1+1=3

Wedded Bliss
Originally uploaded by Pookah.

This is how Andrew crashes a wedding. Just as the happy couple finishes their vows and go in for the kiss, there's Andrew!

Okay, so maybe Andrew isn't that invasive, but he certainly got the lion's share of the love last weekend.

Mr. & Mrs. Dan are currently in Mexico, celebrating their new titles of Husband and Wife, but I was there when the magic happened (thank you, Andrew!).

And by "magic," I mean wedding (get your mind out of the gutter!!!). I have never before been to a Jewish ceremony - the closest being my cousin's Bat Mitzvah - and the singing was almost as beautiful as Eric's solo performances during the Seder dinners we had in college.

The day started with a few rain storms and the arrival of David from Germany - by way of NYC, of course. We introduced Andrew to Bloody Mary's, which are now his drink of choice, and lubricated our vocal chords with vodka.

Why, you might ask? Because we were all required to get out on the dance floor at the wedding and sing. I KID YOU NOT. As a group, we Penn people were called up to the "stage," each of us claiming that, "If I have to go, YOU'RE going," or, "Strength in numbers, guys, strength in numbers." The latter of which really wasn't true, though. I think it's official that only Andrew, Courtney and Dan know all the words to The Red and the Blue. I felt like a jackass swinging my arm back and forth Nazi-style (a little higher than it was supposed to be so as to avoid thwacking David upside the head), singing, "Hoorah, hoorah, Penn-syl-van-i-a."

But I get ahead of myself. All this Penn gusto was later in the day. We arrived at the farm with just enough time to talk to the wedding party, ask Dan where the loo was, and relieve ourselves of all that Bloody Mary goodness, before we had to find somewhere out of the way (all the seats were taken) so as not to take away all of Courtney's thunder on the aisle.

Nearly everyone did their catwalk before I realized I was taking lousy pictures because I forgot to turn the flash on. And then I was gearing up for some really great shots when the official photographer jumped in my way. If I didn't love Dan & Court so much, I think I would have beaten him to death with his own photo equipment (I say that in jest, mind you).

The ceremony was about a half hour, which I think is the perfect amount of time. Jeff and I once went to a wedding where we were a few minutes late and the wedding area ("area" because it was outside) was already cleared. Michelle, Vince and I have also been on time for a wedding that must have topped out at two and a half minutes, with the couple strolling down the aisle to R&B music.

In any case, the ceremony was really quite simple and heartfelt. Dan was telling me that his uncle officiated, and everything had to be repeated twice, once for Dan's family, and once for the rest of us who don't speak Hebrew. Did I mention how cute Andrew looked in his little Jewish skull cap? (Nobody take a fit now, I know it's a yarmaluke.)

Dan's uncle related a bunch of personal stories about Courtney and Dan, which is why if you've seen the pictures on Kodak Gallery, you'll note I've mentioned Blazing Saddles and Hook. The bride and groom's favorite movies were shown to be metaphors for how they look at and embrace life. It was all very deep, and also hardly audible as the acoustics in the farm weren't exactly at the level of a Rolling Stones concert these days.

But I enjoyed myself immensely.

That, however, may very well be due to the five or so screwdrivers that Andrew hand-fed me during the cocktail hour(due to the fact that they actually carded us at the bar - and I forgot my license!). It's either that or the soul-stirring rendition of What a Wonderful Life that David wooed Kevin with during the wedded couple's first dance. It was all very traumatic - I mean, romantic.

Have I yet mentioned our favorite HOTTIE, Heather? Well, I finally got around to meeting the girl who's most famous for making Kevin monogamous these past six months. We are still wondering how Kevin could keep someone SO HOT and not let us meet her until now.

(By the way, this HOTTIE thing I've got going on here with Heather actually has a story - when I met her at the pre-wedding luncheon on Saturday, Kevin kept saying to me, "Isn't my girlfriend HOT?" To which I responded, "Oh Heather, you're SO FRIGGIN' HOT. And now I'm going to tell you that every time I see you." So every ten minutes at the wedding, I told Heather she was a HOTTIE and Kevin just grinned and puffed out his chest.)

So there was dancing and the white-man overbite for Andrew, a little lesbian four-year-old who crawled under HOTTIE's skirt and then kicked her in the crotch (there's a way to NOT make friends), a live band, Dan & Courtney carried around on their chairs, a lot of watching David smoke out on the patio, a happy phone call to wish Martha a lot of "fucking" on her birthday, and a host of drinks.

Who was there, you ask? Well, a bunch of people I don't know, followed by a following from Penn, which includes me, David, Kevin, Andrew, that girl Jenny who was friends with Bjeorn and lived in Hill, her boyfriend Johnny (and NO, not Johnny Yau, Ben's favorite roommate - in fact, I have no idea who he is), and Akiva. There may have been more people from Penn, but I don't know them and I was so ashamed of my singing, I only saw the back of David's head.

The food was excellent, much like David's dancing, and we made friends with a beautiful red-head named Dana who was at our table. David was contemplating which stranger's bed he would attempt to be in by the end of the day, and she was definitely on his list. However, we were the last people to leave - other than the immediate family - and Andrew and I are pretty sure that the only two people that made it into the same bed that evening were Kevin and HOTTIE (they mentioned something about a Best Western, and Andrew and I kept a lookout to make sure they never entered the same bathroom during their "potty breaks").

So, we parked in a field. And at the end of the evening, after my failed attempt to steal a bridesmaid's purse (Heather told me it was Kevin's man-bag), we stood in that field like a bunch of schoolchildren out past our bedtimes. In fact, we were just trying to hide the certain something that certain someones shouldn't necessarily do out in the open amongst good god-fearing folk, but a few of us made it out of there a little happier, a little less drunk, and a lot more satisfied. The itch, as they say, had been scratched. (Let me just say here, for all future readers, both professional and personal - I did not partake. I am not of the partaking kind. Nor do I care if someone else is. So there's my awesome disclaimer.)

And while Kevin and Heather zoomed off for their evening of Best Western lovin', Andrew, David and I found our way back to my house for some instruction from my mother on how NOT to make an impression on my very impressionable friends. And while she was off getting us coffee at Dunkin' Donuts, we made some home movies with David and Andrew laying on my kitchen counter.

Those of you from Melslist, I have tried for two days now to email you those movies, but they have failed to send. Another day, another disappointment.

Anyway, I of course wish Dan and Courtney the best of love and happiness, knowing that each of them could never really be complete without the other. I have never seen two so deserving people find their right match. If I had another Bloody Mary, I'd say, "Here's to you, Dan & Court!" I might even add Andrew to the list, as he is such a big fan of tomato juice and tabasco sauce.

Wedding News Coming Soon, But For Now I Am Grossly Overweight

Well, the U.S. is anyway. I'm reading on the BBC that new figures for obesity in the U.S. are out, and it still manages to shock me. The good news is that Massachusetts is ranked 48th out of 52. Unfortunately for me, I am about to move to D.C., which is ranked 15th. You can check out your own state here.

Here's a sample of the article:

In the past year, the adult obesity rate rose in 48 of America's states, and nationally from 23.7% to 24.5%, Trust for America's Health found.

In 10 states, over a quarter of adults are now obese, despite campaigns and alerting people to the dangers of over-eating.

God, are we ever FAT! There are a bunch of comments at the bottom of the article, posted by readers from all over the world, and I tend to agree with most of the points that are made. There are certainly quite a few angles with which to view the obesity issue, and I don't know how we as a nation are going to solve this problem. Nor am I entirely sure that the federal government should have a say in how we eat, exercise (or don't), et. al. Are we trying to enter the world of Big Brother here? Or, should the government have a say because it is not necessarily a quality of life issue that they care about, but rather a lesson in economics? I certainly don't pretend to have a strong opinion here.

Yet, the cynic in me is thinking that perhaps now that we're making some headway with different cancers, Mother Nature is finding a new way to kill us off. It's almost like we as a people are programmed to be self-destructive these days - kind of like those rats in lab drug tests that have total access to the button and end up ODing... we keep wanting more, more, MORE. OF EVERYTHING.

Maybe too much of a good thing ain't so good.

Insert Sad Face Here

All you Penn people, did you know that Koch's Deli has closed??? Vince has just informed me of the following news, which I snagged from the Daily Pennsylvanian:

"W. Phila. loses popular deli owner
Bob Koch, owner of Koch's Deli, died Monday
August 9, 2005

Robert "Bob" Koch, owner of Koch's Deli at 43rd and Locust streets, died of heart failure Monday. Koch was 58.

Patrons said they saw Bob Koch on Saturday and he seemed in good health.

A message on the answering machine at the deli announced his passing, and said that the fate of the deli has "yet to be determined."

The deli has been a West Philadelphia mainstay for decades, and Koch was widely known for for his good humor while waiting on the notoriously long lines that frequently spilled out into the street.

Koch's Take Out Shop, located at 4309 Locust St., opened 39 years ago under the ownership of Koch's parents Sid and Frances. Their sons Bob and Louis also worked in the deli and continued to run it, almost unchanged, after their parents died. Lou died of a heart attack in 1995 at the age of 50."

This is a travesty! There is almost no reason for me to ever go back to Philadelphia (friends aside).

On top of that, our closest weekend brunch spot, Campus Epicurean, has also magically been turned into a Vietnamese restaurant. Next thing you know, Smoke's and Mad4Mex will be historic landmarks only in our memories as well...

What very sad news today (although Vince, I really did think you were going to tell me that one of the cats had died).

In Nine Minutes or Less

As I am only allowed to use the internet for personal use on MY OWN TIME, I am spending the last 9 - make that 8 - minutes of my lunch break letting you all know that I have not dropped off the face of the planet, but I will likely be making fewer contributions to my Blog during the next few weeks. It appears that I have landed myself a temp job in Natick ( a lovely 1-hour drive from my house most days) and, as I hinted at above, company time is NOT for my personal pleasure.

So Andrew, Yael, you will just have to live through your days without me - somehow.

I will post when I can, but I am a lazy slob when I get home from work and may not approach the computer until the weekend.

As for the job, I spent all day yesterday at the photocopier. And who says my life isn't exciting?

Because There Were Only Twelve of Us in the Theatre

I know I'm a little late to jump on the bandwagon - i.e. if this movie is playing at the second-run theatre in my home town, then it is probably out of most theatres by now - you all NEED to see Crash. From the director/writer that brought us The Love Boat, Diff'rent Strokes, The Facts of Life, Walker Texas Ranger, and Million Dollar Baby, comes a striking tale of racial tensions in Los Angeles. I have never seen Sandra Bullock act like such a flaming bitch before - and she's good at it, too. In fact, all the actors are amazing - Don Cheadle, Matt Dillon, Jennifer Esposito, Brendan Fraser, Ludacris, Thandie Newton, Ryan Phillipe, Larenz Tate...

I know Anthony wouldn't want to see this film because it's so serious, and he likes his movies to be escapist, but I haven't seen any movies lately that are so indescribably real and true to life. The movie just seems so plausible. The lives of several LA citizens are flawlessly interwoven over the course of two days, and you get to see the good and bad in each of them. It just reminds you that you can never truly know someone from their dress, attitude, or even a first impression.

I'm no movie critic, but I really think you all ought to see this film. Go out and support all our B-list actors! Besides, even my stepfather was exlaiming, "I love the direction in this film! I love this director."

(And I still can't understand why the movie moguls aren't pushing the hype for this movie.)

See? I Can Post...

Andrew (just scroll down to the M's) gets so upset when I don't post every day that I feel this overwhelming need to write fairly often, and if I don't, Andrew is sure to email me and whine about actually having to work those two minutes a day it would take him to read my Blog. So this boring mass of an entry is dedicated to you, Andrew.

I must admit it is hard to compose something really brilliant to say when your life consists of laundry and grocery shopping and keeping my menopausal mother happy by taking the dogs for a walk at noon and five p.m. each day so she can avoid the humidity like the plague (can anyone say "hot flashes?"). I'm not like Erin, who has something to say about everything. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that the television is on the news at the gym when my lazy arse is on the treadmill at six in the morning, I don't think I'd even know what was going on in my back yard. (Sincerely, I would try to be more involved if I could believe in my heart that the American news media - both television and print - is unbiased and unsensationalistic; I mean really, when did the comings and goings of Brittany Spears become important to CNN?)

In any case, I have no hot topic of conversation to lay out for you. I'm just a boring, boring, BORING woman who just happens to be planning her fourth move in less than a year. The biggest news I've had all week is that one of the temp agencies I've applied at has found me something to do for the next three weeks. At least those few hundred dollars in my bank account will have some friends soon.

I'm not sure I mentioned it, but Anthony and I are also planning on providing my mother with a grandchild - of the four-legged variety anyway. Once we get settled in D.C., we're going to get a Doberman Pinscher pup. The big debate right now is what to name her. Everything we come up with, my mother hates. It's gotten so bad that our conversations sound like this:

"Please don't name her Mathilda. If this is going to be my only grandchild, I don't want to call her Mathilda."

"Mother, why don't you take this up with Anthony? It's HIS dog after all."

"I hate the name Mattie. I'm not calling her Mattie."

"Then call her Tillie."

"Well, Tillie's okay. How about Ida? Or Boobie?" (YES, THE WOMAN SAID BOOBIE.)

[reaches one hand out as if to grab the chest of an over-developed teenage cheerleader] "Yeah, I can just see it now - Boobie, sit! Boobie, stay! Boobie, come here!!! The neighbors will love it."

This of course is followed by another round of dozens of completely inappropriate names. Not that any of you are surprised. This is, after all, the woman who told Kevin over the telephone that she was sprouting nipple hairs - the better for men to floss with, she said! Such a delightful woman. (And now you all know where I came from...)

We are now thinking of names like Anca (which is elvish for "jaws") and Suka (which is Polish for "bitch"). Anthony is not too keen on the latter, but I think his stepdad, who happens to be Polish, will find it highly amusing. And who else will know Polish anyway?

Anyway, it's a lot easier than, "Mathilda, attack balls!" (which is the one command I want my baby girl to have down like a pro - it will come in quite handy while we're traveling the world).

At the same time we get the dog from a breeder, we plan on adopting a kitty from an animal shelter. I've been cruising the net for humane societies in the D.C. area and have decided that it is going to be very difficult for me not to adopt a handful of kitties while I'm there! Anthony insists on a kitten, but how can your heart not go out to the older kitties who are considered special needs because no one wants to adopt an older pet - everyone just wants the flashy, new model! There was a Petco in NYC that had kitties in cages at the front of the store, on loan from a local humane society, and I fell in love with this great one-eyed cat. Really, how can you not want to open up your home to a little furry creature that has no other hope? It's like starving Somali babies, really. Except that animals don't have a choice, like humans do. Domesticated animals rely on us for food, water, shelter, and love. They have been bred to live in houses, not street corners. They need us to make the decision to spade and neuter, and not to get rid of them just because we're moving or don't want to deal with a pet anymore.

In any case, it's just terrible. And I'm going to want to adopt a whole HOUSEFUL of kitties, Mr. Anthony. Here's to beating him down with my arguments.

Other items up for discussion: travel. Two exciting tidbits lately, one being Las Vegas and one being Russia. Although I don't find Las Vegas even remotely interesting in and of itself, the fact that about 8 of my friends from college may all be heading out there this November to crash and burn makes it all that much more appealing. It's one of those East meets West kind of thing, although it's nowhere near the middle. With any kind of luck, I'll be employed in D.C. by then and be able to afford to travel with my agent, one Ms. Mel, and all the other East-coasters. Only time will tell.

As for Russia, my mom's friend Denis, who is a Russian by birth, recently got married and coincidentally got his greencard. Which means he can visit home again and host another ceremony in Moscow with his family in attendance. Which means that my mom and I can crash the party. YAY! We expect the bride to be making her plans for sometime next spring or summer and will be relentless in our pursuit of an invitation. You'll have to stay tuned to see if this one pans out.

Other than that, I am still waking up at 5:30AM to hit the gym and wishing that the construction workers at my mom's housing community would stop staring at me like they'd never seen a walking vagina before (one of the supervisors stopped by the house yesterday to check our vents and my mother felt the need to be my bodyguard and stand between him and I for his entire visit - I am highly amused, as if he didn't actually have five grandchildren, and as if I haven't been trained to kill any man who tries any of that funny business with me!) .

Ollie Ollie Oxen Free

I just sent Anthony packing after dragging him to the worst movie ever at the Strand last night. I wanted him to have the experience of seeing a movie at the Strand, which is this wonderful old theatre on the main street of town that was reconstructed and refinished about ten years ago. Unfortunately, the choices were the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (which he refers to as the Sisterhood of the Traveling Tampon, and my mom agrees that a movie of that title would at least have more entertainment value) and Bewitched. Since it is a second-run theatre and has only one screen, there is only one movie playing each week. We waited for Bewitched and were sorely disappointed - although I only got him in there by telling him that he could buy beer at the concession stand and saying, "At least Will Ferrell is in it."

Clearly even Will Ferrell couldn't make the movie any more watchable. Anthony kept grabbing my leg and snickering during the really poor scenes, which only served to drive me more batty than the movie could. All I can say is that it is unfortunate that such time-honored and excellent actors like Shirley MacLaine and Michael Caine should feel the need to stoop so low. And this movie just continues to prove how abysmal an actress Nicole Kidman is (has she played a role in any movie that I've liked??? I'm looking through IMDB right now, but can only find Moulin Rouge, which I loved!, though through no fault of her own).

In any case, Anthony is gone now and I think the movie chased him away.

Either that, or he's gone to North Carolina to visit his family before he has to report for work in a week.

In my own news, I am starting a new job next week through a temp agency. It's administrative in nature and should pay the bills for the next few months or so until I can move down to D.C. (The job hunt for that neck of the woods still continues.) The downside is the 45 minute drive to Natick in morning traffic and the fact that I will have to work with someone who made a very BAD first impression on me. We'll see if it gets any better. It must be better than sitting on my ass all day, looking for jobs and feeling sorry for my bored self.

I also joined the local gym two days ago. I needed some more motivation to get moving, which the construction workers outside my bedroom window aren't giving me. (Did I tell you that I wake up to the sound of jackhammers or banging or clapping or unoiled machine part screeching every morning?!!) So I've now worn out my right forearm somehow and I'm looking forward to more abuse tomorrow. If I can get back into some sort of schedule of work, gym, and applying for D.C. jobs, I think I'll be able to comfortably get back into some of my clothes (not that I'm a heifer by any standards, but things have been a bit snug around here, what with all the visits to Dairy Queen! - yes, I always pronounce it with an exclamation point - and all).

Other than that, my corner of the world is pretty quiet. Andrew and I are attending the wedding of Mr. & Mrs. Dan Carp at the end of the month, and I am still expecting Darwin and Emma sometime in the first week of September, but the next few weeks are quiet.