Speaking of indy, my brother is home this week. Not that he is anywhere close to being indy, unless you consider wearing vineyard vines and straps around your sunglasses indy, but he did show me a funny video having to do with hipsters and people of the sort. I think these people are so funny. I still wonder if that is just the name of the group or if they are really a sailing team from Harvard?
I am currently blogging to Blink-182. My iTunes is on shuffle, but I cannot bring myself to change it. The song is called "shut up" from the album entitled "Take off your pants and jacket." Apparently these punks really know how to name songs and albums. Don't worry I won't talk about taking anything off in my next title. Nor will I tell anyone to be quiet.
Lastly, I would like to inform you that I should not be in any more weddings ever again. I wore my heels for about five minutes before complaining that they really hurt my feet. I took my shoes on and off close to 20 times. And then complained a whole lot more than that to anyone who had not heard me complain yet and then ran out of people so had to repeat. I got into bed the night of the rehearsal and thought I should go ahead and chop them off to stop the aching. During the ceremony, I had to lean on the rail when we prayed because I was afraid I would fall over. We stood up there for so long that I tried not to lock my knees and instead probably looked like I was squatting or getting ready to build a stunt. Dang shoes. At the reception, I was told by a staff member of the Petroleum Club that I needed to put my shoes back on. I slipped out during the sit down dinner to use the restroom barefoot- she judged me. As would most people.
At the rehearsal dinner, a lot of the groomsmen had given toasts and not many bridesmaids so I thought I would start the trend. Being a a terrible public speaker, I forgot to introduce myself and went on ahead to making fun of the bride. People were probably wondering why this unknown sarcastic girl was invited. Last weekend was my very first wedding, if you could not already tell, and not one made for a rookie like myself since the isle was about the length of a football field. My mom said I had a beautiful smile as I walked down, but she is my mom so she has to say things like that. I got so bored of smiling for that long that when I saw my dad in the pew about halfway up, I did a headnod. Not just a little nod, but a very visible one. If Beatrice the wedding coordinator would have seen me, she would have had a cow. But besides my shenanigans, the wedding was a blast and Danielle looked beautiful!
I tried to think of a title now that I have written this, but all I have is - hipster wedding internship goes punk.
I just laughed out loud in my office (and my door was not shut). Just so you know, you can wear flats at my wedding--I don't care. Your dress is long. And thank you for blogging. It is much appreciated.
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