spotted at my sister's wedding.

Not that anyone really cares to see pictures of my sister's wedding, but looking through the pictures let's me relive the madness, so get over it. It was an epic night. Also these pictures are not in order whatsoever, so you won't be living it in sequence. Get ready for a wild ride. Kind of.

Father daughter dance. Also note the cake being dismatled in the backgrgound. yummmmmmmm.

we're sisters, but honestly, she got the better nose. bitch.

ice sculptures and flowers. my wedding is destined to look poor and sad after this no matter what. that's why i plan to elope.

these buddies popped up everywhere throughout the weekend. this was as everyone exited the church after the ceremony. the one with the big guitar thingy was a FLIRT.



my friendsssss.



they're married and no one locked up their knees and passed out during the mass! that was a legitimate concern of mine.



ice bar. it was a popular spot during the reception.



pretty tables.

dance partyyyyyyyy.

Yes, it was a good night indeed.

my kid sister got married: a recap

My sister's wedding day was beautiful and went off without a hitch, whew. I am still recovering. It's been an intense twelve weeks since she informed me she was engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor.

Honestly, I've never seen a less fussy, more laid back and calm bride the day of her wedding. 10 minutes before we're due to walk down the aisle I'm freaking out over my mascara and trying to get my dress zipped and my sister STILL doesn't have her wedding dress on and is helping the flower girl put on her tights. Cool as a cucumber.

It was kind of surreal. I mean, I grew up with her, and I had no idea that was coming.

So, lets recap a couple of highlights from the day. Pictures to come when some appear on the fbook since I was running around like a crazy person the entire day and didn't snap a single one. Well..... that's not ENTIRELY true, but we'll get to that part.

1. I am SO relieved that I didn't have to pretend like I was worried about eating/looking like I had a food baby. My sister and I stopped at Jimmy Johns on the way to the church and got sandwiches and HOUSED them. The other bridesmaids came together and showed up with Panda Express. I am just so grateful that I was able to unabashedly nurture myself aka stuff my face prior to the big event, because I probably would have passed out up there if I hadn't been able to eat beforehand.

2. My brother Eric plays college football and despite being diagnosed with Diabetes at the start of the season, made the travel team this weekend for the school's rivalry game, which I guess is a pretty big deal. He wasn't supposed to make the ceremony and was going to just meet us all at the reception after the game..... but he surprised everyone (except me, because he needed the church address) by skipping the game and coming to the wedding. It was a big deal. My parents were SO surprised, as was my sister. Not a dry eye after he showed up. It was so emotional to see BOTH of my brothers escort my mom down the aisle.

3. Since my sister and her new husband Angelo happen to be knocked up, (boom, surprise!) they were lucky to be married in the Catholic church on such short notice. Luckily, my dad's got a guy for everything and knew a Deacon that put them into touch with a priest. In turn, they decided to go ahead and show some respect by having a full mass. FULL MASS. I know. But now I feel off the hook because at least one of my mother's children did this. Yay, sister.

4. During the vows Angelo got so choked up that I started getting really emotional myself. It was really touching and also gave me any affirmation I still needed that my sister is in good hands. True love, vomit, so adorable.

5. The music for this weekend was fucking legit. Since Angelo's father is from Mexico, a lot of elements from traditional Mexican culture were used, and music was one of them. We're talking Mariachi bands EVERYWHERE. At the rehearsal dinner, at the church as everyone was leaving the ceremony, at the reception as the wedding party came in. It was beyond awesome. Also, Beth and Angelo had a funk band come and play live music for everyone to dance to at the reception. So much live music, so much goodness.

6. I've probably mentioned this before, but Angelo is an ice sculptor. He and his father have a very successful business, and literally no competition in Indianapolis, so they're basically balling out of control. So, we're talking ice sculpture vases on EVERY SINGLE TABLE..... anddddddddd A BAR MADE OUT OF ICE.

Yeah.

7. My mother deserves a major award for her organization level. I mean, this wedding for 300+ guests was planned in twelve short weeks. And it was probably the greatest wedding that ever was, not that I'm biased or anything. There was a very DIY element to everything because it was in such a short time that we all pitched in A LOT. Including helping to create many of the forty+ flower arrangements and centerpieces. I'll probably never see that many fresh flowers in one place again.

8. Everything after ten pm is kind of a blur, but I do remember very vividly the limo coming back to pick up the bride and groom and take them to their hotel around 10:15. I hugged them goodbye and ran back inside and ran right into Matt as he was coming up to me holding out a ring and saying "One of the little Mexican kids just gave me this! Weird, huh?" To which instantly recognized the ring, grabbed it out of his hand and ran back outside and JUST as they were getting into the limo. I yelled, "Angelo, are you still wearing your ring?!" That's right, his wedding ring had fallen off his hand and was almost lost forever. Crisis averted. The universe works in mysterious ways.

9. Okay, Okay, I know I'm 25 years old and it's not cool to talk about hangovers anymore, but seriously, I'm still hungover. When I woke up yesterday I could barely move my limbs. It was that bad. Damn you open bar and post-reception hotel party!

10. I just saw, like, every member of my family from both sides. It was like freebasing family trying to have a moment with each of them in the few short hours we were all together. Still coming down from it. God, I love weddings.

11. Wedding cake. Six Tiers. OH. MY. GOODNESS.

feeling sassy.

I'm ready to get through this week and start celebrating my little sister's lifetime commitment!

This time on Thursday I'll be getting ready to dip my toes into bubbling hot water for a much needed pedi. Wedding weekend is almost in session!

a toast for my sister.

As I've mentioned a few times now, my little sister is getting married in three short weeks.

Since somewhere in the book of sisterly duties it says that big sisters are maid of honor material, I am maid of honor material. And even if I'm not, I will simply have to do. There are times that I look back at my mother tying us together at 9 and 7 in a futile effort to force us to learn how to get along with one another and I have to laugh because somehow, we arrived here.

(Yes, she seriously tied us together with pieces of fabric. We weren't harmed. She untied us for bed, but left us together for meals. Our father traveled a lot for work. I think she was pretty ingenuitive.)

We have now arrived at the point where we don't have to be tied together with fabric to understand that even without the knots, we're held together by some strange force that comes from growing up side by side, enduring all the weird and terrible things that happen within a family everyday.  Upon inspection, the weird and terrible might not really be so weird and terrible, but you'd never dare compare it with anyone. We shared the weirdness. We are sisters. We'll always be tied together.

You should know that everything about my sister happens in a whirlwind. She's a tornado that tears through town and stirs things up. She'll level one house and barely leave the one next door a breeze. She'll rage in a fury and deceive you with her eye in the center, only to flare back up almost immediately with a vengeance. She is a force of her own, she needs no source and doesn't follow and pattern or a logic. She never lacks energy, creativity, or originality and has never sought approval or pats on the head from authority.

She is my only sister. She is all I have to go on as sisterly relationships go. In some ways we mirror each other and in as many more, you'd never believe we came from the same family. At times, our relationship has been volatile. I was a bossy and bitchy child, hell bent on having my own way despite the desires of anyone else. My sister has had bouts of self destruction and moments where I am to blame for any wrong that ever came looking for her. Yet with everything we've gone through and everything that has happened,  we find ways to love each other more and our relationship grows stronger every day- despite all of the things we'll never forgive each other for; there will probably always be those things between sisters.

We are sisters, we are at times each others worst enemies and at times each others only ally. I know no better way to describe the teetering balance in the relationship of female siblings. The bar swings heavy one way or another between the two poles, and you're still stuck with each other. Sometimes it's a happy accident and sometimes it's a sentence you'll never live long enough to serve.

She is my sister, and I love her.

But what will I say in my speech in three weeks?

It's too much to try to express it all in a few short moments, all my hope and congratulations, with guests barely listening as they peer longingly down their flutes, waiting to make contact with the bubbly nectar teasing their lips. I know my family, trust that they love their champagne.

Maybe it'll mean nothing to them as I pour out the story of my first decipherable memory, the day my sister was born. I wasn't even three years old, but I remember details from that day, tidbits of realization that no one could have painted for my memory. I'll start my speech with that fact, maybe pepper in some details. My parents will nudge each other and smile knowingly, because they know that's my first memory, of course they do.

They'll lean over their table and mouth to the family members they're seated with, "She remembers it because she's never forgiven us for not making her an only child!" And there will be muffled laughter, but by then I'll already be explaining how that's not the way I see it.

The way I see it, in life there are moments that stick out like sore thumbs. They can be raw, embarrassing, make your heart skip a beat, or cause you to cry out, but they change you, alter something untouchable but true. They're vivid and bright and significant because of what they do to shape you, and everything afterward that you do, think, or say is slightly influenced by that single slot in time. The moment I met my sister was one of those slots.

My sister's presence in my world has shaped it. She has made me stronger, made me feel deeply, weakened my resolve at times, challenged me, made me hate myself, and taught me so much about life and love. She is an anchor that hasn't let up or allowed me to blow away since she planted herself deep into my person. My sister, she is a part of me. A pivotal part, the first thing I've loved constantly and consistently that wasn't provided for me at birth. That's a long affair.

I'll try to explain it all and fall short and start fumbling a little over words. I'll look Matt over at for comfort and instantly regret it and start getting heady with emotion. The express lane straight to hysterics.

I'll mention that I bet her new husband remembers the exact moment Hurricane Beth blew into his life and the ensuing battle to catch and contain her. I'll warn him of what he already knows- not to discuss anything serious for at least an hour after you get her out of bed and the like, but not too much. I'll commend him for holding her attention and winning her peculiar heart. I'll plead with him to try his best to help their relationship grow and blossom the way that I know in my heart she'll do hers. And then I'll thank him for being the man it takes to gently and sometimes not-so-gently handle my sister's mind, soul, heart, and body.

And then I'll thank my sister for being the first to know how to gently and sometimes not-so-gently handle my mind, soul, heart, and body. I'll tell her I love her and I'll cheers to a happy and laughter-filled life. I'll joke about nieces and nephews and the revenge I'll get on her through spoiling them unforgivably. I'll chug two glasses of champagne and smile my biggest smile.

And then I'll march straight to the bathroom, lock myself into a stall, rest my hair-sprayed head on my thighs and weep.

Because she is my sister, and I love her.

Sara

another one about weddings. and big news. and booze.

Over the weekend Manfriend and I attended an out-of-town wedding. Three down one two to go on the year.


Yes, we've added some nuptials. MY BABY SISTER IS GETTING MARRIED. In November. God help us all, the next two months are going to be stressful. Granted, I've known for a few weeks and she already has her wedding dress hanging in a safe place. BUT STILL. EVERYTHING HAS TO BE DONE IN LIKE TEN WEEKS.

My head is spinning around and around practically.


She's trying to kill my mother and I, I swear.


Just kidding, but this is going to be whirlwind. The end result being the acquisition of a new brother for me and unlimited access to his ice-sculpting skillz. Maybe. Hopefully. And  my sister will gain a lifelong companion and endless source of love and foot rubs. WINNERS ALL AROUND.


This past weekend's wedding featured my uncle J and his new wife and both of their families coming together, and I must say, it was pretty perfect. The other two weddings we've attended this summer were members of Manfriend's family, and though beautiful and heartfelt, lacked one component I'm accustomed to when it comes to weddings.


The after party.


My family throws an after party after any event that allows more than fifteen of us to come together in one place for a night. Graduations, funerals, christenings, you name it, we're getting drunk after it. This one was long overdue, I haven't seen a lot of my extended family for almost two years. So although Manfriend had met much of my family already- he's known my grandparents for years and met many of my uncles and aunts numerous times- he was finally introduced to the mayhem involved in an extended family get-together for the first time on Saturday.


Which always involves shots of a little thing called Schlocks. Which is a secret family recipe, but involves a mix of straight liquor- One of them being Scotch. Nasty.




Copious amounts of shots. And a certain expectation to keep up when it comes to the men. My poor, poor Manfriend.

About thirty of us were crammed into my parent's suite at the Homewood and the booze was flowing freely. So, while one of my cousins and I snuck off to a quiet corner of the hotel to avoid more shots and to catch each other up on some gossip, I received a text message from my uncharacteristically tipsy plus one that said:

 'Sara I'm at a fucking Donato's."

 Which, for whatever reason I thought was the funniest thing in the world... when I got the message an hour later. Apparently he set off (On foot, thank G.) with another of the first time initiates to get a gas-station hot dog and ended up in a Toy's R Us parking lot, multiple hot dog-less gas stations, and finally a Donato's at 12:30 in the morning. Although drunk, Manfriend was wise enough to bring back a pizza to share with the family, a very, very wise move.

All in all, overwhelming success if I've ever known it. And we get to do it all again in a couple of months. But I'm not planning on drinking more than A solitary beer every once in a while until then, because yesterday?

Yesterday was rough.

Xo Sara

sorry about the window.

So, I've got some news on the couch front!


...Which we'll go into tomorrow because today is for TODAY THINGS. Today, let me give you a little glimpse of what it is like to live in my world of mortification and awkward moments.




On Saturday, my friend Mel drove into town so that myself and another of her bridesmaids, Hannah, could pinpoint and execute the whole purchasing of the bridesmaids dress portion of the wedding. 


Originally, we were all going to take a swatch and go crazy in our own favorite shops and boutiques so our dresses would reflect our own personal style and preference. Cute, I know. However, do you know how difficult it is to find a pewter-hued dress in the middle of summer? Nearly fucking impossible. This was the second attempt at this mission for that very reason.


David's Bridal it is!


Hannah and I stroll into the store with Mel in tow and the place is teeming with people. So naturally, I grab one of every dress and make for the dressing rooms, in attack mode. We snag rooms next to each other and start throwing on dresses left and right. out of pure fate Hannah and I select the same dress and BOOM we learn that Mel's sister is also wearing that dress. OMG NOW WE ALL MATCH, PSHAWWW.


 Hannah buys a size down from her normal size and I buy a size up, even though in some strange turn of events, I tried on a size down and it fit. David's Bridal, I think I love you. Anyway, let's face it, this is a winter wedding and that's when I pack on the excess lbs, no matter how hard I'll to try to the contrary. In fact, we're talking the dreaded danger zone- the time between Thanksgiving feasting and Christmas feasting = nonstop cookies and feasting.






TA DA.... Squats forever until December!


Yeah, I really played that one well.


Anyway, we buy our dresses and scamper off to the mall to look at shoes, jewelry, etc. Lots of looking and no finding. Worst game of hide-and-seek ever. EVER.


Anyway, we're driving back to Hannah's after the mall/much needed cocktail break and we hop into Mel's car and IT IS HOT. Devil producing baby devil spawn HOT. HEAT OF A THOUSAND SUNS HOT... okay just one sun, but seriously, hot. So I roll down my window.


Harmless move, really. Just rolling down the window for some air that hasn't been trapped in a stationery heat-box for four hours while we trolled the mall.


Really bad move.


The instant I roll down my window, only about six inches, Mel whips her head in my direction, completely panic stricken, and yells "Roll that up RIGHT NOW."


Melissa doesn't panic or get upset. She calls everyone 'Punkin,' uses excessive <3's, and can make even the most tense conversations feel light and breezy.

This was panic. AND I should have known better, I'd been cautioned months ago when I drove out to visit her and rested my hand a little too close to the window control button. Uh durrrrrrr...I forgot?


So I immediately try to roll up the window. To no avail, of course. I can hear the motor working as I press the button, but the window isn't fucking moving. So naturally I try to push it up as I press the button. Again, nothing. Damn you feeble arms! Maybe I'm not trying hard enough.  I get out of the car, straddle the door, and force the window up with all of my strength.


Finally, it goes up and stays. We all give tense half-laugh of relief.


"The driver's side cost us $500 dollars to fix, so that would have been awful. Plus with the wedding and me needing a new laptop... That just would have been really bad."


Tee hee hee. Fuck. Me. I'm sweaty, my feet hurt, and I just broke something expensive that isn't mine.


After a couple of minutes the frightening window debacle is mostly forgotten and "Say My Name" comes on the radio. Oh, hello eighth grade, I've missed you. Not really, but our rendition was truly moving. And all remnants of panic and awkward are forgotten.


Say my name, SAY MY NAME! If no one is around you, say 'Baby I love you!"


Goddamn it. I look over and the window has slipped almost an inch. I don't think anyone else has noticed, so I try to shield view of it with my body and start dancing really erratically. Destiny's Child goes off and I'm now the only one dancing to some random rap song, which actually makes erratic dancing pretty natural. So far, no more slippage and we're almost back to Hannah's, where I can pull the hands-on-either-side-of-the-window bit and force it up again. This time, with more UMPH so it won't fall back down.


And then everything starts moving in slow motion. We're rounding LITERALLY the final curve before Hannah's apartment. I'm dancing with the window behind me, hoping the girls haven't noticed. We're cheers-ing our rings together like Captain Planet. I'm thisclose to cocktail hour. Smiles all around.


All of the sudden there's a huge crashing sound and I look behind me, and there is no longer a window. It has fallen COMPLETELY into the door. All of it. Bye bye window.


Obviously I start hysterically laughing because that's what I do when I don't know what else to do.

SIDENOTE: I just spilled an entire unsipped cup of coffee all over my person and my cubicle. ENTIRE CUP. Everything is sticky. My life, a comedy of errors.

Back on track, I look over a Mel, and thank the heavens, she's CRACKING UP. Turns out we both panic laugh.

The bad thing is that her fiance, Adam, (Who consequently hosted my very first college party on my very first night in the dorms) is somewhere in the mountains of New York doing fieldwork for his PHD program all summer and she doesn't have a man around to help her. He'll be back in 18 days.

I know that's pretty sexist, but I'm not trying to fix a car window, are you?

Mel was pretty cool about it, despite the fact that I've ruined her dreams of a new laptop and possibly her wedding, which means probably her whole life.  We had the wind in our hair on the way back to my house.

The next day was the first time it rained in over a month.

Insult to injury? Sorry Mel.

Awkwardly yours,

XO Sare