who is a stellar graphic designer (and available for hire!) (SRSLY email me if you’re looking!) designed our “invitation suite,” as I would call it, if I were the sort of person who used fancy terms like that. They are everything I could have wanted: classy, simple, whimsical, gorgeous.

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AMAZING, RIGHT???!!!!

Oh, and, did I mention cheap? They were so cheap!

Everyone has their priorities in weddings, as in life, on what they think is worth a lot of money and for me, paper products was at the bottom of the list. I like looking at pretty paper and I respect your right to blow the bank on whatever the H you feel like but, the way I see it, that embossed, lined, monogrammed envelope stuffed with 12 different letterpressed cards all tied up in a satin bow and hand addressed by a professional calligrapher are going one place and one place only: the garbage can.

Rough stuff but it is true. I barely remember what most of my friends wedding invites looked like (or birthday invites or baby showers or anything) except in the cases where they were really fancy pants and then I only remember how guilty and horrible I felt when I inevitably chucked them because as much as I love my friends (SO MUCH!) and value their right to fancy invitations, ain’t nobody got space for all that fancy paper.

And YES I know every single aspect of wedding planning is a waste of time and money, duh, but we all pick and choose how to waste our time and money and for  me, this was just not it. Friends and countrymen, feel free to toss these in the garbage can guilt free!

That said, I didn't want the invites to look like actual garbage. Luckily for me, two of my best friends, Jamie and the World Wide Web teamed up to create magic and bring us something that is hella fabulous for UNDER BUDGET. Boomshackalacka. In case you are curious, which you are surely not, but I’ve already started telling this story there’s NO STOPPING ME NOW, we used a Gilt Group coupon for the website Wedding Paper Divas to print our invites, hand designed as a generous gift by Jamie. I would probably never have used this website were it not for the coupon - I cringe at the word “diva,” as it is usually used in a derogatory manner towards women considered to be “difficult,” in a way that is very rarely flipped back on men (am I right, Nicki, or am I right?) BUT sometimes my frugality gets in the way of my morality (I know, I'm the worst) so I couldn't say no to this coupon. And I’m super glad I didn’t. Silly name aside, WPD was beyond professional. They send complimentary samples of their stationery, their customer service was quick and helpful and the quality was A+++.

And our designer was A+++, too! Y'all should hire her. The best way to get a good deal  is to become her friend, because then you get free graphic design and you get to hang out with her and she’s the bomb.com, so it’s kind of like you’re getting paid in the end, really, but if you can’t find a way to worm your way into her life/heart, you could certainly email me for an intro and I bet she’d offer you a fair deal. Just sayinnnn’!

Ok so now we have learned that a) I didn't care much for invites to begin with and b) loved the ones we ended up with so why did c) they lead to the d) most intense melt down of Liz Ho’s Wedding Planning Extravaganza Extraordinaire?

‘Twas not what was inside the envelopes (plain white, came free with the order!) that upset me, you see, ‘twas what was written outside of them.

As I’m sure you can surmise, I was not about to pay for someone to calligraphy (caligraph? is there a verb for this word?) these bad boys, I would have been happy printing them out on a laserjet printer like an uncouth monster but we did still want them to look nice, so my dearest Schmoopster offered to hand-write all 101 addresses. She was very cute about it, sending us samples with different pens and practicing a little bit each night and all was right with the world until we experienced what I am now calling a minor communication breakdown. Others might call it a major meltdown. I'll let you be the judge.

My one and only request with these invitations what that none sent to married couples be addressed in the so-called “traditional” manner, to Mr. and Mrs. Hisfirstname Lastname because that makes my skin crawl. Like, what is that even about? It’s not enough for a woman to take a man’s last name? AND change from a Ms. to a Mrs. when he gets to keep Mr. all along? She also don’t even get her own first name anymore?

I know this is the “proper” way and how Emily Post would do it but I think it’s sexist and stupid, Emily. That bitch is like, 700 years old and not even invited to our wedding so who even cares what she thinks.

Apparently a whole lot of people!

Somewhere in this whole process this point was not made clear and it came to my attention after about ⅓ of the invitations were already addressed that they were, in fact, going out in this traditional manner. My mom and I had a huffy, mildly dramatic phone conversation but managed to end on a civil note, with me agreeing that the already written invites could go out as-is, and Schmoops agreeing that any going forward would at least mention the woman’s name on their somewhere, Emily Post be damned, and we hung up, end of story.

J to the K. One of us, I won’t mention any names (women don’t get names, remember?!) (calm down, Liz) could not … ok...would not… let it go. This person was me, obviously. I hung up and stormed around the apartment, fuming, getting more and more upset.I am a feminist! And now I’m sending these misogynistic envelopes all over America! HOW WOULD THAT LOOK?! What would people think?! Just as paper crushes rock, so will these paper envelopes crush my sterling, powerful reputation! This could not go on!

So I took the mature route, called my mom back and oh, the doody hit the fan. I started weeping - and I don’t mean like, gently crying or sniffling, I mean like, tears down my cheeks, hyperventilating, weeping -- about feminism and individuality and last names and choice and envelopes and women and identities and demanded that my mom re-do all of the invitations,even the ones she had already written.  I could NOT have my return address associated with a Mr. and Mrs. HisFirstname situation. At one point I actually shrieked “THIS IS MY BRIDEZILLA MOMENT! I AM THROWING DOWN MY BRIDEZILLA CARD AND YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!”

Oy yoy yoy.

(Spoiler alert: I did start my period the next day so I blame my hysteria on the hormones. But I stand by the subject of my hysteria!)

My mom fired back that it was a silly thing to waste my bridezilla card on, some people like to be addressed in such a manner, that she likes cares about adhering to certain types of tradition, she is helping to fund this wedding so her reputation is on the line too and maaaayyybe, just maybe, I should think about other people’s values as much as I think about my own.

Game, set, match: Bernie.

Loathe as I am to admit it. And oh, I am so loathe. She's totally right, guys.

And lo, we managed to reach a conclusion. All envelopes already written would remain “proper” as well as those to anyone who might like to be addressed in such a manner, because some people do like tradition and that is ok (it is!), but all others would be a little more progressive.

My sweet  mom, trying so hard to prevent another meltdown took it to the furthest level, addressing married women as Ms. instead of Mrs. or in some cases, completely omitting gendered pronouns at all.

I loved it!

Of course, after all this, I will bet you all a haypenny and a half that not one single solitary person even noticed how they were addressed. And if they did and they were offended, oh well. Please trust that we were just two ladies doing the best we could under the pressures of tradition, the patriarchy, the Wedding Industrial Complex and the most stressful situation in all the land: mothers and daughters planning a wedding together.

We tried! We really, really tried.

I still maintain it was a worthy cause for throwing down my Bridezilla Card. Flowers, playlists, party favors - these things are silly details about one day which will eventually fade into memories in a photo album and therefore not worth truly stressing over. But my anxieties re: the traditional manner of addressing couples reflect something actually life-altering. I have gradually come around to the idea of possibly (probably) (ok, more than likely) taking Brian’s last name, a saga I’ll delve into another time, but I still can’t shake the fear that marriage means sacrificing my personal feminine identity. Elizabeth Scott is one thing. Ms. Scott? I’m still on board. Mrs. Scott, less so. Mrs. Brian Scott?

No way, Jose.

And by Jose, I could mean Jose OR his wife because married ladies don’t get their own first names!

Enough, Liz. ENOUGH!

Like my pal Elsa, I’m letting it go. I understand that women have different ideas of what feels right for them and it is important to honor their decisions and that you can still be married and be a badass individual feminist lady, and names are just names and all that other good stuff and perhaps I need not take everything so seriously all the damn time. And maybe stop reading Jezebel. But I still reserve my right to throw occasional temper tantrums on my road to self enlightenment.

I’ll be sure to send you my mailing address when I get there. Just don’t send any correspondence to Mrs. Brian Scott ;).

And that, my friends, is my tale. What a mess, right? I'm a nutjob.

But other than this, and the dreams, and the nail biting, and the various Google rabbit holes I keep falling into, I'm doing pretty a-ok. I might just survive the next 39 days with my sanity (and relationships!) in tact.

Wish me luck! JK wish my mom luck. And Brian. That poor guy is stuck with this nutjob for LIFE.

Sucks to be himmmm!

The end.

Liz

PS: I am very sorry, I realize this whole post this is probably insanely rude and awkward to talk about/show off wedding invitations because not everyone who reads this is invited.  Believe me, I would have liked to invite the whole wide world but that’s just not a possibility...a post for another time. I’m still too busy barfing with guilt over guest list cuts to discuss it.

One Awkward Wedding: It Begins

Ok guys, get out your tulle and glue guns: it has begun.

(image via)

I’ve decided that I’ll write from time to time about wedding planning – to have a record of it, to mock it all, to keep myself sane. This is something I’d really, really like to do: I think it will be a unique and fun challenge for me to honestly and humorously portray the myriad of emotions and decisions that go into planning this special event , to look at “That One Perfect Day” © through the skewered lens of a real life Modern Bride.

Here’s the thing, though, much as I’d love to do this, I haven’t been able to start writing it out because I’m embarrassed. How ridiculous is that? I can’t help myself! Some horrible, mean voice inside me tells me that I’m being cheesy, that nobody cares, that "cool" girls shouldn’t allow themselves to get excited about things as antiquated and commercialized as weddings.

I know what you’re thinking: girrrrl, you cray.

And yet: here we are. I don’t know where it comes from, but I feel like there’s almost a dark flipside to the movements away from the Wedding Industrial Complex: in rebelling against the consumerism and conformity of all things wedding we’re being made cynical. That we’re not supposed to become giddy over flower arrangements and diamonds and card stock (OH the card stock!).  That we should be above it all.

There's a very distinct possibility that I'm just overthinking things (for the first time EVER!) but tell me, do you know what I mean?

I’m worried that everyone will find me insufferable, insipid and boring. (You know, since I'm usually so intellectual and deep!) Here she goes again with the wedding talk! That I’ll become a caricature of some kind of bad Rom Com character or worse, the dreaded BRIDEZILLA. I constantly feel the need to apologize for bringing up our wedding in conversation, even with the closest of friends, because I don’t want to appear to be making too big a deal of it all.

All of this is entirely unfounded.  None of my married friends has ever once gotten on my nerves by talking about their weddings. Like, ever. If anything, it’s usually me bringing up the subject, begging to see photos and talk details. All of my friends have been over the moon excited for us – for our marriage and yes, our wedding – and if anything, blog traffic actually spiked when I talked engagements and diamond rings and yet I let that naggy, judgy voice in my head keep me from being truly enthusiastic.

I need to tell that voice to shut it. Posthaste.

There is nothing cheesy about being excited about your wedding. Are weddings overblown, expensive, outdated rituals? PROBABLY! But so is the Superbowl. And Thanksgiving. And people still get pretty fucking excited about those things. It is entirely possible to recognize that there is a difference between One Special Day and one special day. Wanting a long white dress and centerpieces is not selling out.  It is not anti-feminist. It is not lame.

So I’m going to stop apologizing and start celebrating. And writing! Not always, but now and again, always under the label One Awkward Wedding. And the rest of the time, I’ll focus on more important stuff like poop. And hard boiled eggs. And wine! And if people think I'm being stupid and self absorbed and annoying, well, they can skip those posts. And honestly I probably am being pretty stupid and self absorbed and annoying like, all of the time (incredibly vain, obsessed with Taylor Swift, no personal boundaries...yeah, sounds unappealing) but I think I'm actually OK with that.

Enough navel gazing. Let's do this thing!

One (Specific) Awkward Year: 30 Before 30!

Friends! Thanks to all for the sweet birthday wishes, you are some nice people. I'm already feeling older and wiser and maybe just a scoonch wrinklier, too. In the spirit of making the most of my fleeting 20's, I've decided to become a lifestyle blogging cliche and create a 30 Before 30 List - 30 things to try or accomplish before I hit the big, you guessed it 3-0. Corny, indeed, but I do love a good list and am always up for a challenge or thirty. Plus: think of all the writing material!

Also, I know what you're thinking: Liz, why don't you focus on your day-to-day lists and do things like clean your house or mail that wedding gift to your cousin who got married back in July or I don't know your job, and I hear you loud and clear on that one, and I'll definitely consider getting to those things eventually, but eh: boring. I need to reach for the stars, here before my AARP membership kicks in. (KIDDING).

I looked to a lot of other blogs for 30 Before 30 inspiration and stole a few good ones, but tried to focus on things that are actually possibly possible in the next 360 days (already losing time! OH GOD!) Much as I'd like to ride nude on the back of a great white shark off the coast of Bali, I just don't know that it is quite doable on my dwindling time frame.

Some are silly, like getting a bikini wax (why is this even a thing that people do?), some are more intangible like solving my stomach issues and some miiiight be impossible, see "run half marathon" and "pay off credit card debt." But ALL of them are happening. They are! Before September 14, 2014 the list below will be donezo and the whole world will know my name! Or I'll still be entirely unfamous but with less debt and a smoother bikini line. Nowhere to go but up, friends!

Now quickly for the wild card: Number 30. I was realllly stretching for material as we got into the high 20's here and decided it might be fun to take a little audience poll. What do YOU think I should do in this next year? I'm taking suggestions for something that is legal, not weird or perverted, not expensive (unless you're paying, in which case, I'm all ears) and maybe a bit ridiculous to add to my list. Let's hear your suggestions - the best one wins!!

And we're off. I'll do my best to document what is sure to be a THRILLING year, I sure hope you'll follow along.

30 before 30

30 Before 30

1. Run half marathon

2. Pay off one credit card...put a dent in the other. (yes I have 2 credit cards. Proud American.)

3. Get a bikini wax

4. Take photoshop or other online design course

5. Submit something for publication

6. Visit each of the 5 boroughs of NYC (I'm coming for you, Staten Island!)

7. Do a pull-up (yes, just one. Aim high.)

8. Find a regular volunteer program

9. See a play on Broadway

10. Watch The Sopranos

11. Learn to shuffle cards

12. Stop biting my nails

13. Take a trip with my mom

14. Read outside of my comfort zone (looking for suggestions, literary pals!)

15. Visit Storm King

16. Get Acupuncture

17. Roast a chicken

18. Grow a vegetable to a point where it is edible i.e. don’t kill it

19. Zumba

20. Host a classy, adult dinner party

21. Add at least one more state to my list

22. Solve my stomach issues

23. Trapeze class

24. Reconnect with an old friend (I already have one picked out! Lucky person!)

25. Decorate our apartment

26. See the cherry blossoms in DC

27. Take out my navel ring (GREAT ONE, Liz!)

28. Make an IRL blogger connection

29. Hike 5 new peaks

30. Blog Challenge!

Boom. Let's do this thing. Thanks for following along and now if you'll quickly excuse me, I have a LOT to accomplish. First stop: Trapezing! Or maybe I should just get back to work.

xoxo Liz Ho