Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Yester Me, Yester You

I've been mentally preparing myself for Phil's upcoming nuptials, because I am about 99% sure that come 3am I'll be sloppy, drunken, crying mess. I do not win at weddings.

Most likely I'll misquote my favorite authors while trying to explain my emotional plight to someone who will feel obligated to listen because they care about me just enough to put up with snivelly, yelling, abusive Rassles since I gave them advice that one time when they needed it. But they won't get it, they'll put words into my mouth and I'll snap at their lack of understanding because let's face it - I am a misunderstood individual, destined to wander the path of sage hermitage and loneliness and woe. I'll probably shoulder buckets of woe all over the fucking place, and when I spill it all I can just refill from the fuckloads of woeterfalls leaking out of craggy Woe Mountain that totally creates its' own woether, which, of course, is emo for "weather."

Woether, by the way, is 96 degrees and windless, relentless humidity and fat red bug bites. Seriously, for awhile there going outside was like wading through steaming salsa with shinfuls of papercuts. Me and CrazyLiz cranked up the dusty A/C unit, turned off all the lights, closed the blinds and watched three seasons of Buffy until the wind came back home.

I am so glad I don't live in fucking Florida.

Yesterday the wind returned, so I can breathe again. Phil and Rachel (fiancee) came over for porch drinking, and I warned them about dreading the wedding, and Phil laughed and punched my knee and called me a sally.

"Wait, I don't get it," Rachel asked, all concerned.

"Rossi gets drunk and feels sorry for herself at weddings," Phil laughed.

"You do?"

"Hey, I'm allowed wallowing."

"Why don't you just make your date take care of it?"

"Not bringing one. So I guess it's up to CrazyLiz to comfort me," I grinned evilly and smiled at her.

"Oh, fucking great," she sighed, and rolled her eyes.

"Aren't you bringing Adam or something?"

"Nah," I shook my head. "It's too complicated. I'd have to take him to the bachelor party, the rehearsal dinner, the wedding, Sunday Funday, camping - this is a big event, man. Any guy I brought would have to be dedicated to me for five days. Even Adam wouldn't do that."

"He wouldn't?"

"He's too clean," I shrugged. "His OCD would kick in, he'd need to wash his hands all the time--"

"He'd get his suit dirty," Phil laughed and chugged his High Life.

"Exactly. Plus, you told me, and I quote, 'if you're not bringing some dude you plan on sleeping with, I'd rather have you just bring Gyna.'"

"Wait - I said that?"

Rachel defended me. "I definitely remember you saying that."

"Wow, I am awesome. But now I feel bad, 'cause I like Adam. You know I just want you to get laid."

"Awww, thanks."

"And if you're not getting laid, then I might as well surround myself with hot chicks with big tits."

Rachel closed her eyes and scoffed. "Do I know Adam?"

"I don't think so."

"How do you know Adam?"

"He's a friend. We're like each other's unofficial dates to everything."

"And that's it?"

"You know me. Plus, he can talk to anyone and he looks good in a suit."

"He's like Moby with emo glasses," CrazyLiz explains. "But like--"

"Like with a little bit of that guy from Crank," Phil adds. "And he always wears a long black leather coat, with a suit and like, combat boots."

I laugh. "He looks like he belongs in the Matrix. Like if Moby and Jason Statham merged in the Matrix. And were very clean and awkwardly quick-witted."

"Dude, EXACTLY."

"That is perfect."

"So," Rachel smirks, "why isn't he coming to the wedding?"

"Could you imagine Matrix Moby Statham camping? No. I don't really need a date anyway."

"Except to deal with the fucking crying," CrazyLiz laughed. She was being facetious. She cries way more than me. Because of the Crazy.

"Hey, I got an idea," Phil lit up, excited.

"What's up?"

"How about you just don't fucking cry at my wedding, you pussy."



Chamuca said...

Just found out yesterday that the guy whom I lost my v-card to, got married 2 months ago. That makes him the 2nd ex to get married to the person they dated right after me.

I'm going to wedding in a month, and Lobster is my date. I won't be crying, because I will be watching all the drama. The best man introduced the bride and groom to each other. He was (and probably still is) in love with the bride, and his best friend stole her from him.

nursemyra said...

I wouldn't take Matrix Moby Statham camping either. I'd take him to a fancy hotel for a dirty weekend

daisyfae said...

can you simply substitute "maniacal laughter" every time you feel a cry coming on? or just nail the matrix guy and get it over with...

Rassles said...

Yeah, definitely not. Ever. I love Adam, he's wonderful, friendly-brother-wise. Besides, dude's got yellow fever wicked bad.

formerly fun said...

5 days? That sounds like either the most fun wedding ever or the longest.

And go ahead, be a sally. It proves you're not a robot.

Here In Franklin said...

Please explain this Chicago-ism whereby camping and wedding are somehow merged.

Rassles said...

So it's bachelor party on Thursday, with possible camping. Rehearsal dinner friday then hotel, wedding saturday then hotel, boats and barbecue on Sunday, Sunday night camping, go home on Monday.

Everything is up in Wisconsin.

Kono said...

Camping at a bachelor party? i thought those were for blow, strippers/hookers, excessive drinking, more blow... well maybe it's just me, my BP was in Atlantic City and that's all i got to say about that and the day after the nuptials i wandered in to my apt so hungover i wanted to rip out my liver and flush it down the toilet, that was until i realized all my family and shit were walking in the door and then i had to start hiding bongs and weed and whatnot, fuck weddings, they are woeful and you Rassles are Woenderful.

renalfailure said...

Why wasn't I invited to this wedding? Oh, right. Camping. Outdoors. Well, I still should have been invited. I could have shown up as Tag Larkin.

Logical Libby said...

At least there will be booze. At least there better be booze.

American in Sydney said...

I'm so fucking glad I don't live in Florida too-- your description was spot on.

I'm with Kono on what a bachelor party is all about- fer sure.

Sid said...

I never cry at weddings. Well that's not true. I cried once. When I was 12. Now ... I just think that it's an awesome party. Nothing more.

Also ... why aren't you dating Adam?

Zen Mama said...

The wedding is in Wisconsin? Of course, it includes camping, drunk camping, which will take away the pain when you are systematically eaten alive by the fucking mosquitoes up here. Be prepared. They are some sort of mutant strain - impervious to Deet. You can say you're crying because you've been mutilated.

Now I'm certain this wedding is sounding better than ever.

MoLinder said...

i'm a little offended you didn't ask me to be your date. what's up with that? we could have a drunken conversation with tears and yelling, just like olden times.
dude, not lying. my verification word is "wiscon". see? it's a fucking sign

Blues said...

Jesus these people sure draw out their weddings, don't they?

Your matrix date sounds nice. There is nothing better than awkward quick wittedness. Really, I can't think of one thing.

Rassles said...

Chamuca: I am lucky enough to say that I have never dated someone who was married. There's a bit of an explanation to that which I'm not going to give.

Nurse: Something inside me jolted at the thought of poor Adam getting dirty.

Daisy: I tried that maniacal laughter thing once, and all that happened was I would start crying while laughing maniacally. This is an unavoidable thing, Ms. Fae. I will cry. I have to mentally prepare myself for it.

Rass: I hope Adam reads this, because then he's going to want to talk to you about it and defend himself.

FF: There is no doubt in my mind that I will have a fantastic time, except for about an hour and a half around 3am Sunday morning.

Franklin: Personally, I would be far happier if more people incorporated camping into their weddings somehow. I think it would quell the crying.

Kono: Not so much the blow crowd, up in here. There will, I'm sure, be a great deal of pot. And now we're officially not camping for the bachelor party anymore, it's going to be a party in Madison. So I'm all like, whatevs.

RF: I say show up anyway, and everyone'll be all, "Dude, why'd you bring that weird, militant guy who talks in third person?" And Phil will have to explain that being ordained in the Church of Tag Larkin does not mean you are qualified to perform wedding ceremonies, no matter how many love letters you write to Wisconsin.

Libby: Boy howdy, will there ever be booze. I'm going to be drunk for five days.

Flora: This is a co-ed bachelor party too, and I am AWESOME at bachelorette parties, so I can only assume I will be that much AWESOMER at bachelor parties, because then I won't have to worry about drinking out of a straw shaped like a penis or wearing a pin that reads "Slutty Roadwhore" or something.

Sid: Whatever, I can totally cry all I want. And you see, Sid, Adam is a friend to whom I have no romantic attraction. I also hated The Matrix and I don't like horror movies, Asian or otherwise, which is a constant point of contention and banter.

Zen: WOOO MOSQUITOES. You know what cures Mosquitoes? Mojitos.

MoL: You know you could come if you wanted to, and if you weren't all San Diegan and shit.

Blues: I think you are heavily undermining the awkward.