the wrong side of the bed

yesterday (!) afternoon some friends and i went with careyoke to help her find a wedding dress. if you know me, you know that this isn't my scene, but for careyoke i would do anything asked of me. and so i went. it was actually quite fun. lisa lisa and abigail van buren would tease me when i would coo over careyoke's dress. don't tell anyone, but it was sort of fun to watch her trying different things on. it was like having my own, life-size, wedding cake barbie. a moment that i never thought would happen in my life was when i said, "i like the one with the corset top and the veil." a corset top and a veil! ick! when i commented that those were words i thought i would never say, van buren suggested that i probably also wanted careyoke to bind her feet. perhaps she needs a chastity belt, too?

as awkward as i felt making these anti-feminist declarations, i don't think that was the hardest blow my self concept took. the store itself was quite humiliating in effect. every wall was mirrored and ever where you looked were big flouncy dresses and pretty women trying them on. i have never felt more like the 13 year-old boy my friends seem to think that i am. i looked so out of place in my checkerboard vans, baggy pants, orange thermal top, and navy hoodie. finish the image off with crooked plastic glasses and a mop of unstyled hair and you have it. the world's most un-girlie girl. i couldn't escape my own awkwardness. avoiding mirrors and staring at the floor didn't help either. the carpet was littered with glitter and beads. i am most always unadorned. plain and silly and without baubles and trappings of femininity.

tomorrow i will overcompensate. just watch me.

i think i will paint my nails now.

Dorotha, I think you are the cutest girl (after my own girl) I know. And you might not think of yourself as a girlie girl, but I think of you every time I see sparkly barrettes.

--> jamie

When I was getting married, I had images of fresh flowers and some gauzey number that would come straight out of the Greek islands or something. My friend took me to a bridal store in Chicago. I was in for a SHOCK. Mainly I picked the cheapes dress there. It was okay, but only barely barely. The ultimate humiliation came when I pointed out that it felt a wee bit big and the sales person said -- "honey, it is our experience that brides gain a few pounds before the wedding. You know -- nerves!" P.S. This did not happen to me (not the nerves nor the weight gain) and as a result I swam my way down the university chapel aisle on the day of the wedding.