Till Death (or ridiculously bratty behavior) Do You Part

It’s not exactly the season for weddings, but what the hell. Bridezillas. Amirite? Can’t live with them, can’t leave them on the side of the road, um, I mean altar. Many relationships are thrown to the wayside because of the horrible behavior of certain brides-to-be. Some people will say it’s the stress of wanting everything to be perfect on that perfect day as guests gather to celebrate that perfect couple on that, you know, perfect day. I’m not so sure. I think it’s more likely that these bridezillas were always a little full of themselves and they’re simply showing their true selves at a time when those in their social circle are less likely to balk at their increasingly narcissistic demands due to the traditional mindset of “this is the bride’s day.”

Imagine your dearest friend tells you the good news (of course, that phrase is relative) of her engagement. She asks you to participate in the day that “every little girl dreams of” (seriously, are we still so archaically inclined?). You congratulate her with a hug and a smile. Perhaps there’s some smugness there if you’ve managed to avoid the trap of matrimony. Or maybe you’re masking disappointment and resentment because you are still waiting for your “forever” partner. Either way, you congratulate her. You effervesce appropriately about her upcoming nuptials, the most important day of her life (is it though?).  She hands you a slip of paper.

Now on this slip of paper, you imagine there to be beautifully handcrafted calligraphy. This paper, you imagine, proclaims the bride’s affection and the honor of having you by her side as she embarks on this new journey. You consider not reading it in front of her because emotional reactions make you uncomfortable, best friend or not, and you are just about full on the sentimentality for the moment. But it is your best friend after all, and you catch the bright gleam in her eye (which, in hindsight, might’ve been a clue), so you shyly look down. There on the paper, where swirling curves of sincere penmanship and affirmations of undying friendship should lie, rests typed words in the conglomeration of a list.

Hmm, you wonder briefly if it’s a mistake before reading further, and the horror sets in. These are not loving words of gratitude but demanding orders to dictate your new role in your so-called friend’s life. The demands may include anything from the hairstyle you are allowed to wear during the wedding (hair color included) to suggestions on weight loss and tattoo cover-ups to how much you must spend on your dress, bridal and wedding gifts, bouquet, and destination bachelorette party. Sadly, this is not a trope resigned to the film and tv industry but an all-too-real experience for many unfortunate bridesmaids across the country.

One bride forced the bridal party (children included) to pose for pictures in the pouring rain. Of course, the bride and groom were blessed with umbrellas. Some brides ask guests to wear specific colors, way-too-specific clothing styles, the no makeup look, or certain hairstyles. This goes beyond the routine “formal – black tie optional,” “cocktail” or “semi-formal,” and I can only assume it’s a misguided attempt to keep the focus on the bride. What about the bride who specifies the minimum allowed wedding gift purchase? Yeah, okay, my wedding is next month, and all guests must show up with a $500 plus wedding gift while wearing puce pantsuits, bowl-cut hairstyles (no inauthentic hair colors please!), and absolutely no makeup allowed! You laugh. But it happens.

Some brides use their wedding party as free labor. One bridesmaid complained of her friend’s goth wedding and the hand cramps and burned fingers that resulted. Apparently, the wedding party was “asked” to learn calligraphy to write the hundreds of handmade invitations the bride couldn’t trust to professionals. To complete the theme, they were required to seal them with hot wax. 

In true bridezilla fashion, one woman physically assaulted the shuttle driver when there wasn’t enough room for the entire wedding party. That outburst left them all stranded on the side of the road.

I read a story about a bride demanding that a bridesmaid either let her wear the bridesmaid’s necklace or take it off as it “looked nicer” than the bride’s jewelry. The bridesmaid had previously asked if personal jewelry was allowed. On top of that, the necklace was a dainty opal not the Crown Jewels. What the hell, folks?

Far too many brides choose outlandishly expensive dresses and leave the wedding party with the bill or demand the bridesmaids pay for the bouquets and entire bachelorette party at a costly destination event of the bride’s choosing and “day of” gifts for the bride. Perhaps the topper was a bride who, having worn a dress that required the assistance of three other women for bathroom functions, slapped a bridesmaid when she would not wipe her. Needless to say, that was the end of that friendship. Or at least, I sure hope it was.

These stories are just the tip of the iceberg and don’t even get me started on brides who willfully demand to exclude their partner’s children or friends and family who may have disabilities for fear of *gasp* marring the perfect photos of the perfect day. One bride-to-be had the gall to seek ways to ban her 3-year-old future stepdaughter from the wedding day (despite the groom’s excitement about having her included … or perhaps because of?), saying: “She’s three. I am marrying him not his crotch goblin. That’s his mistake not mine. I don’t want her there because she’s needy asf and makes everything about her.” All I can say is that I hope the groom discovered her true intentions and reexamined his relationship with this horrible human being.  

Too many relationships across the world have suffered under the demands of brides with ridiculous expectations. So, if you ever find yourself with your best friend from college or third cousin twice removed handing you a slip of paper or bestowing on you the “honor” of being her bridesmaid, perhaps you should think long and hard before answering yes. It just may be the perfect time to plan that year-long sabbatical.

The Tradition Continues

It’s that time of year again, folks!  Time for me to share my favorite movie scene, one that embodies the Thanksgiving Day spirit… or at least the spirit that dwells in my house.

So while I wish you all a truly blessed and happy Thanksgiving, without further adieu, may I introduce Ms. Wednesday Addams… at her best.

Happy Thanksgiving from me to you — Addams Family style.

Living the Wrong Life

I’m a reasonably confident person. I mean, I’ve made it this far in life and am still alive and mostly well. That has to count for something, right? Right!? Oh, sure, I’m awkward and filled with anxiety, and social situations are not exactly my thing. I still can’t make homemade seitan, but I didn’t think I was doing something wrong at EVERY turn. Now, thanks to the internet and yahoos with too much time on their hands, I’m not so sure.

Unfortunately, we are probably all pretty familiar with the articles and videos telling us how we’ve been doing such and such all wrong. They’re everywhere you look, so you end up viewing them whether you want to or not. These helpful how-to PSAs break down even the most basic tasks and rub in our faces how we have totally misunderstood items and their functions, things obviously so simple.

Peeling a banana. Apparently, monkeys know how to do this right way; it’s most humans that don’t. Peel it from the bottom to avoid squishing it. Perhaps this says even less about me, but upon application I learned that I can squish this fine yellow (and I would say inherently squishy) fruit no matter which end I peel it from.

I guess the same goes for slicing French bread. Flip that baby over and slice from the bottom, so it doesn’t get mushed. Based on my performance with the banana, I’m guessing that won’t be the case for me. I’m not sure what that says about me, but I’d rather not look too deeply into that one.

Hold a wine glass by the stem to avoid any unwanted warming from body heat. Okay, that one I knew. I do like my wine. But I still don’t follow this advice. Did I mention I’m awkward?  And clumsy?  And uncoordinated?  Yeah, it’s not a good idea for me to gracefully hold a wine glass by its stem… not if I want to maintain a steady grip on the delicate glassware, that is.  Because I have no grace. I think I’ve made that clear. And what tends to happen is the glass, much like myself when walking up steps, gets top heavy and tips over. Sometimes it happens slowly, which is pretty funny whether it’s me on the steps or the glass of wine on a white carpet, and then other times, it just happens with a sudden plop. Either way, it’s a mess. So, warm wine it is.

This one completely baffles me for a variety of reasons. Take the drawer under the oven, you know, the one where you store the pans and lids? Apparently, that is a warming drawer for keeping that green bean casserole warm while waiting for the main dish to finish baking. Now, I don’t know about your drawer, but mine seems to attract crumbs and dust, and other unsavory particles from the cooking, um, environment. How does a person keep those tidbits out of the drawer? I’d also rather not store any food I’m about to eat on the same level as my feet and dust bunnies, thank you very much. Also, perhaps a more relevant question, where in the hell do you keep all those pans and lids if not in that bottom drawer? Who has that kind of cabinet space?

Chinese take-out boxes are meant to be unfolded and used as a plate. I’ve seen countless actors and actresses on screen dig their forks and chopsticks into those boxes. Never once have I seen them unfold it and eat their dinner like a civilized person. I’m going to blame Hollywood for my ignorance there.

Speaking of messy foods, this next one is perhaps my favorite. I would argue there is no wrong way to eat a cupcake, but there is a way to avoid the icing mustache. This technique also lets you avoid the disappointment of being left with the not-as-exciting-and-delicious layer of un-frosted cake. Peel the paper, slice the cupcake halfway up from the bottom, take that bottom layer, flip it over on top of the icing, and press down. Voila, a cupcake sandwich!

You can go down your own rabbit hole of videos and articles on how wrong you’ve been doing things all your life. Of course, there are the classics like which way to set up the toilet paper roll and how to properly hang a shirt (apparently that little loop of fabric on the back is there for a reason), but I recently learned that I haven’t even been eating potato chips correctly! And with as much practice as I get, this revelation came as a surprise.

I try not to put too much stock into being told how wrong I am all the time by folks I don’t even know. I mean, hell, I get that enough from people I do know.  Seriously though, who needs the stress? I like to think I’ve lived a reasonably successful life. I mean, I get up in the morning and manage to make it through each day relatively well and sane despite eating squished bananas and drinking warm wine.

But, I do love the idea of cupcake sandwiches.

It’s Boo-Time, People

Well, it’s Halloween weekend; if you haven’t picked your costume out yet, chances are you are in trouble. Not that it matters if you are a woman, though; if you don’t want to be a “sexy kitten” you were out of luck to begin with.

Why do men get all the fun stuff?  They can be super heroes, bloody monsters, awesome villains, the Halloween world is at their feet.  What do all of their costumes have in common?  They are all warm and cozy.

Meanwhile, let’s take a look at female costumes.  “Sexy” firefighter.  “Sexy” vampire.  “Sexy” witch.  Hey, newsflash, costume makers; we don’t want to be sexy, we want to be warm!  Why do we need to have our legs bare (or covered in thin leggings) and half our chest hanging out on a chilly fall night?   These costumes just aren’t as sexy with a parka, are they?

If women want to be warm, we might as well make our own costumes.  Goodness knows, we have enough ideas at our fingertips.

    1. Mom at the School Bus Stop: Fuzzy bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, flannel pajamas, tangled hair streaked with traces of pancake mix from an ill-fated attempt to give the kids a “real” breakfast. Accessories: coffee mug – preferably filled, half-eaten pancake in hand, and hair curlers.
    2. Walmart Shopper: Sweatpants, stained sweatshirt, mismatched socks.  Accessories: optional hair curlers, oversized purse, smoldering credit card.
    3. Mom’s Night on the Town: High-waisted jeans, loose fitting sweater.  Accessories:  Boots, always boots.  Cell phone with babysitter on speed dial.  Added touch for authenticity: paper clip holding jeans zipper closed.
    4. Mom’s Dream Night: This is an easy one. Flannel pajamas. Accessories: wine bottle (if it’s empty, don’t judge), favorite blanket, remote control, empty house. No, seriously, go away so that I can enjoy the quiet in an empty house.
    5. Yoga Master: Yoga pants, expensive top.  Accessories: body double to properly wear yoga pants. Squeaky clean white sneakers.  Perky pony tail.  Unused gym membership.
    6. Car Pool Mom: Fleece comfy pants, untucked mismatched flannel shirt, hair mussed, wide-eyed look as if in a constant state of panic. Accessories: Wet wipes, travel mug, oversized sunglasses, massive schedule planner in hand, snacks.
    7. Work at Home Executive: Fleece or sweatpants and comfortable slippers, stylish business jacket and professional blouse for video meetings via webcam. Accessories: Laptop, coffee mug (again, preferably filled), professional hair style and make up.
    8. Small Business Owner, Retail Version: Jeans, sweater, sneakers. Accessories: Mussed hair, cell phone set to nonstop ring, yellow legal pad full of numbers, IV full of coffee.
    9. Small Business Owner, Professional Version: Pants suit, low-heeled shoes. Accessories: Mussed hair, cell phone set to nonstop ring, yellow legal pad full of numbers, IV full of coffee.
    10. New Mom Outfit: Puke stained sweatshirt, sweatpants with holes, mismatched socks, tangled hair, perfectly dressed baby. Accessories: Dark makeup under eyes, trashcan full of coffee, diaper bag stuffed with six weeks’ worth of diapers, stroller bigger than most cars.

I wish I knew why “store-bought” Halloween costumes for women cost so much when there is so damn little fabric included.  Even worse, if you are over the age of forty, no one wants to see us in “sexy” vampire, witch, or maid outfits; that reality is a little too much for most party-goers.

Meanwhile, I see men’s costumes that cost a fraction of what women’s do and are way cooler.  Michael Myers?  Freddie Krueger?  Deadpool, Superman, the Incredible Hulk?  I live for a Halloween when men are “sexy Freddie,” “sexy Michael,” and “sexy Hulk.”  Picture it; low cut costumes and skimpy bottoms…

On second thought, maybe not.

Hellish Construction

I’m just going to come out with a question that has been nagging at me for years. Why do companies and corporate offices insist on team-building exercises? What is the point of this torture? I mean, it’s almost as bad as mandatory group training. Maybe worse. Oh, I understand the intention is to create a stronger bond between employees to increase the quality of work and form relationships that will inspire us to stay on, blah blah blah. But that doesn’t mean those meetings and activities don’t feel like pure hell, especially for us introverts.

Even starting a meeting with detailed introductions is obnoxious and time-consuming. Why do I need to give my biography to these people? I don’t have things going on in my life that they need to care about. There is nothing that should be of interest to them and the work we need to do. Conversely, I don’t need to know about the details of their lives. Oh Cheryl, your daughter just had her 10th child? Congratulations, but what does that have to do with the project overview you were supposed to turn in yesterday? Also, is this an impolite time to mention the wonders of birth control?

I certainly don’t need to muddy the waters by getting to know folks or sharing my life story. I mean, honestly, unless everyone gets real cool about a bunch of stuff really quickly, it’s best I just keep things to myself.

introvert hell

Some of the team-building exercises floating around offices these days could potentially be an HR nightmare. Google corporate team-building exercises and the first option that pops up is Two truths and a Lie. This oddly popular game requires a person to make three statements (two true, one a lie, hence the name, folks), and the rest of the group is supposed to guess the lie. I can see where this would be a hoot with friends while having a drink over pizza. But there are so many things wrong with this game in a corporate setting. You know that saying, you can learn more by what a person doesn’t say than what they do say? I would say that concept applies here. The lie that someone makes up about themselves could say a lot about them. What about the response of the group? I can see trouble there as well. What if a player makes up a wildly outrageous lie, figuring they were safe from any post-game fallout later around the water cooler because surely the team would recognize such an outlandish fabrication… but because their coworkers have such a strange and unflattering opinion of them, they assume it’s one of the two truths? Talk about an awkward situation.

Here are my two truths and a lie:

  1. I hate team-building exercises.
  2. Team building exercises increase my productivity and help me form solid and lasting relationships with my beloved co-workers.
  3. I hate contrived social experiences in the workplace (or anywhere else, for that matter).

Some companies go with a more physical team-building exercise like camping or paintball (pretty sure I saw that in a horror movie once and it did not go well) or ax throwing. Ax throwing. Ax. Throwing. Oh sure, great idea!  Toss a few disgruntled employees with an ax to grind (I know, I know, I’m hilarious, I’m here all week) together in a small chute while flinging sharp objects as hard as they can… what can go wrong? It just might take that feud between IT and the creative team to a whole new level.

I may be a raging introvert with social anxiety, but believe it or not, I’m great with people (don’t roll your eyes at me), but team building exercises and forced introductions complete with a mini-bio (and fun fact, don’t forget the fun fact!) are more than just a chore for me; they are agony. I despise the pop quizzes from hell they throw at us last minute in staff meetings and being forced to depend on the coworker who couldn’t even meet their simple data analysis deadline last week for getting out of that escape room in 10 minutes? Yeah, no thanks.

Now, if you need me, I’ll be in my office, away from everyone else, and doing something productive… which is where I wanted to be in the first place.