HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.

"Tomorrow was her birthday, and she was thinking how fast the years went by, how old she was getting, and how little she seemed to have accomplished. Almost twenty-five and nothing to show for it.”

-Little Women

But enough with the depressing stuff. 

Tomorrow is my birthday, which I take very seriously. But not just mine -- I get overly excited about all birthdays. Anyone who doesn't make a big deal of their birthday is a fool, A DAMNED FOOL!

First off, the birthday person should never go to work. Or school. Or doctor's appointments. Or jury duty. Or anything. However, not everyone can ditch all responsibilities on their birthday, which is a real shame. The fault really lies with the employer. Friends, if you run a business, surprise your employees with a cake the day before their birthday, then surprise them again with a DAY OFF. They'll be so happy they'll probably work twice as hard the day after.*

You know who doesn't make a big deal of his birthday? The fiance. He just sort of shrugs whenever I bring it up, so it's up to me to put candles in his pancakes and fashion him a construction paper crown and make him promise not to take it off all day and hop around singing made-up birthday songs and throwing glitter in the air and wearing myself out just to get him to give a crap about the annual celebration of the day he came into the world.

Of course, on my birthday he's always out of town on a mandatory business trip. He leaves me a present to open and then takes me somewhere special when he gets back so that my birthday lasts the whole month(!). I know it sounds sad to spend your birthday by yourself, but sometimes it's kinda nice and weirdly relaxing to be alone on a day that's meant for indulgence and celebration of YOU. Especially if you're an introvert who finds being around other human people exhausting. Sometimes I tell people I'm hanging out with someone just so they won't feel bad and offer to keep me company, when really I just relax best by myself. When Bill gets back from his trip I'll drag him and our friends out to karaoke, but in the meantime, here's my plan:

I'm gonna sleep in real late. Probably wake up stuffy because I have a cold, like I always do the first week of January. I was planning to make some toast and tea, but maybe I'll walk over to the diner around the corner where they make the best potatoes I've ever eaten and where I have the best chance of becoming a regular (aside from Taco Bell).

"Oh -- do you need to see my ID?" I'll ask, waving it about all languid and coy. 

"Nope!" they'll say as they walk away. "Order up!" Or something else diner-y.

"But how will you know it's my biiirthdaaay?" I'll whisper. So full of wist.

Anyway. Then I'm going to pick up some contact solution because I need it, a Dr. Pepper because I want it, and some Lemonheads because I'm going to the movies (After a greasy lunch at Five Guys. Does my life revolve a little too much around food?). My fifteen-year-old sister was too cool to go see the new Hunger Games with me at Thanksgiving, so tomorrow I'm going to see a matinee showing by myself and THEN we'll see who's cool!

It's still her. She's way cooler than I ever was.**

No matter! After that I really want to find a place where I can just hang out with a whole mess of puppies. There isn't a pet store at the mall, and my "rent birthday puppies" search gave me nothing. Sometimes they have dogs at That Fish Place, but it's really hit or miss. Mostly they just have...fish, which are harder to pet. Plus, then I'd smell fishy for the rest of the day.

Hmmm...

Once I get back home, the real fun starts, by which I mean dinner. I went grocery shopping today with no plan in mind; I just let the aisles speak to me. And you know what they said? They said, "Carrie ... all you need is cheeeese." And I said, "You're right, aisles, but my gall bladder will hate me if I eat only cheese, and remember two years ago when I went to the emergency room because I thought I had appendicitis but really I'd just eaten that poorly during Birthday Week?" And the aisles said, "Oh, yeah ... that sounds embarrassing. Alright, maybe pick up a vegetable or something." 

But I did better than that. I bought mushrooms for escargot-style-mushrooms, blackberries because they seemed reasonably priced, a thing of lettuce, a loaf of French bread and a hunk of brie (naturally), and a miniature lemon meringue pie, just the right size for a birthday girl. Although I forgot to buy birthday candles so I might pop a tea candle in the meringue. We'll see how that goes. 

After dinner it's time to Treat Mah Self even more -- foot bath, wedding magazines, and I'll-say-"Friends"-because-it-seems-more-adult-but-let's-be-honest-I'm-probably-gonna-end-up-watching-Harry-Potter. And, of course, opening the little pile of cards and presents my lovely family and sweetheart sent me. I know at least one of them is a book, which means I'll end the night cozied up in bed reading, happy as can be -- the same way I've ended every other birthday.

So maybe I am twenty-five and don't have much to show for it. At least I've learned how to spend a kick-ass birthday.

*Or stagger in all bloated and hungover, depending how hearty they party. Personally, I'm a work-twice-as-hard kinda lady, but I will most definitely wear my tiara at least until February.

**Incidentally, her birthday was yesterday. HOORAY!! 

How to Get Your Body Wedding-Ready

IT'S JANUARY 2ND, LADIES. TIME TO GET BUNS OF STEEL!

Every bride wants her guests to talk about how happy and in love she looks on her wedding day, right?

WRONG. The only comments a woman wants to hear when she walks down the aisle are "Did you see her calves?" and "Look! No arm jiggle!" and "Damn, girl. DAT ASS."

A fabulous body starts in the kitchen, so go in there right now and throw out all your food. All of it. You don't need it anymore. Jog to the store and buy SlimFast. Buy a whole crate. Jog home with it. Faster. Faster!

Now that you've eliminated extraneous caloric intake, you're ready to start a killer workout regimen. Start out with a fourteen-mile warm-up run, then perform the following exercises to blast those problem areas:

Tummy Tree Huggers
Whittle your waist with side hugs. Practice outside with a tree to work on your tan while you exercise!
1. Stand with the tree on your right side, two feet away from you, feet shoulder width apart.
2. Stretch both arms out to the side and lean from the waist toward the tree.
3. Wrap your arm around the tree. Smile for the imaginary camera. Say, "We're so glad you could make it! Did you try the canapes?" Return to start.
4. Perform 80 reps each side.

Bending Over Backwards
Work your core and strengthen your back with the medicine ball toss. Great practice for the bouquet!
1. Squat with feet shoulder width apart. Hold medicine ball at chest height, arms straight.
2. With one quick motion, hoist the medicine ball over your head and throw it as far as you can behind you.*

*Note: For safety purposes, make sure nothing is in back of you and call out, "Catch, bitches!" before you toss.

Walking on Egg Shells
Tone legs and calves without bulking up. We're not going for thunder thighs, ladies!
1. Crack five dozen eggs in half, discard the insides, and line the shells up on the floor in the shape of a spiral with the domes facing up.
2. On tiptoe, walk along the shells and mentally prepare yourself for the dance of trying not to offend a hundred different people with the cut of your dress, the wording of your vows, or the color of the tablecloths.
3. If you crack any of the shells, your marriage will have fifty years bad luck.

Wave(rs) Good-Bye 
Slim down and firm up those arms. If you have bat wings, your fiance will stop loving you.
1. Hoist the weight of all the expectations of society, your family, your ancestors, and strangers on the internet over your head. Hold for the rest of your life.
2. Cry softly in the shower.

Repeat these exercises three times a day until your wedding and you'll be looking great for the big day! If you're having trouble staying motivated, just remember that once you say "I do," you'll never have to diet again. Now, isn't that worth getting married?


Image via The Daily Mail.

Resolutions

I'm setting low standards for this year. If I find myself married and living somewhere other than a gutter next December 31, I'll consider it a pretty good year.

I usually don't make resolutions because I know that February will find me just as slovenly and undisciplined as ever. But I've got a storm of opinions coming my way over the next year, and I need to develop a thicker skin if I hope to plan a wedding and avoid a nervous breakdown. Someone is going to think my dress is weird or the invitations are tacky or the food is fine, I guess, but not what they would choose. It's just going to happen, and I would like very much not to agonize over it.

So as my resolution, I am declaring an embargo on caring about other people's dumb opinions.* Because that's some nonsense, and you know my feelings about nonsense. What I do want this year is to do some cool stuff, marry Bill with all our favorite people there, then do more cool stuff. Someone who hates fun will probably show up and try to put a downer on the party, but there will be way more people shouting, "Look how happy they are!" and "Damn, these are some bangin' tacos!" and "I LITERALLY CANNOT STOP SHAKIN' IT."

Alternatively, we could just hire a bouncer to keep out all the haters. Problem solved, and I don't have to grow or evolve as a person - and that's what this holiday is all about.

Happy New Year, friends.



*Flattering opinions will be taken under review.

Yule Blog

Since we'll only be engaged for a year, Bill and I have become very precious about our holidays. "This is our one and only most treasured Arbor Day as fiances!" we coo at each other.

It's gross.

But what's not gross is all the food I've been shoveling down my gullet -- pizza, prime rib, hummus and pretzels, bagels smothered in cream cheese, chocolate, more chocolate, cinnamon rolls, white Russians, even more chocolate. And that was just lunch.

I would make some flippant remark about the wedding diet starting at New Year's, but let's be honest: Over the next year I'll probably go to a couple yoga classes, make a few half-hearted attempts at a diet, and then realize around September that I somehow failed to lose those extra five pounds. I'll feel bad for about five minutes, then decide that since I've neglected it for that long, I might as well give up entirely and eat some more cheese.

Anyway. Merry Christmas from 10 Cent Dowry.


Image via Fifties Wedding.

Best Wedding Showcase

There's a Bridal Expo coming up nearby. It's called Best Wedding Showcase, and the W in Showcase is replaced by a butterfly. The website promises a "wedding wonderland of ideas" including a fashion show and elaborate vendor displays. There are door prizes. THE THEME IS TROPICAL LOVE. I CAN'T NOT GO TO THERE.

If the event were free, there would be no question. But it's $5. Are wedding cake samples really worth five dollars of my most precious scrilla?*

On the other hand, TROPICAL LOVE. I looked at the Tips page, and their advice is to bring 1) a clipboard, and 2) your people. In that order. Your people may include your "mother, bridesmaids, fiance, father (since he might be paying!) and of course your wedding planner or assistant." Of course. Naturally I would never dream of attending a bridal show without my assistant to carry my clipboard and my train, and my father will certainly want to see what he's shelling out for.

Maybe I'm being unfair. Maybe it will be a bunch of affordable, down-to-earth vendors who want couples to have super fun, lovely, meaningful weddings. Maybe many fathers care deeply about their daughters' nuptials and would like to attend the Best Wedding Showcase. Maybe my father would like to attend. Maybe I just texted him about it.

Besides, if it were a cheese show on this scale, I'd be there in ... well, I'd be camping out right now to make sure I got to the cheese first. We all have our thing.

So I guess my choices are:

1. Boycott the Best Wedding Showcase, partly because I'm frightened I'll get swept up in all the grandeur and excitement and butterflies and walk out with a $50,000 pre-planned wedding and a coconut bra;
2. Go with a friend, gobble up the free samples and then write about (read: make fun of) the whole thing afterward; or 
3. Dress up like an old movie star, then walk around the place sniffing and drawling out insults while I take long drags from my cigarette holder. 

But let's be honest. All this hemming and hawing is just for show. Of course I'm going.

For cake.


*Probably.


Image by Russell Patterson.

Email to Wedding Venue, Draft 14

Dear Sir,

Hey there, pal!

Happy Late Turkey Day! Gobble, gobble!

Hi [Name],

Wow, can you believe it's December already?!

Thank you so much

Thanks again for giving us a tour showing us the place around two freaking weeks ago. [Does it sound like I'm talking to a realtor?]

I don't want to sound like a bridezilla but you said you'd email a proposal and a quote the Friday before Thanksgiving and yet here it is already December 3 and I have received no proposal. WHERE'S MY PROPOSAL, MAN??

DO I SEEM LIKE A PATIENT PERSON TO YOU??!!

Just wanted to check in, make sure you didn't forget about us, ha-ha!

Bill and I both really liked the place but I'm kind of getting a vibe like you're not that into it. Did you just not like us that much, or....

We came on too strong, didn't we? We always do that. Stupid, stupid!

I'm sorry. Let's start over.

I'm sweating so much right now.

Just wanted to check in see if you're still alive those dates in October are still available and also invite you to hang out with us sometime. Have you seen The Hunger Games yet? and talk about our feelings a few details.

Kay, smooches for now!

Thanks bunches!

Let me know ... or else!!!!! lol JK.

Thanks!

C-Dazzle

Carrie


And after about seven more drafts, I'll probably send it! (Unless you think it sounds too pushy?)

Hitched on the Cheap

I didn’t get crazy about wedding stuff until The Anxiety descended upon me. I turned 24 in January and suddenly it was urgent that I go to the dentist, start a retirement fund, and plan my entire wedding before getting engaged.* You know, for tax breaks. 

Basically I've got a fever. Not for weddings in particular but for CONTROL.

Of course, my enthusiasm cooled a little once I found out how much a wedding costs. Apparently married people really need that tax break, since they've already promised their first-born child to a tent rental company. I started peeking at prices with a $10,000 budget in mind, and even though average wedding costs are almost triple that amount, it turns out I can have a very nice wedding indeed for $10,000. Only we can't afford for anyone to attend, including the groom and me. 

Ghost wedding. 

One evening a few months ago I casually asked Bill what kind of wedding he would maybe sorta hypothetically want, and he said, “Let’s spend as little money as poss—as little as practical."

And that is one reason Bill is the guy fer me. Plus, he will be the quintessential old man. 

So, with the goal of spending as little as practical, here are our ideas for a budget-friendly wedding:

• Dress: Wrap myself in tulle and aluminum foil and waddle down the aisle. When people start laughing, I’ll shout, “It’s couture!”
• Suit: Bill can wear pajamas if he wants; no one pays attention to the groom. I went to a wedding once where the groom didn’t even show up. Nobody noticed. Lovely ceremony.
• Rings: Twist-ties. Boom. Done.
• Officiant: One perk of living among the Amish is that Lancaster County issues self-uniting marriage ceremonies. As long as two people show up to witness our vows, we can do the whole thing ourselves. Here’s hoping we can find two people with nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon.
• Reception: Creative acquisition of foodstuffs. We'll hold a canned food drive and conveniently forget to deliver the cans to the charity. For the reception we’ll remove the labels and serve Canned Food Surprise. And since you’re not allowed to insult the bride at a wedding, everyone will be like, “Oh dahling, the water chestnuts and tomato paste were simply divine.” **
• Rehearsal dinner: Ramen and a case of Natty stolen from college dorms.
• Decorations/Transportation: Speaking of stealing, funerals seem a fine place to rent flowers and a limo.
• Napkins: Toilet paper. IF IT’S GOOD ENOUGH TO WIPE YER ASS IT’S GOOD ENOUGH TO WIPE YER MOUTH. We will splurge on double-ply, though.
• Tablecloths: Fitted sheets. IF IT’S GOOD ENOUGH TO COVER YER BED…you get the point.
• Tables/Chairs: Who do you think you are, the Queen of Sheba? Find yourself a picnic blanket, Your Highness.
• Music: Here I refuse to compromise. I will have that ABBA cover band, Bjorn Again, or I will not get married. That's a deal-breaker, ladies.

Total cost: $14.95. 

Notice I didn't include invitations in that list. That's because THIS IS YOUR INVITATION! OCTOBER 18, AMISH TOWN, TURN LEFT AT EZEKIEL STOLTZFUS' FARM AND DRIVE TWO MILES! IF YOU PASS THE OLD FENCE POST YOU'VE GONE TOO FAR! RSVP IN THE COMMENTS!!

SEE YOU THEN!!!!

*People say the same thing will happen re: babies when I turn 30, no matter how much I insist that I don't want any tiny humans around or inside my person. "You'll see," they say. Somehow my argument of YOU DON'T KNOW ME is strangely ineffective against their knowing smiles.
**And apparently we’re only inviting people from the 40's. 

Image via Theatre of Fashion.