2015-04-13

The Thing I Remember That Happened After "I Hammered A Cop"

This post is Part 2 of my "I Think I Hammered A Cop" story, a lovely Daddy-daughter memory. 
Click here to read Part 1 if you missed it. If you're thinking 'I wouldn't say I MISSED IT, Bob' you said it.

Continued:

The thing that I remember happening after the 'I think I hammered a cop' thing, was my first Office Job job interview. So yes, it's totally fitting that a scene from Office Space is here.

The company developed workforce software for large companies and grew very quickly in the early 90's. For many reasons, some of which included the president of the company caring more about his extra-marital affair with the head of marketing than the actual company, it went out of business. 

Not before I managed to accrue thousands of dollars of medical bills that their self-funded insurance would never cover. I'm calling it a personal Win, however, for reasons I'll get into later.

Cut to my interview. 

The Vice President of the company, and I really want to make up a dramatic, soap opera name for this story, but I simply MUST share the actual name of the company. They're long gone, or bought out or acquired or whatever happened early 90's but the name is just so classic 80's software company.

I came to work there in the the early 90's, but the logo name and font screamed 80's:
Infotronix 
Right? 
or was it Infotron-X
I think the X was capitalized at the end.
Meh, either way.

Can't you just see the blue 8-bit font when you read that name? InfotronX. I hear it spoken in a computal robot voice. 

There are still things floating around the internet with that name, but it doesn't have the logo they had then. Kind of this.
This was the font, but in IBM blue. Literally. Probably.
from lucapedroti.com
The VP asked me how I heard about the job, and I told her honestly,
"My father's friend's girlfriend Dee works here. She's Assistant to the President." 

The President (I guess this was before "CEO" became the lingo) turned out to be the VP's brother. She was suddenly very interested in my dad's friend, and asked me a lot of questions. 
What was his name? 
Dwayne.
Dwayne?
Yes.
(She asked his last name, I don't know if I knew it then. I didn't remember it at all when I started writing this, but my brother reminded me at Easter. I'll leave that out even though it would hysterical to see how many police reports, court articles and restraining order-type internet results would come up from searching it. It's a rather common name, so I would hate to incriminate any innocent people with that name.)

How long has this been her boyfriend?
I really don't know. He's my father's friend.
(How the hell would I know that?)

Thank all the gods old and new, I avoided Dwayne even more than I avoided my old man, because I didn't know anything about him. Except that he was a big ole drunk, bumbling ass of a man. I didn't mention that to her.

After answering many uncomfortable and obviously personal questions, I finally got to meet Dwayne's girlfriend. Not what I expected.

She was much younger than Dwayne, I was shocked by how pretty she was. And you know, sober. If you missed last week's post, Dwayne was a walking whiskey bag. 

She was a very polite, professional woman of the 80's, (even though 90's) all smiles and tight dress and very high heels and all 'so nice to meet you' and 'I've heard so much about you.' 

Then as soon as we were alone, she morphed completely. Her face melted from a calm, confident ear-to-ear all-perfectly-white-teeth smile into an urgent grimace of evil. Her eyes wanted to melt me down into a puddle of water. That could not talk. That could not for Christsake say anything else. 
She demanded,
"WHY would you tell her that Dwayne is my boyfriend?!"

That's what my father told me, I explained innocently. And truthfully.

Ooohh noooo, she assured me. That father of mine, what the hell?! She noticed how confused I was, kind of paused and went with, 
"Oh, your dad, he's such a goof." 
Dwayne just couldn't be her boyfriend, she literally insisted through clenched teeth: She is MARRIED. 

And everyone at the company knows it. 

Silly me.

This isn't true, my father is just teasing her. He just loves to tease people, he's really just too much. You don't know the half of it, Missy. Well, it turned out she did.

Buuuut, anway....

This was my introduction to the world of Office Jobs. 

One of the most uncomfortable situations you can possibly imagine in life, let alone for your first interview for a job with insurance benefits.

Somehow I got the job. Either the VP loved me, she always helped me while I was there, or more likely she just wanted to gleen more information about her brother's assistant from me. Or mayhaps my old man had something on Dee and was successfully able to convinced her to put in a good word for me or something.

Either way they hired me and I learned oh-so-very-much about the political back-stabbing, cheating, walk on top of people to get ahead, two-faced, lying liars who lie world of Office BUSINESS. 

The VP definitely did try to get more interesting information out of me about Dee, this woman who was her brother's assistant. And bat shit crazy. Again, I'm not being dramatic here. She was having an affair. With my dad's disgusting, smelly drunk drug-addled friend, who thinks he hammered a cop. Just exactly how all modern love stories begin.

The confusing tone of the day of my interview would be the nature of mine and Dee's relationship. She would smile and compliment everyone, and be as polite as Jane Fonda in 9 to 5. Then when people walked away, she would tell me their darkest secrets. 

She would tell me who was having an affair, though it was always obvious. This was before cell phones and email, so you had to dramatically follow people around, talking and whispering, at work, because you couldn't communicate with your affair AT HOME. She would tell me who was smart, who was stupid, who got their kid a job, though again it was obvious because they had the same last name, would go to lunch together and the daughter called him "Dad" all the time. But she told me. 

She told me who had to be dropped off at work, or take a cab when their wife was out of town, because he had his license revoked. She told me who lived in a giant mansion, who drove a Porsche, despite the fact that this man walked around in a Porsche jacket and hat all the time. She told me. 

She told me who needed to quit smoking or "she would die" even though I sat at the reception desk and waived to this nice lady 10 times a day when she smoked in the center of the building. You could still smoke inside, but most people kindly went to a 'designated area' separated from offices, by glass doors. When the doors opened, you could smell the smoke.

But in front of people? She was all sweet sunshine and big-sisterly advice:
"You need to get yourself some nice, figure-flattering dresses and high heels for work." Barf. These were her workplace weapons: Secrets, low cut tops and high, high heels. Though, it was a man's world and she survived in it.

"You need to work on typing faster." She somehow got me an electronic typewriter with this awesome little screen, so you could SEE THE WORDS, about 2 sentences worth, and make corrections before the typewriter typed them! They let me keep it at the reception desk, saying I could help fill out forms and whatnot. Yes kids, I'm learned to type on a typewriter years old.
Ah, sweet nostalgic 80's technology. This story takes place in the early 90's, but a lot of the technology and mindset was all 80's.

"You need to learn WordPerfect." Actually I think this was the VP's idea. She said if I took a class the company would reimburse me for it. And they did.
You kept a cheat sheet of F commands at all times! from stsci.edu

WordPerfect was the MSWord of the 90's. Once the company figured out I could do other things, they gave me more tasks and eventually put a computer at the reception desk. This made one of the company's secretaries, Lisa, very angry. Lisa was the roommate of the marketing director who was having the affair with the President. Lisa hated me so very much it gave her Multiple Sclerosis. I believe she stressed herself out SO MUCH worrying about my every move, that she broke herself. She was on a 'leave of absence' for a long time. 


This would not hold 1 of today's Facebook pictures
from kupaterapist.com
But me, with my 90's black-screen and green font computer, I started with simple things like FORMATTING floppy disks, because people had to actually physically do that before using them, and these kinds of tasks. 

That company didn't promote me, but if you can wear dress clothes, type and do a few other tasks? You can be an assistant, an Executive Assistant, Personal Assistant and lots of other titles that pay more than the receptionist gig, and come with medical, dental and paid vacay. 

Not a bad damn gig for a 17-yr old whose entire discussion about college with her parents went like this:
"Dad, my counselor told me to have a talk with you about college."
My Dad: "You won't go."
Cue my old man leaving the room to really drive home the point that this discussion was OVER. Forever.

So I got this receptionist job, learned some things, and my next job was a secretarial/assistant job. In that job I learned some things, took classes at night, got better jobs and just kept doing that. My whole life. Because I had no other option. 

By the end of my time with this company, my parents announced their divorce. My father got stuck with my brother and my mother got stuck with me. Not sure if they rolled dice or what. My mother had actual career options, in another part of the state, but tried to hold on to a household up North so my brother and I had options. But those options included my working full time.

The End.

Not really, but this is where I should end this post before starting the next strange chapter of my life story.

I'm forever thankful that job came with insurance. That saved me from some major medical issues (I believed they called it 'pre-cancer' at the time) which would have gotten much worse if not caught in time. The surgeries were necessary, the bills eventually got paid somehow.

The company was run by a terrible family of fictional-level villains. I'm talking Lifetime Television movie of the week evil, I should write a book about them, and they left everyone in a lurch when eventually everyone was let go. 

I have no idea how the story ends for the company, the owners, or my dad's friend for that matter. Since then I've tried not to look back. My brother says somehow Dwayne still lives. As does his 'girlfriend' or whatever, Dee. I know Dee is still alive and was still sketchy sanity-wise as of about a year ago, but let's nevermind how I know that. That's a loooong-ass story.

Or mayhaps it's several short stories, presented to you once a week in these posts. Technically I think I could write about some of it now. Seeing as my old man is dead. I don't think Dwayne can read. And I also know that Dee has informed her mother never to speak to my family again. True story. So almost 30 years later Dee is still helping me in her own way without really knowing it. I'm assuming that means that she won't speak to us again, right? 

I'm hesitant to open that Pandora's box. Though I know that one day I must. I don't know if everyone in my family wants that box opened.

THE END.
For now, okay?

Well, one more thing.

The VP did have the company write me a 'bonus' check for $1,500 to immediately get a new car when someone forced her to take a look at the car I drove.

TO BE CONTINUED

2015-04-11

BoxBall & Christmas In April

I may actually TToT 2 weeks in a row.
Holla.
Though sorry if I didn't get back to you last week, like Marsha Brady "something suddenly came up." Called Life.

We have so much to be thankful for. Usually I'm taking the crappenings and just being thankful they're not worse and whatnot, but I don't even have to do that. Good things are in the air. 

First thing on my mind:
Game of Thrones is starting again!
Cersei and Tyrion, in honor of National Siblings Day
If you don't know what that is, please let me go on and on about it for you. The books are the best thing that has ever happened to me in my life, my family are happy to report, and the show is the next best thing. I wrote a post about it here, CLICKforAWESOMEpost click that and I will be glad to even tell you more if that's not enough. 

I may be performing another 'emergency' wedding in the next couple of weeks! Reader's Digest Condensed story:
Friend of a friend has a diagnosis with immediate, urgent treatment necessary. She was engaged and now wants to be married before starting treatment. The church isn't able to help her move up her wedding for whatever reason. As long as they have their paperwork, I'm happy to help. And feed my cake addiction. Mostly help people grow their love.
Love, and the proper paperwork. from pamelagottfried.com
And thankful to have such a wonderful friend, who is trying their best to arrange a wedding and reception in 2 weeks using whatever means necessary. 

Thankful we don't live where tornadoes ever touch down. No  superstitious people, that will not make one . 
We might be too close to Lake Michigan or something. They had some to the West, gods help them, but don't here.

Shout out to Daniel Tosh, who calls the Midwest a place for people who gave up on their dreams. Now with the ungodly amount of snow in the northeast this year, and the drought in the west, it's not looking so bad I guess.

Thankful we don't live where this is a water shortage. Not yet anyway *knocks wooden table made in 1937 because we don't feel the need to get new everything all the time

I'm not thankful for any water shortage anywhere, but I hope to soon be thankful for desalinization of ocean water, which they are FINALLY going to do again. 
California started at one point, but it's expensive, and they stopped sometime in the early 90's. Hopefully they can tweak the process and/or technology and make use of the planet's water.

Thankful people are starting to (hopefully) be more aware of what we do to our planet. Instead of shutting our eyes, pretending we have little to no impact and throwing everything in the garbage as our country loves to do. Every day needs to be earth day for awhile.

This weekend is our annual family Polish Christmas party. In April. We'll sing Christmas songs, exchange a few gifts, eat Polish food and laugh at each other. And with each other. Sure.

Thankful my future BIL, the one I'm going to marry in September, is going to help us with our basement. It needs so much work, we're not sure where/how to start. We can't just hire a construction company and write a check, so it's nice to have an affordable option to move forward in some way. 

The last occupants, bless their hearts, nailed dark wooden paneling right to the studs. It doesn't feel like there is any kind of insulation or anything. In the winter it's like living over a giant freezer.

We also may open it up and take WALLS down. Leaving any load-bearing studs/posts, I'm hoping. I'll be sure to include before and after photos, for insurance purposes if nothing else. NO I'm kidding. It'll be fine. It literally cannot be any worse, so what the heck. (Yes, insurance is thankfully paid up.)  I'll be beyond thankful to make that brighter, warmer, and more COMFY because it is, after all the basement of Comfytown. And it doesn't look like it. 

I really want the Graceland TCB blue and yellow and mirrors basement, but I doubt Alex will go for that. He's gonna be like,
"NO thank you vera'much" with the Elvis lip thing.
Actual Basement of Graceland. We visited on our 1st actual vacation (3-day weekend) together.
AWESOME, right? TCB = Takin Care of Business
We DO have a jungle room, but it's not like Graceland's jungle room. It's just painted blue on top, green on bottom. I wanted to FILL THE CEILING with fake plants, but thankfully the hobby store guy said his cousins' in-laws did that and they're always overwhelmed with dust, super hard to clean. 
As part of preparation, we're cleaning out my son's room. He's never in there, so we'll store stuff in there and move the girls eventually. I've come across lots of memories, making me thankfully nostalgic. I may do a post, depending on timing and whether it seems interesting to anyone other than me. Doubtful.

This is one thing. It's, well, it is what it is.

It was a box. Now it's a ball.

For what?
For BoxBall, of course.

Boxball is a game my son and I made up when he was younger. We used to play all the time in our tiny apartment with the cinder block walls. I'm so thankful to be reminded of those times. Tiny apartment, not a lot of money but just tons of fun and happy, thankful togetherness.

BoxBall is pretty much volleyball played with a box, while standing on your knees, and random rally-point scoring. The original box we used was a 30-pack of soda, or maybe beer? That square-ish type of case. It was perfect. Until it ripped. 
from sodayoda.com
Those boxes are harder to find than you might think. Things usually come in the 24-can variety, but that rectangle box won't work. 

I'm here to tell you: You can't volley a rectangle. 

Most square boxes? Are too heavy for this game.

Then we tried to get fancy and use that box in the picture covered in duct tape. Don't do that. That made the box way too heavy and it kills your wrists. And lamps. And anything else it touches. That has to be 10. 

This lovely list (it's almost a list?) is part of the greatest online community of all time that doesn't include porn, The Ten Things of Thankful.



2015-04-06

"I Think I Hammered A Cop" A My Old Man Story

When something triggers my memory, I try to write it down. Or the stories will be gone forever, I fear. My memory is bad.

A blog post from one of my favorite bloggers about finally disposing of her dead dad's ashes, which she doesn't even know how she came to possess, triggered a memory. 

She wrote about her father playing craps and hitting someone with a hammer. Which of course triggered a fatherly memory buried in my dusty vault, about my dad's friend. 

I'm sure you can relate to that. 

Unless you don't actually have a family story about someone hitting another human being with a hammer. I don't know your life. 

Did you watch the TV show, Mash? 
Sorry M*A*S*H
If you watched, you know.

There's an episode where Hawkeye's richy-rich stuffy bunkmate, Charles Emerson Winchester III, tells Hawkeye with jealousy, that Winchester had a father, but Hawkeye has a dad. That always stayed with me. I didn't have a father, I had a dad. Most of the time I felt more like I had an old man. This is a "my old man" story.

I've written a little about my old man, but I did it right after he died, so it was all tributary and what a great guy. And for the most part, he was. He stuck around, paid bills, the works.

He was also ... a character. Let's say. 

Where your dad might have taught you how to catch a baseball, my dad taught me never to bet out of turn at the poker table. 

Also:
You never check the bet and then raise the bet. I literally cannot repeat what that makes you when you do that. 

Another Fun Fact:
You also play what you called, NOT what you have. It doesn't matter what you have, you called 3 of a kind. I separated these not for emphasis, but so you can remember. You should pin this to your Good Life Decisions pinterest board, it could save you a fist fight depending on who you play poker with.

You know, that kind of thing. Good advice. Look for my sequel to "Rich Dad, Poor Dad" called White Trash Dad.

So...this story takes place when I was 17 years old. I had just graduated high school. I was living with my parents, working part time and going to community college part time. I was paying for my own classes, books, etc. 

This of course did not make my father happy or proud in any way. He kept telling me I needed a 'direction' in my life, to get a life, to start a life, yadda yadda old man dad stuff.

He thought surely by age seven-teen I should be off on my own, married and shitting out kids like a Pez dispenser. I mean, that's the dream, right? Why didn't I want that? I wasn't about to swing that way, and don't call me Surely.

He would have been very happy if I lived in a trailer with tons of kids, or some shotgun shack built out of sod, or in the military off at war, or whatever just as long as it wasn't under his roof. 

Since I was clearly a total deadbeat to him, my old man took upon himself to 'help me out.' And by out, I mean out of his house. That is literally all he ever wanted for me and my younger brother. And really, all I ever wanted myself. We had no idea what his motives really were, or just how quickly and urgently he wanted us out. This is not the time to get into all of that. One day. Not today.

Anyway he had this awful drinking buddy, Dwayne. My stomach clenches just thinking about him. I think maybe they met in one of my father's more legal attempts at making money, selling meat door to door. Or maybe they just did that together, coming up with scams like,
"I'm going to get fired if I don't make a sale today." My old man pulled that one on my sister, at the time a young mother struggling to pay her own bills. It worked. 

Anyway, Dwayne made my dirty joke telling, whiskey bottle hiding father look like a fairytale prince. He explained to me that Dwayne's girlfriend worked for a 'computer company,' said with the tone of someone who is talking about a Ponzy scheme. My dad wasn't a fan of non-traditional jobs. If you couldn't buy a mug for it? It wasn't necessary.
PersonalizationMall.com

To my old man, these are real professions:
Police
Fire Fighter
Doctor
Lawyer
Plumber

and for women,
Teacher
Secretary

To him, THOSE are jobs. Anything involving a computer, or technical jobs that came about after say 1970, that he didn't understand was just a waste of time to my old man. You would have better luck talking to him about tricking people into meat sales, than software engineering. Take from me, one of the first girls who went to school for such nonsense.

This company he wanted me to work for had a full-time opening with benefits, so that was good enough to get me out of his house. My old man told me to go to this company, Dwayne's girlfriend arranged an interview. They were looking for a receptionist, and they wanted someone 'pretty' so I needed to look nice. I know, I can't even. 

The day my father got the idea that I should work for this company Dwayne was at our house. Somehow it came up that shouldn't Dwayne be in court that day. Someone (not me) had the nerve to ask him,
"What did you do?"

"What do you mean, what did I do?" He replied lawyerly.

"To have to go to court, what did you do?"

"I think I hammered a cop." Was his response.

"You think?" I'm sure we all replied. At least mentally.

"Well, I don't remember but that's what they said."

The Prosecution rests.

I don't remember what happened court-wise, whether he got 100 years probation or still has a warrant for his arrest to this day. I just remember the hammered a cop part. That's the kind of thing that stays with a kid. I asked my brother, who had the misfortune of living with my father, and for bouts of time Dwayne the infamous walking whiskey bag, but he doesn't remember that particular court case. There were a LOT. 

This is a man who got run over walking drunk on the highway and lived to mumble about it. Dwayne was addicted to pain pills among other things, so he probably didn't feel a thing. 

Point is, Dude had adventures. Like the alky Forest Gump. You read all these articles about vegetables, vitamins, drinking water and whatnot, and then here is this guy. Basically a human booze-soaked ashtray and on and on he lives.

I do remember one thing that happened after this, but my husband says this post is already way too long and should be split into 3 pieces. Sooooo.....

TO BE CONTINUED



_______________
Here's the post that triggered this memory if you like. I highly recommend it. She's much more funny than I am. Real talk.
http://bitchesgottaeat.blogspot.com/2015/04/im-taking-my-dead-dad-on-vacation.html


2015-04-03

Putting The Puppy Down For A Minute

So much to be thankful for this week. Spring means many things, like asparagus is in season!
from toptenz.net
My goddaughter's birthday and Easter, which means Easter CANDY. Err, I mean family and whatnot.
Protip: Those malted milk robin's eggs make awesome candy lip stick. 

I'm sure everyone else is covering the weather, but it's worth a mention.
Snowman Burning Day.
Yes, that's a thing.
Click the link to read more.

NO MORE FREAKING SNOW. 

Probably.

You never do know for sure.
But for a few months, anyway.

That's huge right now.

Thank you, Universe.

Last weekend I performed my first wedding and it was an awe-filled, really amazing but not like all the kids say EVERYTHING is amazing, I was amazed to be a part of it. I wrote more about it here so click that if you're curious, but it went off pretty smoothly with no injuries or super embarrassing moments. Phew!

This past week was Spring Break for kids from school, and by some miracle of all the gods old and new I also had a week off of work! HUZZAH! 

You might be thinking, 'what's the big deal? Don't you work from home?' and if so let me just try to demonstrate the difference between a normal week and a week off.

Imagine carrying a 40-pound puppy with you everywhere you go. 
from barkpost.com
Okay, maybe you don't have to carry it every minute but you do have to keep it with you every minute of every day because otherwise this puppy will chew stuff it's not supposed to, climb the walls, literally where there are shelves, take toys from your kids and/or randomly poke through things in your house that's it's not supposed to. 
jessilovescoffee.tumblr.com
So you keep the puppy with you, and yeah, you're still in your house and all, but you have this puppy you didn't want and it's always jumping on you, licking you, demanding your attention, and just TRY to do normal household tasks, or gods forbid pay any attention to your children ohnoyouDIDN'T with a needy puppy around.


dogbeds-info.com
And it's a PUPPY, a puppy whose mom allows it to eat a giant bowl of Sugar-Frosted Crack Cocaine-O's for breakfast every day, and apparently doesn't get enough attention at home, so it's really hyper, running, jumping all over the place, trying to lick your face and be in your face constantly. LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK WHAT I DID NOW LOOK I CHANGED ONE THING LOOK AT ME LOOK YOU'RE NOT LOOKING ENOUGH! LOOOOOK! LOOK AT MEEEEE!
ceasarsway.com

You don't want to leave the room, make a phone call, go to the bathroom, or take your potty training 3 yr old to the bathroom, 517 times a day, because you don't know what you'll come back to find. 

And then, for one blessed week someone comes along and takes the puppy away

And you can breathe again, and hear your own thoughts. Well, sometimes. 

You still have your own 2 little ones, but now you can hear THEM and see them and HUH, PLAY WITH THEM! You keep looking around for that annoying puppy out of habit, but then you remember IT'S GONE FOR THIS ONE BLESSED WEEK! 
ineedthisforreactions.tumblr.com
You get the idea. So for this one week, I don't have to cook anything extra for one picky eater, or have additional activities for puppies who hate everything that isn't video games. Nor do I have to round up ALL the puppies into their various car seats, drive across town to the puppy's sister's school, unbuckle everyone, march them across the parking lot and into the school, only to have the after-school daycare lady tell me,
"She's not even here today."

Her mom didn't tell me that.

And then not get paid for that.

I don't have to hear how terrible my food is, 
or how they "do like chili, just not this chili" 
or hear how horrible our selection of television channels is, or how boring my house is, or work around THREE turns at everything, just my two. Yaaaaaay!

We were finally able to do Lola's 5 yr checkup, during which she asked the doctor if she was going to check her "Knee-flexes" which she did. All good. She got FOUR shots, because I'm not interested in bringing back any olde timey diseases and killing innocent children just because some misinformed celebrity doesn't want to be bothered with vaccinating their children. 

The process of getting 4 shots was momentarily devastating to my little sensitive drama queen, but she can finally walk again. 

She always could, but she she really drew out a limp for awhile. She was able to RUN today, to out-run her sister to push the elevator button at the library, so it would seem she's fine. Plus bonus, she won't die a horrible painful death from measles. Phew. 

We went to the zoo, colored Easter eggs, had play dates with Lola's school chums and basically did WHATEVER WE WANTED. Which wasn't much, but we had a great week together and for that I'm eternally thankful. If you ever want to be truly thankful for each precious moment with your kids, watch someone else's for awhile and I guarantee, every moment alone with your own is a total, precious gift. I am thankful for the opportunity to work at home with my own, and experience what that is like. Daycare is expensive because it's worth it :) it's hard work if you want the kids happy and healthy. Which I do.

These rambling babbles were part of a great community of thankful, The Ten Things of Thankful. 










2015-03-30

Once Upon A Happily Ever After: My 1st Wedding

Once upon a time there was a beautiful Princess, who loved books and was raised by the kind and benevolent King and Queen to be not only crafty and clever, but generous and giving. She did many good deeds for the kingdom, volunteering her time and talents, where she met a silly minister and they quickly became friends. 


Every summer the Princess and the Queen would meet with the silly minister to throw elaborately-crafted, themed parties and care for many tired, smelly walking people. 

They had great fun. 

And raised money and junk for charity also.
One day the beautiful Princess met her Prince Charming and knew there something special, magical and musical happening between them. They faced many trials and tribulations, faced fire swamps, slayed dragons and fell in love all storybook-like.
I worked this into the cerermony quietly right before the vows. From 123Photobucket.com
They had a storybook wedding, in a beautiful castle.
ACTUAL VENUE. The ceremony took place on that landing on the right. TheCopernicusCenter
They made beautiful music together - no, quite literally. The bride sang Irish tunes with the band, her Father and new Father-In-Law joined in and the groom played a celtic drum - to begin their fairytale lives. 
Bodhran, Celtic drum.
from musicbrokers.com

The silly minister stumbled through the ceremony with a shaky, mouse voice through tears and some people in attendance even said they could hear her.


Meh, it's all legal and done now.


The End

And that’s pretty much the story of my first wedding. 


Er, that was the first wedding I OFFICIATED anyway. Everyone survived, no Mosby-esque YouTube video fame, not yet anyway, though I do need to work on my ‘outside voice’ a little more and sobbing like a cartoon cat caught in a mouse trap a little less.

It was the MOST FUN wedding. The crafty bride did so much of everything herself, I'm amazed by some people. She had paper flowers made from pages of books, mixed in with REAL flowers for her bouquet and everyone's flowers. 

I didn't get a picture, but here's an example below from good ole Pinterest. 

They were gorgeous and very clever, like everything she does.

The tables were all named for fictional places like Hogsmeade, Gotham and Emerald City and we sat in Casterly Rock. We made sure like Lannisters to always pay our debts, though we didn't have sex with our siblings or murder anyone, really anyone at all.

Yes, each and every table had these gorgeous candle pots and 3 beautiful hard-cover books like this one. At the rehearsal dinner, each table had a painted quill in an inkpot, which she crafted with mod podge and ink herself. She not only was a Girl Scout, she works for them.

Perfect day, beautiful couple, wonderful families. I was very glad to be a part of it. It's one of the best things I've ever done actually. Knowing I was part of joining two amazing people, and stepping a wee bit outside of my comfort zone. I used to have a pretty bad fear of any kind of public (or even mostly private) speaking. While volunteering for the 3-Day Walk for Breast Cancer, ironically where I met the bride and her mother, they needed speakers for several training and Crew meetings. 
The Queen, bride's mother, no doubt the reason she's so amazing.
I worked my way up as a team captain, then a coach of captains, then a captain mentor and spoke to different groups of people, to speaking to larger and larger groups, giving demonstrations, providing training and even speaking before the entire Crew of hundreds, and managed to kill that fear. 
Look how THRILLED I appear to be. Yeah, enthusiasm took awhile.....still waiting.
There are few things that feel better than facing a fear and kicking it's butt. That nervous, am-I-excited-or-am-I-going-to-throw-up? feeling makes you feel alive.

It's the closest we come in our time to slaying a dragon and I highly recommend it.
The flower girl carried a sign like this one. thewritersloop.me
I didn't have my camera with me most of the day for pictures.