Weddings and Hanukkah

So this weekend I attended a wedding in which Timmy was the best man. The 4th time he's been a best man! Who knew he had so many BFF’s? Anyway, I had never met the bride and had only twice very briefly met the groom. I also knew none of the guests. This was uncomfortable enough, but considering that I got divorced this month, it made for one sucky evening.

So as I was sitting by myself after the ceremony, while Timmy took pictures with the wedding party, it occurred to me that from my perspective, weddings are kind of like Hanukkah. In that both are a foreign concept to me, I’m not Jewish, nor am I a “wedding” girl. I have gone to, and been a bridesmaid in some very nice weddings. But whenever I go to one, I always feel like I am observing an unfamiliar cultural custom or tradition. I respect it, try to enjoy it, just don’t really understand it. Weird food, odd music, you need to bring a present, having to be touched by people- its all too much. Not that I judge people who have them, or Hanukkah celebrations for that matter…whatever makes you happy.

When I got married 10 years ago there was no wedding, just a humorously brief ceremony by a French wannabe priest named Jean Marc. In a chapel on the Vegas strip, across from Circus Circus, that has since been torn down. Elvis was there, but we didn’t pay extra to have him perform the ceremony. That was the first time. What do you do to follow that up? If there is a second marriage, I can’t imagine having a wedding then either. I just have a comprehension gap when it comes to weddings.

Especially second weddings. Its like, “no really, THIS time I mean forever”. How hypocritical. How many times can you stand up in front of your friends and family and make such an important promise? Liz Taylor did seven times. SEVEN. If I were her friend, by the 3rd or 4th time I’d be like, “damn Liz, this is getting out of hand- lets just get you a vibrator and a dog”.

This is the 6th wedding I have attended in the past year. No one else I know is getting married any time soon, which I think is a good thing. Perhaps by the next one we get invited to I will be over my cynical, bitter, divorced woman rant. But probably not.

Hey Hon!

This weekend we went to Honfest with our friends Stacey and Oscar to witness the mocking celebration of Baltimore and its inhabitants. Like the movie Hairspray- only taken up a notch. This 6' transvestite was one of my favorite Hons:

There were all sorts of interesting things to see. Why someone would feel the need to dress their tree in a bikini I don't know- but its harmless fun I guess:

My favorite picture of the day by far, was the following creative graffiti:

It originally said "100% deserve a boost", but someone with a spray paint can and a sense of humor changed it into the magnificent billboard you now see. Ahhhhhhh Baltimore! :)

Make YOUR tree taller!

This is the funniest thing I have seen all week:

I especially love when they discuss "your unique topographical features", i.e. BALLS! And the pictures they provide to demonstrate are fantastic! Who has personal topography that looks like that? But I guess they really couldn't show animation of a guy shaving his taint, so I'll give them a break. Yay Gillette!

Even if you are handicapped, you should still TRY...

When I was in college I befriended a girl who had no use of her legs and used a wheelchair to get around. She also had modifications made to her vehicle that allowed her to drive it. I have to admit I was nervous the first time we rode together, as her car had no pedals and was operated solely by hand controls. That day I learned that I needed to get over some of my preconceived notions about people's disabilities. She was an exemplary driver. Unlike the person in the following photograph:


Now, I'm not trying to be the least sensitive person on earth, but I really think that if you are handicapped you need to make an effort to operate your vehicle in a way that doesn't scream "I DRIVE LIKE I'M HANDICAPPED!". Don't give the disabled a bad name!

And yes, I know I am probably going to hell for this post.

Can you pee safely?

I was walking back from Quizno's the other day with Ambo and we encountered the following sign pasted to a mail box:

Apparently I live a sheltered life, as I had no idea this was a problem. I don't generally notice the other restroom patrons, but apparently some people do and take issue with their presence. According the the National Center for Transgender Equality, less than 1% of the adult population is transgender. But for those select few this becomes quite an issue. Do you go in the bathroom of the gender you were born with, or the one you have transitioned to?

The going philosophy (at least according to several web sites I checked out) is to minimize confrontation by using the restroom of the gender you most closely appear to be, and by adhering to the "principle of least astonishment". I can get behind that. I would like to avoid astonishment in the restroom. Although I am sure that the Bear and I have astonished a few men in the past when we were forced by necessity to use "their" rest room. I have no qualms about going in the men's room because I will be damned if I am going to pee my pants if I can help it.

Which is why it makes sense to have more "family" and gender neutral restrooms available like they do in places such as the airport. For use by trannies and for all those daddies who don't know which restroom to take their little girls to. While investigating this issue, I also stumbled upon an interesting interactive web site:

http://www.safe2pee.org/beta/

I guess this website is for that <1% of the population to find a "safe" restroom. There are exactly four places to pee in Baltimore. Check out your area. See if you can pee safely!

Jos. A. Bank can suck a wang

Apparently I have been feeding Timmy well as his best suit is getting to be a bit snug. And as it is unrealistic to expect to have a 28" waist forever, he paid a visit to Jos. A. Bank to cash in on their 2 suit and sport coat sale. After 35 minutes of being ignored and passed over by the sales people he left empty handed and came home frustrated.

What can we chalk this up to other than ageism? Because obviously a 50 year old has more to spend than a 26 year old, and thus deserves more attention from the sales staff. Or maybe not. Never mind that he needs those suits to go to his management position at a highly respected consulting firm for government contracts.

The thing that struck me about this was not the blatant discrimination, although that is certainly annoying. The thing that I found interesting was that unbeknown to me, I have passed out of that icky period where the outside world views you as no longer a child, but not yet a full fledged adult. When I enter a store, I now get an attentive "Can I help you ma'am?" Ok- don't love the "ma'am" part, but I get waited on without any trouble. It may be that now I look the part, with a 5 year old in tow and having passed 30, but I can't pin point when it actually happened. I'm just glad it has.

If the sales staff had not had preconceived notions about who was worthy of being helped, then tonight, Timmy would have a closet of new suits and a sales guy would have earned a nice commission. But that didn't happen. And that is why Jos. A. Bank (and all other companies that allow their staff to be discriminatory) can suck the big wang. Yes, I know- very mature for a 32 year old.

Long, strong, and down to get the friction on!

Timmy went and played ultimate frisbee last night at the park, and when he returned he related two amusing stories to me. The first was how he managed to clock his best friend's wife in the mouth. Accidentally, he says. Resulting in a fat lip for her and a cut knuckle for him. The second story was a delightful account of the antics of a dachshund that was also frolicking at the park. This of course, led to reminiscing of my late wonder-weenie Mitchell and how Timmy is now sold on acquiring a dachshund at some point in the future. Serendipitously, this evening, while reading the Huffington Post online, I happened across the following video:

I thoroughly enjoyed the article and video, although to be honest, it gives me great concern about the state and future of journalism. Economy and wars be damned- lets watch weenies! And so, to oh-so-appropriately quote Frank N. Furter from The Rocky Horror Picure Show: "One from the vaults!":

And just one more that also tickles me:

What is it about dachshunds that make them so inherently entertaining? Word play on the last two aside, would they have been nearly as funny if they had involved a labradoodle? I think not.