I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed
Thank you, Susan Boyle (or the boil named Susan in "Futurama") as you are the only voice I hear when I think of that song. Well, actually, I get a visual of Susan the boil on Leela's ass. I should probably read more as I think that Alec Baldwin was right and that the evil alien masterminds behind Hulu and the ubiquity of mindless entertainment are liquefying our cerebral matter.
As an itty-bitty little Asian girl, I don't think I really ever dreamed about the details of walking down the aisle. Well, I think I daydreamed of a vague ivory dress made of hopes and dreams while I glided on cotton-candy clouds walking ever so elegantly toward Prince William. An updated version of this dream would definitely involve the younger and thicker coiffed ginger prince. Seriously, Will, William, Billy- have you ever heard of Rogaine? Your hairline is receding faster than the native wildlife in the Gulf. You are caliente, my English compadre but you are losing major hotness points to your Nazi-dressing brother. Shame. As a side note, the dictionary that is embedded in this application does not recognize any Spanish words. *Shudder* Palin, the Earl Grey's, and the Minute Men (who rumor has it, chose their name out of sexual frustration rather than historical events) are winning. Tangent. I think I should buy a diggedy-dog shock collar to keep me on track but I fear I would most likely strap that on Alec mid-dream just to mess with him. Speaking of, after a delish dinner with my mother, he proceeded to find the worm at the bottom of a Chardonnay bottle. Tequila-Chardonnay, same thing, right?
Back to my ramblings- my wedding was never really detailed out in my young and naive years of four. Ok, okay... twenty. I wish I had made a plan a la Patrick Dempsey's Lucky Seven. This Academy Award snub made by the lovely people of ABC Family is a must watch, gents. It's got everything: action- there are explosions in the sky (known to some as "fireworks"); chicks that have lady parts that are sometimes exposed when they wear....tank tops; gore- the wedding is catastrophic- limbs are flying in every direction with morbid onlookers taking photographs to commemorate the horrific event; and sci-fi- OOOOO! There are palm pilots in this strange tech un-savvy world. On a sidenote that will most likely turn into a shooting tangent, Syfy- you are not fooling anyone. You are still the nerdy network and a name change does not make you any cooler. The cool kids over at HBO are still throwing their Tru Blood slushies in your face. Your situation is so dire that even Jack Donaghy's sinking ship refuses to meet you in public. So fly your freak flag, Syfy, and drop the act. I love you for your Giant Shark vs. Mini Giraffe gore-fest. I know Bambi gets his ass kicked by Godzilla so let's keep it that way. Not sure if that last bit will be supported by PETA. Ok, last tangent in this paragraph- is unsolicited bestiality a crime?
Back to the movie and its groundbreaking message of....something. Mother, I am going to blame the absence of a dissertation length dossier on the wedding vendors located in the Western Hemisphere on you . Amy's mother (back to the life altering movie) gave her a road map for life. Literally, seven bfs then marriage; along with college and other stuff but the marriage is the key part of this roadmap. We are women, come on now. We go to college to meet a man and learn how to cook a killer foie gras, right? Your liberal child rearing has given me too much freedom of choice. Damn you for not slapping my ass around, instilling me with the grace to grant all decisions to the nearest penis. Well, I guess if I would have stuck around my biological father more that may have been my future but damn my independent stubbornness!
So let's see. I have no idea what I want to do with this wedding other than having a vegan caterer. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. Chew on twig- ahhh, delicious!
This weekend we are planning on hitting up the local farmers' markets along with the vegan bakery that doubles as a catering service (and communist secret cell) to get our gastro on. In the coming weeks, we are going to head out to Apple Hill, CA; which is not a giant apple shaped like a hill as I had previously believed but rather a haven for apple connoisseurs. I haven't been since I was a child so I have no idea how accurate my childhood memory of the area is- but, fingers (and toes) crossed my memory is better than my dearly beloved betrothed; who, after a lovely afternoon spent strolling the streets of San Francisco, took me to a lovely restaurant that his family had frequented during his youth. Boy, redecorating to have an exterior that resembled an apartment complex sure was sneaky of those restaurateurs. After many attempts to place an order with those leaving said restaurant, we left defeated and chowed instead on the local delicacies of Mel's. Fortunately for the two (or three counting Maia) of us, my aunt is a venerable vacation and entertainment pimp and is burning up all of her roll-over minutes trying to help us with just about everything. My goal is to replicate the style of Star Jones' wedding. Not the gay husband deal but the whoring out of products and merchandise on The View in order to get a final tab of... $0. I may have difficulty gaining access to the squabbling heads on ABC; however, I am totally willing to smack decals all over my car (and Maia) to seal the deal. Venue rental- $0; catering- $0; photography- $0; whoring yourself- priceless.
Well, I believe that I was able to adequately fill space without talking about anything in detail. My gift of gab is honorable and I may have a destiny in politics. Hrm. I can talk about nothing at all for hours on end; however, I can't stand idiots and Capitol Hill is crammed full of the cognitively challenged.
Stay tuned, houseguests, for more Big Brother...Sorry, CBS asked me to fill in for the Chenbot as it was revealed that she was the true saboteur. My hiring will be a true coup d'etat (pronounced, "coop dee-taught," thank you Jeff). All of three of you will get that joke but worth it.
For those who are just joining me on this literary journey of my psychological carnival ride, the best is yet to come. Enjoy Bridezillas or the first month of American Idol, You Think You Can Dance, and the Bachelor/ette or the entire season of Rock of Love [Bus] for the trainwreck TV? You ain't seen nothing yet! Wedding planning/gorging our faces at Sugar Plum this weekend along with some convos with Apple Hill farmers will ensure updates will be made in a disorderly fashion. Shanat- don't worry, they shall come. Just like if you build it, they will come. Now, I believe that it refers to some field of (broken) dreams but I am betting that it really refers to a new Apple Store.
I have realized that with my great gift of verbal diarrhea comes a great responsibility- to subject my friends, family, and some dude from India- to it. You're welcome.