Vows

I still owe a post on my wedding, but in the meantime I am having second thoughts and think I should have chosen these vows:
Pastor: Will you love her when you’re fit,
And also when you’re feeling sick?

Groom: Yes, I’ll love her when we’re fit,
And when we’re hurt, and when we’re sick,
And I will love her when we’re rich
And I will love her in a ditch
And I will love through good and bad,
And I will love when glad or sad,
And I will have, and I will hold
Ten years from now a thousandfold,
Yes, I will love for my whole life
This lovely woman as my wife!

Elvis baby

Is it too late to Elope?

So if I have not repeated what every bride says 1 week before the wedding. Why the hell didn't I elope? I am not saying I have not loved the planning, and I am sure I will love the food, the open bar for 5 hours, and of course the coffee hazelnut cake. But I am just sick and tired of begging people so that we can either a) do something nice for them or b) ask that God forbid they put their selfish needs aside and do something nice for us like "stop complaining"!!! I have had to deal with 2 very difficult bridesmaids (one more than the other - did I forget to mention she made herself a BM??). If they are not too busy, they are too sick, too broke, too claustrophobic, too low class and too lazy to give a crap about their friend getting married. Then I have people that think things are too far, too long, too traditional, too non traditional. Since when did everyone lose focus? It is a damn wedding which means 2 people sharing vows and then a big fat party. All you have to do is show up. Well that is unless you are one of my BM then you have to complain or if your one of the nice BM's on the other side dealing with the complainers. (sorry bitsandgiggles). So I extend my apologies to everyone who has had to deal with headaches due to difficult guests, and I express my gratitude to all those who have had to deal with what I have had to deal with. And all I ask is that day everyone just leave their dramas at the door and if the church is too small for you and you feel short of breath-GET OUT!

Liver who needs one?

So this weekend was full of goodies. It started off with leaving work early and having 4 martinis with some co-workers and then momofuko for the best morel butter known to mankind. I would not suggest anyone go check this place out unless you like pork, pork and more pork. The oysters with kimchee were good but not $16.00 good. We spent a lot and ate way too little. Hence we move on..Friday I spent drinking 2 bottles (sharing with the Midwestern) of cotes du Rhone and a Bordeaux - one better than the other. Amazing what $2.00 will make a difference. This was sitting on a rooftop of a brownstone overlooking riverside park. While I contemplated why I did not get my MBA instead of law degree. Maybe then I would not be so sad as I walked past the kitchen bigger than my whole apt in Hoboken. And so we move on to Saturday which was filled with cheesy boat performers and a $105 meal (the garlic mash were worth it I suppose) but it was spent celebrating 30 again! With my childhood buddy. Then comes Sunday...oh Sunday if my liver had not seen the worst then he was about to. It started with unlimited mimosas and other champagne cocktails at Paradou. Oh how I love the French. Then off to Pastis to sit next to meatheads with no necks. And bitsandgiggles and I have decided that the lack of neck is equivalent to the size of brain cells. So then we offer to pay the cute gay couple to sit next to us so we would not have a guy with plaid shorts and polo shirt with his collar standing up staring at us like we were lunch meat. Then on to the next place to pee of course. Jane's Tavern looked decent enough as English pubs go, but since we did not want to crash on boys night, we got suckered to sitting out front of Little Owl with a pregnant lady and then opted to not wait the hour and go spent our loan money for a Austrian dinner at Wallse. Ahh! So after my wallet and liver took a break I stumbled home back to my apt only to wish I had more Sundays like this.

Kids

So if anyone knows me even a little they will know that children are not on the top of my list of favorite things. Not that I am mean or cruel, I just lack motherly chracteristics. I mean my dog goes hungry and without water at times, because I am downing shots of vodka on a Friday night and forgot to put the food bowl down. These are not things I am proud of, but I have to be honest with myself. So when the idea of a wedding came up, I said NO KIDS. Of course I sucked it up for the Midwestern's cousin's baby and made her the flower girl - but I draw the line outside of blood relatives. So when I received an RSVP 2 weeks from the wedding that the Midwestern's old college buddy is bringing his 2 offspring I almost screamed. The discussion led to the "No, we can not revoke his invite" I guess this is not like a license or something? So I spent most of Sunday trying to figure out where to seat these 2 little people. I could not have them at the original table with bitsandgiggles and my 3 co-workers trust me I would hate to see my boss with cake on her face. So I moved the whole family to another table that I basically made up just for them. I know this is not a big deal and if this is the worst that can happen I will suck it up. But I swear if I hear a peep out of either of these mongrels I will go down that aisle and smother them with my veil.

Wedding in the Sticks

So this weekend was the 2nd wedding (surprise surprise) that we were attending this month. This time, I was the one in the bridal party. So I spent all of Saturday and Sunday with the bride doing bridesmaidish things. Since this is my first time being a bridesmaid I will give credit to all of those who have done it before - Hail to you oh great ones! It is hard ass work. I ran around going to brunches, and lunches, and dinners and nails, and hair and feet, etc.. Not to mention the emergencies such as lipstick on gown (Tide to go!) or bustles that do not bustle. You get the point, but I will say the best part is that my friend was the sweetest bride. There was always a please and thank you after every request, so note to self (and all others). Be nice! Even if you are hot and sticky under a 30 lb dress just suck it up because these girls have sucked it up with you. With that said, there was a lot of dancing, a beautiful interfaith ceremony, and an annoying photographer that I almost beat down Queens style. I also got to sing Hava Nagila which made the midwestern question whether I was from S.A. or Israel. We had a great time - Cornell alumni you rock and the music and location was great (anything near a body of water pretty much rules)! The only mishaps on the trip was we almost ran out of gas in the middle of the sticks at 1 a.m. and we almost had our bodies chopped up into a million pieces by the Wolf Creek killer. (Another note to self) Put gas in the car before you get on the road to nowhere. Corn fields do not show up on GPS, and if anyone needed to find us not even Jack Bauer could. Hopefully the only mishap in the next wedding will be me and bitsandgiggles doing shots out of our pink flask before the ceremony.

Conclusion to Chi Town Wedding

I walk up to the open bar and ask the bartender for a stiff one and he responds "can I see ID?" I giggle and say "Okay seriously I will have a double grey goose vodka martini shaken not stirred and make it fast." He looks at me with this blank stare and repeats it again..."Can I see your ID?" By this time, I was ready to start dipping a straw into the vodka bottle. So I explain to him in my ever so sarcastic voice that no one with half a brain brings an ID to a wedding. I am not at a bar or a club, I am at a wedding. A wedding where I just dropped $300 into the money box and squeezed my mashed potato butt into a tight black dress, and a wedding where my Midwestern cooked in the sun without a bathroom break for 4 hours, and a wedding where I had 30 children running around my feet screaming and making noise. At this point I need a drink so badly, the bartender should just start breaking out the funnel. I storm off, tell the groom the problem but the bartender still refuses. Luckily one of the groomsmen bought me a drink, but the rest of the evening I had to ask someone to get me drinks. So I figure dinner is about to be served it can only get better - right? Wrong! I sit down to a Pork and Veal dinner. Who in the world makes a wedding with only 2 choices, baby cow and pig? I meal at least throw some fish or veggie options. Well I was not too concerned because the bride assured me that she ordered my meal in advance. I tell the waiter I am part of the vegetarian crowd and he nods and walks away. I am so excited that my mouth is watering. He returns with a plate of arugula, 2 pieces of asparagus and a mushroom on top for decor. At this point, I am convinced this is the salad. Oh silly me!!! it was the damn entree. Now I am trying to figure out if I can some how grab my tweezers to grab the envelope back out of the money box and take back my gift to the lovely couple so I can buy myself a slice of pizza down the block. The Midwestern trying to make lemonade out of lemons asks the waiter for a plate of polenta. He brings over a side of polenta and I ate it with half a loaf of bread because I was so hungry I could have started eating my purse if it were not synthetic. I wish I could tell you I was too drunk to care or that the music was so good I was too busy dancing and that all of these mistakes meant nothing in the scheme of things. But as I listened to the temptations and other horrible old music from my parents generation. I sat around making more mental notes..."My humps", "Soldier Boy", "Gold digger". So no, I will not have centerpieces the size of a small child, and the midwestern will not wear a $800 tux and my groomsmen will not all wear stupid patent leather rental shoes(oh wait what groomsmen??)and $150 Armani ties, nor will I have ice sculptures of the Louvre in Paris. Instead, the Midwestern will wear his hot new Cole Haan's with his Jones New York Tux and Gold Italian silk tie we bought on Wall Street. And the only flowers will be petals on the table and our music may be filled with inappropriate mix of rock, alternative, pop, hip hop, salsa and reggae. But who cares

Wedding Part III

So it is wedding day and this is where the fun begins. When you make six figures, a wedding is so much fun to plan, because everything goes. For example, you get 2 suites at the Four Seasons because you need one for getting dressed and one for sleeping. You also rent a trolley to take your 16 person bridal party around Chicago in 95 degree heat with 88 degree humidity for 4 hours to take pictures. Why? because you can. But somehow all the money in the world can not make the trolley's air condition work so you have 8 sweaty men in tuxedos ready to pass out and faint. So you bring beer lots of it, and chips and sandwiches, but all that does not matter when there are no bathroom breaks. Why? Because the psycho photographer and Bridezilla can not go off their time schedule. So the midwestern almost got left behind while he ran in to use the can at the museum. The only good thing is the boys got to sit in the dug out at Wrigley Field which made getting heat stroke all worth it. I on the other hand was strolling around magnificent mile shopping, enjoying the Victoria Secret Sale. I got a call from a few of the girlfriends of the bridal party who then met me for brunch at this cool spot off the avenue. Once I got back to the hotel to get dressed the midwestern walked in as red as an apple and with a rose wilted from the heat on his lapel. I told him to take a cold shower before the ceremony, but he said bridezilla would not let them - something about more pictures. Jesus I mean I love my bridesmaids but I do not need 5 hours of pictures of them. So I forced him to shower and off he went to the ceremony. I finished getting dressed and met them all at the restaurant and threw an extra pair of shoes for the midwestern in a bag. Because the patent leather tux shoes rentals were pinching his feet. Apparently the groomsmen were not allowed to take those off either. I just about had it with all the do's and dont's of this OCD wedding. I figured if anyone said anything, I would just beat them with the heel! The ceremony felt ten hours long, and the homily lasted longer than an inagural address. I di sort of laugh though because even the minister made fun of the bride and her type A to the fifth power personality. Then there was a rose ceremony, a unity candle ceremony, lighting candle for the families ceremony. I thought if they drag this on anymore I will stand up and scream "fire". Instead 5 screaming flower girls ran around the altar while the priest spoke and the bride and groom said their vows. While I made mental note to call my doctor to tie my tubes as soon as I got back to NY. After the wedding march (I hate the wedding march), it was off to cocktail hour. The apps were good but little did I know my night had just started.

Weddings Part Deux

So this Friday I was off to Chi town to celebrate the Midwesterner's best man's wedding. He was getting married in Chicago with his wonderful fiance and this was supposed to be the wedding of the lifetime. We took a 5 am taxi to the airport and arrived in Chicago way too early. But that's okay by the time we rode the L to the hotel, they let us check in early. Yeah! for wedding party perks! So after checking in, we decided to splurge on some deep dish pizza. Being from the East coast the closest I have come to that was Uno's, and was not too impressed. That was until I tried my cheese and spinach deep dish at Gino's East and fell in love with the midwest. After consuming way too many calories we were off back to the hotel to meet the rest of the wedding party. The Midwestern took off while I went to the spa and learned a hard lesson. There is no such thing as hard wax in Chicago or the state of Illinois for that matter. I forgot to visit Flor before I left and I called ever damn salon in that windy city and no one knew what I was talking about. Finally I ended up at Elizabeth Arden Red Door and met the nicest Ukrainian lady named Svetlana who took care of me. I liked her so much and she was so sweet, we discussed shopping and eating, while she had my legs spread eagle. So $1000 dollars later, I paid her for the most expensive wax job of my life and went back to getting ready for the rehearsal. The rehearsal was at Gibson's where I ate a pound of raw tuna with cheese mashed potatoes and Key Lime Pie all while wearing my lime green shoes and patent leather clutch - Yes I matched the desert. How the hell was I supposed to fit into any dress tomorrow eating and drinking like this? I was put in charge of watching the $150 Armani ties of all the groomsmen and was probably carrying around a grand worth of cranberry silk ties. The night ended at some bar and I took off because I luckily left my ID at the hotel and was not allowed into the dive shamrock bar after midnight. The idea of walking on sticky beer floor while wearing my hot green stilettos made me nervous. So I went back to our very expensive not worth $200 night hotel. At 4 am, I woke up to the sound of the Midwestern as he walked in and told me he basically talked the groom off the ledge. I was not sure if the groom was freaking out because he thought I ran off with the ties or if he was just freaking out because his bride-to-be spent a small down payment on flowers. Either way I was tired and did not care so I rolled over thinking of the wedding tomorrow and whether I can fit my butt into a satin dress or if I had to run out and buy spanx.

Weddings, Weddings and More Weddings

Well, a lot has happened since my last post. I had a wonderful bridal shower that resulted in a ride around central park in a gondula with a man wearing a funny outfit. Champagne toast on the rooftop of the Ritz waiting for the sunset and oh I forgot to mention the crab benedict and goat cheese salad. So thanks to my wonderful friends some who traveled very far (well I am not sure which is farther Queens, Chicago or Sayerville :)I had wonderful memories, gifts and just a grand day. Since my last post I have also had the pleasure of escaping wedding stuff to share in something of greater importance bitsandgiggles graduation and celebration of passing both bars (damn over achiever) And had a wonderful meal at Del Posto with wine oh so much wine! And also during the last month I found a wonderful organist, bought both wedding bands and spent way too much and started summer school. But let us not forget the weekend wedding in Chicago. Oh the stories...to be continued in Part Deux

TC

So I am sitting here on a Monday afternoon after finishing my adoption law 48 hr exam early and enjoying my freshly painted toes. When I turn on the TV and see Tom Cruise. Not really a big deal, but then I realize that Oprah is interviewing him to celebrate 25 yrs of acting. So as I open up my products liability book, I hear "You've lost that loving feeling" in the background. Then I realize that if there is a movie I can see more than once - Top Gun is absolutely one of them. Maybe that is why when I was at Cravath even the boys were naming their tape guns Maverick. Because the truth is I think everyone loves that movie. And then we have The Firm. Ahh, who can forget that scene where the music is blaring and he whispers in his wife's ear, and she runs out screaming and crying. Or what about the scene where he dances around in his underwear and socks in Risky Business singing "Old time rock and roll". Then of course I am not sure when I cried more either in "A few Good Men" (I think this was when I decided to interview for JAG) or "Born on the 4th of July". There is really no point to this blog entry except that I just realized how much I really like Tom Cruise as an actor and even though he is into Scientology I forgive him because "he had me at hello."

Oye Como Va

The other night I booked a hotel for the 5 days/4 night stay at the island of San Andres in Colombia. Okay so what is the big deal you say? Well then maybe no one will think it is weird that this is the 3rd hotel I have booked for the same days in the same location. I refuse to cancel any of my hotel reservations and why may you ask? Because Colombia for some reason does not own credit card machines and believes in good old fashion "I give you my word". I have contacted numerous hotels who have told me okay miss we will see you on August 13th? I then proceed to ask if I need to give a deposit. The guy on the other line says "No, just call us a week in advance to remind us." What! Are they kidding. So it is no wonder I now have 3 hotels just in case, because the last thing I want is to be in a 3rd world country run by drug cartels with no place to sleep with a blue eyed gringo on my hands. Trust me, I will not be calling myself Mrs. Midwestern at any point before we return to the good ole U.S. of A. And in case any one happens to be passing through Colombia I have a reservation for each one of you.

Freak show

So yesterday class was cancelled, and I decided to go to the gym. After 30 minutes on the elliptical machine I figured if I was paying a million dollars and eleven cents a month for this gym membership than I might as well take a class. So there was a Yoga class on the schedule and I said to myself "Eh, can't be that bad." That was until I had my ankles behind my ear and was standing on one leg. Are they kidding? Nobody should be able to twist their body in ways that this man made us last night. I felt like a member of cirque de soleil. So after an hour and a half of downward dog and warrior pose I was done. I was so sore and my limbs were like jelly and all I kept thinking is I can not wait to take it again. I am either a sucker for punishment or I am hoping I can use some of these moves in the bedroom.

Close Calls

So something happened to me that made me realize life is scary sometimes. I was cleaning the house yesterday and I grabbed my products liability textbook to put burn in the fireplace (just kidding) actually to just move it to the bedroom. When as I was walking in my white athletic socks slipped on the Mexican rug and flew across the living room. The scariest thing was I could have broke my chin open because I fell face forward onto the wood floor. The good thing is the textbook saved me. If it didn't I was definitely going to use to help me sue the company that made the Mexican rug for defective design trust me. I got up bruised up on both knees and a little shaken up. Thoughts of me falling on the coffee table and cracking my head open flashed in my mind. I mean what would spike do? Would he try to alert the neighbors or just eat me while I lie on the floor. Nevertheless, I called the midwestern and he asked "Do you need to go to the hospital?" No, I just needed a hug but I did not know how to explain that - Guys just don't get it. So I just went back to watching the High School Reunion Marathon. And I took off those damn athletic socks too.

Rock of Love

So if anyone knows me well enough they are aware of my guilty pleasure of realty TV. I figure after spending years studying hours of endless boring case law and regulations I deserve it. I need to not use my brain cells and watch crazy people make complete fools of themselves on tv. The midwestern also tells me that somehow I get joy out of watching people with really f&*cked lives. Maybe it is because then my petty life issues will not seem so bad anymore. So when the midwestern came home late last night from pulling overtime at work, he was surprised to see I was still awake. That was until he realized why. Not because I am the sweet fiancee that waits up for her man, but I was waiting for another man. Bret Michaels. I sat and watched the season finale of Rock of Love, and tried to guess what in the world he saw in Daisy. The girl seemed like she was high on something at all times.Not to mention her eyebrows were non existent. But then I saw what I am sure Bret fell in love with her fake boobs and over collagened mouth. Love is not skin deep. But at 1:30 am in the morning I was shocked when he chose the less attractive girl but much smarter one, see and they say nice girls finish last. But my favorite part of the night was when they started playing Poison songs in the background and all of sudden I hear....."I wasn't looking for rock of like or rock of lust. I was looking for a Rock of Love." Yes, Bret me too! The end result is the midwestern and I have decided to make these our wedding vows. Now the question is would it be weird to say it while playing "Living on a Prayer" in church. Does that break the 80's hair band rule? Not sure, but if anyone knows please let me know.

I laughed when I first learned of the McDonald's case where the woman sued McDonald's for her burns when she spilled coffee on herself. Firstly, the facts of the case were outrageous because she was driving and she put the cup of coffee in her lap. I definitely can think of easier ways to not have kids. But this morning, I finally understood why she sued. I went upstairs to my coffee room to get my instant Flavia coffee. If anyone does not know what that is, it is the machine where it takes these packets and sucks them up, eats them, and spits out coffee. It is pretty amazing and provides endless entertainment for the corporate world. So after I get my coffee I decide it is too full and I need to spill some out. Except I obviously mistook myself for a sink. Before I could scream "Attorney", the scalding coffee burned my delicate olive skin and I am positive created 3rd degree burns. If it didn't, well then it sure felt like it burnt through at least two layers of epidermis. And after running cold water on my hand which actually I think is the worst thing you can do. The first thing that came to mind was "Damn I hate that Flavia company". Even though it was obviously my fault, I still felt this psychotic anger toward this company. Which makes no logical sense, but logic at this point disappeared like the hair folicles that were seared off my skin. This coffee company probably has a headquarter office in Topeka, Kansas and has no idea that there is this clumsy law clerk in NYC that just bathed in what felt like volcanic acid. So as I sit here writing this blog entry I am also gathering my thoughts for a letter to Flavia and how they should lower the temperature of their coffee or put warning labels such as: "Please do not rub hot liquids on your skin because it may hurt as much as cutting your limbs off with a butter knife". So here I am using my $150K lawyer skills and writing a letter claiming defective coffee. Thank you J.D.

EJ got a big ole butt

Purses are a wonderful item. They hold our prized possessions like condoms, make up, blackberry, wallet, even shoes. I rely on my purse to dress up an outfit or to beat off nasty guys at the club. Sometimes I love my purse so much I take it with me to walk the dog because you never know if your going to run into the cute guy with the doberman. But ladies our purse does not need its own seat on the train. I know it may seem tired from all the hard work of carrying all our stuff but it really could fit nicely on our lap. As a matter of fact it prefers to be nestled on our laps where it is close to us. It appreciates this intimacy. So unless your at Daniel where Mr. Boulud is nice enough to provide seating for your significant accessory, keep your freaking bag off the train seat so my big ass can sit down.

Wedding Dance

So I hate line dancing. The chicken dance, macarena, electric slide have all been banned from the wedding. I even told the DJ to remove all disco, if I hear Abba or Donna Summers someone is going down. But back to line dancing. The idea of 50 guests lined up doing the dollar dance scares me. It brings back all terrible memories of worst weddings ever. However, in order to change it up a notch. I am thinking of maybe having my bridesmaids and I do this dance at the wedding. Why? 1) Because I love the song 2) Because I can do it better than these guys 3) To give my future MIL a heart attack. So bitsandgiggles I think MOH will agree now all we have to do is convince the Russian and we are set.

Green with Envy

So after putting myself further into debt yesterday I figured it no longer mattered any more. I grabbed the credit card and said to hell with it. Screw the ice sculpture mama's buying herself a new pair of shoes. So I start the marathon. I traveled all of the Hoboken designer boutiques buying handmade jewelry, patent leather clutches, but still no shoes. I even picked up a chunky bangle that will probably be worn once, but no shoes. You see I needed a pair of green shoes. Not green camo but a nice sexy money green. The new colors for spring/summer this season in case anyone missed the latest edition of Vogue are bright colors like yellow, blue, green, pink and even orange in some areas. I already owned a pair of hot pink and I wanted something different. So I decided on green. So in my mind I am thinking pointy toe patent leather green stilettos. At this point, I am so far into debt I have decided I am wearing this dress with all the accessories for my bridal shower, the rehearsal in Chicago, maybe even bitsandgiggles' graduation. Damn I may even sleep in the dress tonight (with the necklace, clutch, earrings and bangle too - well if I need to be rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night at least I will be dressed fashionably). So finally I find them - and they are perfect (so we didn't find pumps but with a 4 inch heel who cares). Ahh, amazing what a new pair of shoes will do to a woman's self esteem. So here I am walking home with numerous bags and fearing I will run into the Midwestern. Too late...He looks at me from the corner. I try to hide between the liquor store and the brownstone. Maybe I can run in a get a bottle of grey goose to wallow in my sorrows after I examine my receipts? Sh*T, I've been caught. He turns and stares at me with the same look of disgust that Elizabeth Sue gave Nicolas Cage in the mall scene. "Will we be able to pay the mortgage this month?" I look at him with this face of pity and remorse, and whisper in his ear. "Probably not."

Shopping Spree

When I woke up yesterday the weather was gorgeous and I finally felt like spring had arrived. So what better way to celebrate the spring but with shopping. Most people would think this is no big deal except with me it is different. You see its like putting an alcoholic in a brewery. I love to shop but my problem is I don't shop cheap. I am not sure if it is because I somehow want to believe I am rich or I feel like I should be rich, or maybe it is just because I like nice things. But "NO", see it is more than that. I like the way it feels to walk into a store and not look at the price tag, and to have the sales person cater to me like I am Ivanka Trump. If anyone has been to the shoe department in Nordstrom they know what I mean. The salespeople come over with 10 boxes of shoes of all different styles and colors and you feel like Leona Helmsley. And even though the only reason they like you is because they work off commission - who cares. Because the only reason why you are there is because you somehow have sunken to an ultimate low in your self esteem and need some reassurance as to why you are on this planet. Thus bringing me to yesterday's shopping spree. I decided to check out my neighborhood boutiques, not realizing two things 1) Hoboken residents have a sh*T load of money 2)We have someone become Soho while I was sleeping. I walk into the first shop and I should have seen the red flags when I picked up a dress that said Badgley Mischka. But I hate to be seen looking at price tags and running out. So I play cool as if I own ten of those, and keep browsing. It wasn't until the lady decided to ask me if I needed help that I froze. She looks at me and says "You are a size 2 right"? Damn your good. I didn't want to tell her I am a size 2 with a size 4 a*ss but I did not want to interrupt her as she started grabbing dresses off the rack. Next thing you know I have 4 dresses in the dressing room and she asks me what size shoe? Shoes? I came in here for a dress, well actually I came in here with an empty wallet but she doesn't need to know all that. So I walk into the dressing room and try on the first dress. I walk out in front of the floor length mirror and the woman in the room next to me was buying 2 dresses. I told the lady that I was getting married and I needed an outfit for my bridal shower. Okay first dress gorgeous black and white trapeze style dress. I loved it..Loved it so much I refused to say it for fear I might have to buy it. So I waited until I tried on another dress. The next dress was a black sexy Audrey Hepburn looking dress with pockets. Pockets! All dresses should have pockets don't you think? So I grab both and at this point feel like a drug addict in a crack house. I will take the black one, I said. I thought the Audrey Hepburn look was hot if I paired with some smokin' stilettos and a clutch. Should I go yellow, red, blue or green??? She said well this is 50% off. Whew! So off I go to the cashier. At this point, I am thinking which card is not maxed out. Is it the Citibank? No I booked the honeymoon tickets there. Is it the Bank of America? No, I think Puerto Rico is still on that one? Okay here you go. So she rings me up and I realized that that I just paid $300 for a dress that was 50% off. She must be mistaken. It did say 50% right? Well at this point, all I want to do is run as fast as I can and start seeing if the escort agency on 5th will hire me. As I am walking out the door, she says are you sure you don't want the trapeze dress I mean it is such a steal it is only $450. I nod my head and tell her I need to go pick up the Benz at the shop but will be back. And then run, Forest, run. Off to the shoe store.