Wedding Planning Venting

We’re getting close to the finish line. In just a few short months, I’ll have a ring on my finger, a joint banking account, and a new deduction to put on my taxes. Being married is going to be awesome. But first I have to whine about some stuff.

I’ve learned a lot about wedding planning over the last year and I’ve concluded that I, the groom, am only playing a small role in the wedding day itself.

I’ve assembled this handy pie graph to illustrate my point:




51% Bride
Almost everyone agrees that the wedding day is about the bride: looking hot, being a rock star, sticking it to frienemies, these are all the hallmarks of a bride’s wedding day. While I concede that the bride is the majority stakeholder, there are other factors at play.

38% Parents
Parents also have a major stake in the wedding day. For them, it’s a chance for them to recuperate gift value from all the weddings and showers they were forced to go to throughout their entire lives.

Banquet hall space is scarce and may limit the number of guests that can attend a reception. While there are many friends I would like to include on the guest list, they will be playing second fiddle to my parents’ wishes of inviting their co-workers, former co-workers, long lost acquaintances, random strangers they just met on the street, and other assorted people I’ve never met before and will likely never meet again. Sorry, many of my old friends from college and high school, no soup for you.

But, the parents are paying for most of the wedding so I better just zip it. Weddings ain’t cheap.

10% Creating Exciting Pinterest Photo-Ops
Remember a few months ago when I started raving about this Pinterest website? Like it was the greatest website ever made because of the great meal recipes, and the cute cat pics, and whatnot?

I was wrong. Good God, was I ever wrong.

Pinterest stinks. It has made wedding planning tremendously difficult. Everything in a wedding nowadays has to be super creative and you can’t get around it. There is no such thing as an easy decision and the long time frame for planning a wedding only gives you more time to second guess yourself. At least the website is getting blocked now at most peoples’ place of work. Smart move, Corporations.

1% Celebrating Two Kindred Spirits Becoming One and Sharing the Rest of Their Lives Together

If you’re lucky. There’s a good chance this 1% sliver might get eaten by the Pinterest factor stated above.

The silver lining to all this is that there is a precisely 0% chance that I am backing out this wedding (or marriage for that matter) because I don’t ever want to go through this again. Jess could quit her job, let herself go, eat Funyons all day and have constant Funyon breath, start collecting dirty pennies, forbid me to listen to Call on Me, become a crappy volleyball player, insist I buy her hallmark greeting cards for every minor milestone, and generally hurl insults at me all day and I would take it in stride.

Hell, she could become a Minnesota Viking fan. I’m sticking around forever.

You know, I probably shouldn’t have let Jess know this. This information does NOT give me a lot of leverage in the future. I would prefer that Jess keep her Funyon breath to a minimum. At least she doesn’t like cool ranch Doritos.

Ok, I'm done venting now. I may be venting again soon though, this weekend I'm in charge of attaching ribbon bows to 200 invitations. It took me over 5 minutes to do the sample one, which I was not able to complete satisfactorily. That puts my estimated time of completion between 1000 minutes and infinity.

Chariots of Firing

Well I think it hit 60+ degrees today, which only means one thing, the start of spring. There are still a few snow piles out there gone rogue but they should be evaporated by the middle of this week. Good riddance.

Complain all you want about the cold, the thing I hate most about winter is stepping on some invisible microscopic puddle in the middle of the house somewhere and then having to walk around with a slightly wet sock. I hate slightly wet socks more than anything. Even more than I hate Maroon 5, that’s how much I hate them. Of course I could just put on a new pair of socks but like I said, they are usually only slightly wet and it just doesn’t seem like its worth the time and energy to change my current pair. I would rather just complain about the slightly wet socks all day.

My big project this spring is to complete the Cellcom marathon in May. I promise you I will never blog about this marathon again because tales of jogging are boring so I’m just going to post a few random thoughts about it and then never talk about it again.

First, I personally don’t think jogging stories are boring anymore. I am genuinely interested in how many miles you ran, the weather conditions, what part of your body started ailing and at what point of the run did the ailment occur. As my weekend long runs have expanded, I find my body is breaking down in new and interesting ways. At first just my toes hurt, then my calves, but my run last Saturday, my shoulders and neck started aching to my surprise. And the top of my right foot. I love talking about this.

Second, I originally signed up the marathon because I got a free entry for being a Cellcom employee but I also thought it would be a good excuse to lose some weight for the wedding. The problem is that I have become ravenously hungry at pretty much all times. I’m eating an entire pizza as I write this very post. I’ve been running my ass off but have only lost a couple of pounds tops over the last couple of months, its total bullshit. Seriously, don’t train for a long distance event to lose weight, only sign up for a long distance event if you hate your knees.

Third, I really wish I could Prefontaine-up and grow out a sweet, 1970’s moustache but I can’t. I think that’s what’s holding me back right now.

Fourth, I’m scared of chaffing. It hasn’t happened yet but I know its coming. It sounds awful but hopefully it’s like having dead toe nails which I was also scared of but have now come around to embrace. I also hope my nipples don’t start bleeding like Andy from The Office. I don’t think that’s a real thing though, the nipple bleeding.

Fifth, do not watch the film Chariots of Fire to get inspired. It’s weird and boring. However, DO hum the theme song and pretend to cross your driveway in slow motion at the end of a run like you are winning a gold medal in the Olympics. Your neighbors will love this. I call this Chariots of Firing.

Sixth, the best and worst part about running a marathon is that is doesn’t require any athletic ability to run one, just pure stubbornness. You push yourself to your limit on Saturday, your muscles break down, they heal back a little stronger, you can run a bit fit further the next Saturday, repeat, repeat, repeat. You just have to slavishly follow the training schedule and prioritize your weekends around the big run, wreaking total havoc on your social calendar in the process. It’s a high price to pay but also reassuring that, barring any training injuries, you can stubbornly cross that finish line if you just stick to the plan. I hope it’s worth it.

Happy Spring and Happy Chariots of Firing everyone!

Bachelor Party: Lake Tahoe

I just got back from my bachelor party in Lake Tahoe this past weekend. It was pretty crazy, not The Hangover crazy, but wilder than any partying Uncle Jesse ever did while visiting Tahoe. Of course that is just an assumption, we’ll never know if, off camera, the Tanner boys and possibly the Beach Boys went in on an 8-ball and accidentily knocked off a prostitute or two in some kind of epic bender that went horribly awry. One can only wonder.

Gambling trips are all about creating a good omen off the bat. If you go into Nevada with a negative attitude, you’re going to leave Nevada with negative dollars in your wallet. When we got off the plane in Reno, we found out Ryan Braun was exonerated for steroid use and would no longer serve a 50 game suspension. That is a good omen and got the trip off to a hot start. Then, when signing up for a Players Card in the casino, I won a free trip to the buffet which was one of the top sign-up bonuses available. It was going to be a great trip. Buffets are awesome.

Two hours later and I’m down $200. I couldn’t win a bet to save my life. No one could. Well, except Cody who is the luckiest son of a bitch alive, not kidding. By the end of the trip, the pit bosses were just handing cash over to him in order to save the casino time and grief. The remaining four of us went to bed Thursday night discouraged.

Friday was ski day. This picture below sums up ski day.


Friday night we went down to the local Irish bar for happy hour, then decided to get food before, whoops! hey guys let’s all play in this $100 buy-in no-limit Texas Hold em poker tournament! So much for dinner.

After dominating for several hours, I ended up taking 2nd place out of 32 dudes. I would like to say I played well, but I could tell I was just getting really lucky based on all disgusted looks I was getting from knocking out players with only marginal hands and big river cards. One guy harassed me for a good hour or so during the breaks based on a call I made that took him out of the tournament. I wish I could remember the hand but like I was saying before, I just came from an Irish happy hour.

That night we partied our asses off. We went to Your My Boy Blue! Montbleu casino down the street, took turns ordering rounds of shots at the bar, then decided to head back to Vex nightclub at Harrah’s. I remember being at the club and dancing like an asshole, having a great time, then I time-travelled and just all of a sudden woke up in bed. With Finally Miley.



I have no recollection of how I got home or how I ended up in a lover’s embrace with Finally Miley. Based on reports from Joe, Ding and I ended up jumping on stage at the club where the go-go dancers were dancing. Apparently security allowed it, they probably let it slide because it was my bachelor party. They probably knew it was my bachelor party, because all that night, I was constantly screaming, this is my bachelor party!

A further report revealed that Ding disappeared for awhile, then reemerged in the hotel room like an hour later where he fixed himself a drink and then proceeded to stand creepily in the middle of the room with the lights off, totally zoned out. In the morning, we found him sleeping in the shower with the water running. Good job, Ding.

We were all moving a little slower on Saturday. It was very subdued. I mean, I still stayed up and gambled all night, but the energy was lacking. We tried repeating the steps we made on Fri night but it wasn’t quite the same. We really captured lightning in a bottle that Friday night.

I lost a bunch of money sat night but still came out ahead overall on the trip. Joe had to drag me from the poker table to our awaiting bus to take us to the airport Sunday morning. Then I bothered everyone on the way back home with my offensive smells. It was hilarious. What a great trip.

Point-Counterpoint: Doomsday Preppers

I just started watching this reality television program Doomsday Preppers on the National Geographic channel. It’s about people that are preparing for a cataclysmic event. These people then get graded by a team of survival specialists on their likelihood of surviving said event.

I’ve got a lot to say on the subject of Doomsday prepping.

In the two episodes I’ve seen, most of the fears are based on natural disasters, disease outbreaks, massive oil shortages, etc. I have to be honest, part of the reason I like the show is the suspense before each vignette, because eventually someone is going to just straight up say, zombie apocalypse. I’m preparing for the zombie apocalypse.

When that happens, I’m going to do a Tiger Woods’ fist pump, then call Joe Daniels and talk to him about it.

Point: Doomsday Preppers are on to something…

These people are nuts, but not THAT nuts. Yes, it seems mostly silly to live your life planning for the end of days as a full time endeavor, but I don’t think it hurts anyone to have a contingency plan in place.

1. The first segment was about a retired couple that created a self-sustaining compound out of shipping containers. They had a mini farm, built backup solar powered generators, ran evacuation drills, and shot a bunch of guns for target practice. Unusual, yes, but when my Grandpa retired, he sat around and watched bowling all day. At least these people found a hobby.

2. Experts don’t know shit. The show always ends a segment with the likelihood of the event happening. They’ll say something like, this blah blah blah event has 1.3% chance of occurring. Bullshit. No one knows when the next super volcano is going to erupt or the next asteroid is going to hit the earth. Some egghead is just pulling numbers out of his ass. I know, we can smell our own.

And I don’t care if the probability of an event is .0000013%, it could still happen. The odds of winning the powerball are like 1 in a billion but eventually someone always wins.


Counterpoint: Nope, Doomsday Preppers really are Looney Tunes.

1. The show gets weird when they show the outwardly-normal suburban families preparing for disaster. These people have basements and bedrooms packed with food and supplies and seem to spend most of their free time stockpiling even more rations. I bet the camera people double dip and recycle the footage for the next episode of Hoarders. Winning, said the Nat Geo TV Executive.

2. I think it is really funny when these people claim that they hope their event will never happen, they just want to be ready for it. Again, bullshit. Nothing would make these people happier than to be vindicated from all the dirty looks of their neighbors. If said event never happens, then they are delusional and possibly have OCD. If said event does happen, BINGO.

3. Methinks that some of these Doomsday Preppers are making too many pre-emptive raids on their food pantries. The majority of the people seemed to be terribly out of shape. Perhaps they should worry more about heart failure and less about the Earths north and south poles reversing.

Conclusion

The moral of this blog is to not judge these characters so harshly. Maybe keeping a couple cases of water and a few weeks of canned goods in the basement is a good idea. And it never hurts to challenge yourself with hypothetical scenarios and mental exercises for an armageddon event. What would you do, where would you hide, who would you save, what would be your reason to keep on living?

Not to get too sentimental, but with that special time in mid-February fast approaching, I don’t need to tell you what I’d be fighting for...

This Is How Hollywood Happens

Last Friday morning, I was dicking around on grantland.com, one of the many websites I like to dick around on when I don’t feel like working. The editor is Bill Simmons, one of my favorite writers for ESPN. You may recall that I once aspired to be featured on one of his mailbags, so far unsuccessfully.

But I got on there today!

Sort of. One of Bill Simmons underlings does this feature every day where he glosses over yesterdays sports news and adds a pretty consistently funny commentary to it. Every Friday he asks readers a question and then on Monday he posts the best answers. Last Friday he asked readers for their best heckling stories and I answered the call.


Here is the link to my response. My answer is at the bottom. Just win, baby.

In case you doubt the authenticity that I was the author, you will notice the paragraph was written in haste and missing key random words, a hallmark Brain Litter trait.

I have to come clean though, the story is not totally true. I spiced it up because I wanted Bill Simmons and America to think I was really cool. I’m only partially really cool.

I did go to San Francisco and I did see the Brewers get swept by the Giants. I snuck a flask of brandy into the game so my memory is slightly fuzzy. I’m positive I yelled out Global Warming is Just a Myth and something about Ronald Reagan. But nobody threw a plastic wine glass at us. People were drinking wine in plastic glasses, I remember thinking how weird that was, but nobody threw one at us.

There, I said it. What you read is the Hollywoodized version of a brewer game I went to four years ago. But I totally get Hollywood now. Most true stories are boring. They need a little zip. It’s like a turkey sandwich. You can add honey mustard to enhance the taste, but it’s still a turkey sandwich in essence, and it’s not hurting anybody. So why not?

Right now, I suspect Bill Simmons and the editorial staff are drawing up some sort of lucrative contract for me to become a freelance writer for them. So long spreadsheets, you’re outta here. I just hope I don’t get James Freyed over the plastic wine glass debacle. That would be a total nightmare.

Best Football Play Of The Year

With the playoffs looming, I started reminiscing about this years football season and how we got to where we are today. I remember the spectacle of hosting the Saints for the home opener, going to the monday night Vikings game with my bro and getting free scarves, watching Rodgers carve up the Giants D in the last two minutes to keep their undefeated streak alive, and of course, missing the fantasy football playoffs by one point on a Tuesday because of a"scoring adjustment". What a season!

Looking back at my favorite play though, it curiously wasn't a Packer play. No, my favorite play was a certain orange-clad player who performed one of the most acrobatic touchdowns I have ever seen. Here is the clip.


Craziest Touchdown Of The Year.

Yep, my favorite football play of the year was by Tigers football star, Johnny Rico in 1997.

If you were thinking of this bullshit play, you would be mistaken.

Biggest Bullshit Touchdown Ever.

Jerome Simpson ain't got nothin' on Rico. Rico clears Zander by at least 2 feet whereas Jerome grazes his defender during his touchdown flip like a chump. Plus, for all his moxy, Simpson was a fantasy bust so I guess this blog post is my way of venting my frustration. The ball's in your court, Simpson.

Thanks, Pinterest!

Attention dudes: Do you have a significant other? Do you like it when she cooks for you? She doesn’t? Sick of me asking rhetorical questions in this blog?

OK, duly noted. But back to the cooking thing. No worries. Here’s a great link to forward to your old lady.

Pinterest is the greatest thing that ever happened to me in the last three months. Three months ago, if I would have said, Hey babes, how about you cook me dinner tonight, I would have been laughed out of the kitchen. Jess would say something along the lines of, You wish, go take a hike, you big bologna!

But then, on her own accord, she discovered this website and now I’m eating stuff like Salsa Chicken Casserole with Southwestern-style rice for dinner.

I think the genius of Pinterest is that the website combines tasty, colorful food recipes alongside pictures of the two things women love most: kittens in boxes with funny captions and cute boots. The combination creates a warm fuzzy feeling in the center of their brains which creates a halo effect for the food recipes which translates into awesome meals for me.

The ramifications of this Pinterest Discovery are staggering. I have a hypothesis that I plan on testing tonight.

This week, I’m going to suggest to Jess that she takes out the garbage. When she says no, I’m going to ask again, this time holding up a picture of two little cute kids dressed up in light blue/orange tuxedos like Lloyd and Harry from Dumb and Dumber in a wagon that looks like the Mutt Cutts van. I’ll let you know the results.

Sometimes I wish there was a Pinterest website for men but then I remembered we have about 50,000,000 of them. Except our Pinterest websites come with annoying pop ups and we aren't allowed to look at them at work. Also, we can't login and "pin" our favorite items on a community bulletin board. Thank God. Gross.