Often my life is ironic. So ironic, in fact, that I begin to wonder if it’s all part of some master plan created by the gods of irony and non-coincidence. Case in point: This weekend I spent an entire day on the set of my company’s latest web production where I play a character named Maddie; she’s a tomboyish female struggling to get her femininity in order by obtaining girl friends. The very next day I had to attend a girl date with FMC and the rest of her bridal party. In essence, a bunch of girls together to discuss a wedding = Maddie’s worst nightmare.
Luckily, I am not my character.
While I’d admit to not being terribly enthralled by the idea of trying on bridesmaids dresses yet again, I was happy to spend time with FMC. She has chosen me as Maid of Honor for her April ’11 wedding, but with our crazy schedules we haven’t had much time to catch up. So I now had two reasons to be motivated: spending time with her…and drinking heavily.
While FMC does many things well (she’s an awesome photographer), it’s her choice of restaurants that never proves her wrong. This time around she chose Agozar, a Cuban restaurant in the LES. I greeted her with a warm hug and she was quick to mention the unlimited sangria was only available for another hour. (I’m going to use that as my excuse for drinking more than 5 glasses within that allotted time period: peer pressure.) During our time there we laughed, gabbed, and received bridal party gifts (yummy tank tops and candles) complete with a newsletter welcoming us to the experience and alerting us of important dates. Internally I had this moment of questioning: should I have helped with this? That might be the first moment between being chosen as Maid of Honor for both FHM and FMC’s weddings that I realized I don’t really know what the hell I should be doing. Nor have I had the time to really sit down and think about it. I made a silent vow to up my participation in such matters…and then downed another glass of the red stuff.
After several photo ops and a shot of Patron (why!), we headed to David’s Bridal on 6th Avenue. The weather was balmy and threatened to rain so we split up and jumped into cabs. I had to ride shotgun as FMC, Haizel and Tara rode in the backseat. I think I figured out I was drunk when I couldn’t get over the fact that I had trouble remembering who sang a song called “Back in the Days.” Either that, or when I decided I knew NYC better than the cab driver and was trying to direct him. I’m sure he couldn’t wait to throw us out of the cab.
At David’s Bridal we were no better. Retrospectively, I realize we were that group of drunk, obnoxious girls that enters a bridal store with only one thing in mind: act like idiots. I’m a little hazy with remembering the exact course of events, but what I do remember is trying on several dresses we had no intention of buying (Maali and Trance arguing over a particular red one), sharing a dressing room with the other 3 females in the party and choreographing a Tina Turner style dance segment for the whole store to see. Wait, what? Yeah. We did that.
Sometime later we got into serious mode (maybe FMC smacked us upside the head and I just don’t remember) and tried on a two piece set in a pinkish color. What I’ve learned after two dress fittings is that it’s a BITCH to coordinate a style that compliments everyone in your wedding party. Someone is short, someone is tall, someone has wide hips, someone has no hips, someone is super tan or super pale. You can’t win. Although I was pleasantly surprised by the top of the outfit, I wasn’t very excited about the bottom. But, in the end it’s like I’ve said in the past: it’s not about me. I openly and happily relinquish control to the bride.
After the dress hoopla I started to not feel so well. I opted out of seeing Sex and the City 2 because there is only so much girly stuff I can take in one day, and headed home. By 8pm I was on the couch with my boyfriend watching the intro for the MTV awards and we had this conversation:
Me: Babe, I don’t feel so great.
Him: Sweets, I think it’s called a hangover-
Me: (cutting him off) Wow, I totally tried on a dress that would have been perfect for this red carpet!
Me: (cutting him off again) Shh! You wouldn’t understand. You’re a boy!
Him with a look of “whatever” on his face.
Check out pics here:http://public.fotki.com/ElleJRivera/limited-brunch-album/