I’m at Cleveland airport getting ready to flly back “home” to sunny SoCal. I need to reiterate the “sunny” part since it was rainy and cold for at least 96% of my time in Ohio. Is it weird I still kind of miss it? Falling asleep to thunderstorms and the thrill of whether or not this plane’s gonna get out before this tornado warning puts a damper on our plans?
Springtime in the midwest is a treat :)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The day after our legendary Dive Bar Ugly Bus Tour, I drug L and my mom two hours south to Central Ohio for a bridal shower hosted by B’s mom. Actually, mom drug L & I, since we were pretty worthless and hungover.
At least L packed us this sweet Hangover Kit :
TRUE STORY : I was still drunk when I woke up. Apparently 4.5 hours of sleep and 60 oz of water before bed isn’t enough to battle the hangover demons. We woke early and I boldly declared that I felt “like a million bucks” and laughed and joked with our slumber party guests for a few hours over coffee. The feelings of “I’M TOO OLD FOR THIS SHIT” didn’t hit until 30 minutes into the drive to the shower.
ANOTHER TRUE STORY : L did not wake up drunk. She woke up hungover, like normal people. Greasy fast food cheeseburger is her fail-safe cure and I seriously considered aborting five years of vegetarianism for it’s healing benefits.
But, since we’re true professionals, we put on our happy faces, un-smudged our mascara, hit the sangria upon arrival, and had a good time.
(UPDATE : Currently airborne between CLE & Houston)
After everyone arrived and got caught up, we played a little game. Mrs. B called it “Sarah’s Favorite Things” and everybody had to guess how much each item cost. I was a little embarrassed when my transparently poor diet and addiction to sugar, booze, and weird running fuel merited questions like, “Does she eat any REAL food?!” and “what the heck is that?!” …
But did she hit the nail on the head, or no? Touche, Mom B, touche…
Then it was time for cake. I’m drooling remembering it.
B’s grandma is the world’s best baker. Really, she is. You haven’t lived until you’ve had grandma’s cake. She’s making the cake & petit fours (for anniversary freezing, and mass consumption at reception, respectively) and made this incredible cake for the shower. Are you ready for it? You’re going to crap yourselves.
Edible OUaL!!! How freaking cute?? I had no idea. AND it was carrot – which means 1) it’s automatically my favorite and 2) it counts as a serving of vegetables for the day. BOOM. Cake Win.
After shoveling a few delicious forkfuls into my cake-hole, it was gift time.
Another Random Jaunt About How Socially Awkward and Messed Up in the Head I Am :
(preface : this is 100% about my feelings on gifting in general, not at all about the ACTUAL gifts/shower/people from this weekend)
Let me tell you how weird public gift time is for me. I get severe anxiety over it – whether I’m the gifter, the giftee, or simply watching somebody else open something from a stranger. There’s all this build up and excitement, and… what if they don’t love it? What if they already have it? What if it’s two sizes too small and they suddenly become anorexic because they think the gifter thinks they’re fat?
What about the things from the registry? Do you still feign some surprise? Or is it DUH you know you’re getting it, so just stoicly thank the gifter for paying for something you didn’t really want to buy yourself?
And I don’t care how much you either genuinely love the gift or how good of an actor you are, there always seems to be at least a slight amount of over-exaggeration.
“I LOVE it! It’s EXACTLY what we were hoping for! How did we ever live without a tissue box cover?! I just can’t wait to use it! Shall I take it out now?”
(Editor’s note : I didn’t actually receive a tissue box cover.)
The generosity of the gifters is obviously NOT lost on me – everyone could have shown up and called their mere presence gift enough, and I would have been more than happy. The presents just don’t matter in the grand scheme, and the big hubbub of unwrapping them really just makes me uncomfortable.
These are the worldly issues keeping me up at night. Has anybody called me a shrink yet?
(I’m typing this and just PRAYING somebody out there is nodding their head in agreement while reading – or else I’m just an ungracious, horrible, complete asshole jerkoff on an airplane.)
I did survive gift time – I may have an ulcer and I did break a few sweats, but I made it. AND Mom B brought a spare suitcase for me to take all the gifts back in! Genius.
All social-ineptitude aside, everything was really great. I’m so grateful for this wonderful family I managed to snag and marry into, and all of the people who took time out of their Saturday afternoon to hang out with my awkward (& hungover) self.
Even though I’m most certain a few of them only came because they were told there’d be Grandma cake…
(UPDATE : currently at home, the morning after my flight, since Houston’s wifi was PMS’ing last night and it was 2am EST when I finally got home , where I decided tending to my neglected fiance and pups was more important than posting.)