BRIDES, BALLS & POTENTIAL BANGING

I'M SO UNDESERVING!
Once upon a time...well actually, on New Year's Eve, my dear friends April and Mark became engaged. I'm so excruciatingly happy for them and know they will last a lifetime. They are one of those examples of a couple you use when referencing a good couple in conversation. I can't explain how happy I am for them. They will be getting married in May 2007. Almost immediately after telling April not to listen to what anybody tells her, and to tell people to shut their mouths if they give her their opinions, I tell her there is a bridal show in Bellevue and she should really go to get some ideas as people book up a year to a year and a half in advanced. I have become my own worst nightmare....the "when I got married" friend. I mean, shit! I got married eight fucking years ago and it ended five years ago! Should I really be giving ANYONE any advice on weddings? I mean for one, nothing costs what it did back in 1998. I'm sure half the businesses that were around back then are out of business nowadays. The only thing I have any right to tell anyone about marriage is what NOT to do. At least I've learned, right?

So anyways, after convincing April she should go to the bridal show, she asks me to come with her and I agree to. Between me and two engagements, and my sister and three engagements, and I think a couple of friends and their one engagement, I have been to a hell of a lot of these bridal shows. They are scary. You will never see so much blonde hair in one place. I'm not kidding either! It's like a Barbie cult...tiny blondes with their airbrushed or tanning bed tans, flipping their hair and reapplying their lipstick in the restroom. Sunglasses are well needed at these shows as well from everyone flashing their damned rings trying to outsparkle each other. And many of them are there with their mothers whining and scowling at the woman who gave them life, while the mother looks like she will piss herself happy to control her soon-to-be Stepford wife in the making and her wedding, or will strangle herself if her daughter won't shut up. Luckily April is not like this.

We are standing in line looking kind of scared. We look around at what we have to deal with. Sure enough a sea of tiny, tan, blondes that use their left hand a lot when they speak. I feel slightly annoyed already. At least none of them weigh over 90 pounds, so I can definitely kick ass if anyone gets too annoying. I saw one girl the size of a turd I once had for Pete's sake! So we get to the ticket taker and April hands him the tickets she's purchased for the show. Immediately April is accosted by what surely is either a Mormon or the mother of a former cheerleader.

"Who's the bride-to-be?" she asks with WAY too much enthusiasm.

"I am," says April in her calm, mellow voice that has a touch of "oh shit" to it.

The Mormon/cheerleading mother is disappointed in April. "You're supposed to be, 'I AM!'" she encourages April as she shouts how April should have responded. April looks annoyed and I'm trying not to laugh at the fact I know April now despises this woman. "Now, let's try that again. WHO'S THE BRIDE-TO-BE?" she cheers.

"I am," says April in the same mellow voice, with now a hint of annoyance.

The woman is clearly disappointed in April and hands her the bright pink, heart-shaped sticker stating that April is indeed the bride-to-be. We walk away and I tell her she got in trouble. I think this is so funny.

We walk through the maze of vendors and scary people. We comment and laugh and wander about, stopping at times for April to ask questions of vendors. Then it happened. We reach the back where the stage for the fashion show is set up, however there is no fashion show. We round the corner and I hear this girl saying something about the Taliban (pronouncing it Tally-Ban) and says she'd like to know why he did the things he did. There in all the bridal horror to be expected, was Bridal Survivor. Apparently this radio station took seven soon-to-be brides and locked them up for nine days and did a Survivor-like game that included reward challenges and such. All the competitors were up there, but they had already decided the final two. They were asking them questions like a beauty pageant, and April and I kept looking at each other cracking up as we watched a couple of monkey impersonations and tears of hope as they each said why they deserved the $16,500 wedding that would be provided to the winner. It was soooooo cheesey!

Each participating bride that had already lost was then asked to come up and cast their vote just like in Survivor. The did so as the two finalists stood holding hands. The super short girl holding the hand of the really tall girl, both dreaming of their promised honeymoon in Cabo San Lucas, both dreaming of how much blonder their already blonde hair was going to get in the hot, Mexican sun. The ballots had now been cast. Mr. DJ man goes to the ballot box and reads off the names of each and the tall girl won, and the tall girl sobbed like a baby.

"I'd like to thank 92.5 for this amazing opportunity!" she exclaimed through the tears and I'm really rooting for the fact she had some snot going as well. "I'm sooooo undeserving of this!"

And then this really tall man stood up and joined his really tall winning bride-to-be, and the two petite redheads turned the corner to vomit.

SUPERBOWL FOR MY HOLE!
Can you fucking believe we are going to the Superbowl? I'm sooooo excited for the Seahawks! We kicked the Panther's ass! I have to admit that I was nervous, as we all know the Panthers are a really strong team, but we came out just ablazing!!!! I watched the games with some of my friends, and had a great time. I learned not to let my tourette's get out of control and talk about how old I was when I first bought tampons, particularly being that I was sitting there with four guys who got really quiet before I realized what I was saying and was then informed that was one of those things you don't discuss during the game.

So we are regrouping in two weeks for the Superbowl, which I'm soooo excited about! And after today and another random thought, I'm even more excited!

Quick break here.

Now, we all know I am fast approaching my year of no men. I'm talking I have not done more than hug a man since the night of March 19, 2005. No dating, no kissing, no touching naughty bits, nothing. I am going insane and may mentally snap before then, or possibly just shut down and sit in a corner drooling with glee while I make origami with my garbage. I know I can make it, but it's pissing me off. I mean, back in December I met a really cool guy, but had to inform him (not had to, but chose to after too many Long Islands) that I was a virgin until March and he would surely not want to go out with me. Do you know how bad this sucks?

Anyways, I decided to have a "Like a Virgin or Saint Patrick" party at a pub on St. Patrick's day to celebrate the holiday and the fact that for the first time since before losing my virginity, I have gone a year without sex. And worse is that for the first time since before the age of 14, I have gone a year without kissing. KISSING I tell you! THAT is really bothering me!

To answer the question I keep getting asked, no I am not going to just go out and try to get laid once I make my year. I'm sure this is just the beginning of the long road of Hell that is to be my life because I do not want to screw someone until I'm in a relationship with them, or at least exclusively dating them, which I guess is a relationship. Shit that sounded more obtainable at first. However, I might have to allow myself to be a bit of a cock tease and make out with anything that moves after my year has been completed. AND I will not taste of smoke! Yep, three weeks tomorrow cold turkey.

Okay, so back to the Superbowl part of all this.

Today I'm doing my daily emails with April and Chad and mention that I think that if the Seahawks win the Superbowl, I should be allowed to end my year of no lovin' early. Now, once again it's not like I have anyone waiting in the wings. All three boys I've been interested in during this abstinence road of Hell, have been in relationships since I've known them, so that nixes that. However, to just have this pressure off my coo...I can't tell you how nice that would be. And dear God I just want to make out with someone for like two days!

April has suggested that I write to the Seahawks and tell them of my ordeal so that it will be more encouragement for them to win the Superbowl. She said to somehow incorporate the whole "Twelfth Player" slogan into it. I was thinking something like "Win for Player Twelve! Put my Virginity on the Shelf!" The Seahawks would then win the Superbowl to save my coo and I would be interviewed on TV about my letter that helped motivate them to win the game. I could then screw the unobtainable boy right there on camera, and all the while I will shout, "SUPERBOWL FOR MY HOLE!"

I just might have to write me a letter

Good night all! And PLEASE root for the Hawks so my coo can breathe!!!

Love,

Heather McDuffin
The Egg McMuffin