Last night, I went to Karen's enagement party at the Beekman Hotel. It was a fancy affair on the 26th floor facing the 59th St. Bridge. A very New York moment for a Chicago debutante heading off to London with her French fiancee.
After one River Side and two Beekman's I found myself really enjoying the couples around me. Lauren, looking very Monica Gellar back from her honeymoon; Stella, dressed in an Art Deco inspired dress with her beau; Jo, in basic black with her PhD candidate Art Historian on her arm; Rella, up from DC with her pint-sized boyfriend; and of course, Karen in a breezy white dress reminiscent of a Greek nymph. I've never seen her so relaxed. Her parents had flown in from Chicago with her younger sister. I finally met them...10 years of friendship later.
Her in-laws and the groom's younger brother were in attedance all the way from their provincial village in France. Not a lick of English was spoken by the lot of them and I felt a bit sleighted at their icy reaction to Jo's well-intentioned attempts at French. For country folk, they were certainly living up to the French stereotype of extreme snootiness.
At the appointed hour, I said my goodbyes and made my way to an office party that was in every way the opposite of this lovely engagement celebration. A night of single, home-wrecking, juvenile hedonism laced in debauchery ensued. My eyes are too bloodshot and my blood alcohol level is still too high for me to do justice so I will leave it this: EPIC.
June 28, 2009
Canada
The Canadian wedding stood in sharp contrast to the girlfest of Lauren's big day. I was on the only non-related girl on the groom's side who came alone. The rest were accompanied by husbands, boyfriends, and family.
I spent most of my time sorting the boys out. There were four from our college crew still single and entirely unsure of the etiquette surrounding all things wedding.
We played a rousing game of Chris Bingo which I was elected to win at the after party.
The painstaking attention the bride personally paid to every aspect of the wedding was awe-inspiring. Her bridesmaid and she made the three tiered wedding cake from scratch. Each layer was a different flavor. They also had created the centerpieces with red daises in clear vases with a series of black stones at the base. She had small stones with names and table numbers painted in white for each guest to pick up prior to seating themselves. The guestbook had polaroid stickers of each guest to affix and sign. They released butterflies at the end of their vows. The ceremony itself was outdoors on the golf course at Chateau Cartier in Quebec. The reception which immediately followed took place in a dining room overlooking the golf course. The bridesmaid's simple yet elegant red dress was mesmerizing. The toasts were as different as Britain and China yet accurately reflected each side's style and sense of humor.
There was a Stuart challenge. This involves up to 11 people chugging a beer each in a relay fashion as Stuart tries to down his singular beer. He's improved since college. At one point he finished before our 4th man. Sad but impressive for Stu. His future wife to be had a great sense of humor about the thing and I was glad they'd found each other.
The night before the wedding the groom's family hosted a wine and cheese at the multi-purpose room in their highrise in Ontario. It was a mish mosh of Chinese, Canadian, British, American, and Happas. It seemed that every couple in our generation was half Chinese and half Caucasian--apparently the Canasian way! I was stunned to be the only Indian in a room where two doctors were tying the knot.
Our first night in Quebec, the bride and groom took us to a casino for some gambling fun. I stuck to the slots and quit when I broke even on my $5CAN. It's uncanny how much money usually cautious people will drop in a casino. It was weird being in a gambling haven after my recent DVR obsession with Las Vegas. Eerie!
Tommy and Li took their turns dancing with me on the slow songs. I even got asked by Dr. Ho for a quick number that quickly slowed down. His one beer flush and constant camera clicking were too endearing for words. Couple that with a trillion vodka club sodas and it's amazing I made it to the after party at all.
We lay side by side on the bed talking for hours as the party whirled around us. Finally the boys went outside to smoke their cigars and drink one guest's gift: home brewed meade. The Dawson's Creek moment passed when the catcalling and cajoling drew us upright and to our separate rooms for a night of repose.
Tommy, Drew, and I had driven up so we made the journey back. Drew stayed with me for three days gathering himself around unemployment before heading north to Boston to visit his folks.
A college reunion wedding with no girls and loads of former engineers in Canada. That was the weekend of June 13, 2009.
I spent most of my time sorting the boys out. There were four from our college crew still single and entirely unsure of the etiquette surrounding all things wedding.
We played a rousing game of Chris Bingo which I was elected to win at the after party.
The painstaking attention the bride personally paid to every aspect of the wedding was awe-inspiring. Her bridesmaid and she made the three tiered wedding cake from scratch. Each layer was a different flavor. They also had created the centerpieces with red daises in clear vases with a series of black stones at the base. She had small stones with names and table numbers painted in white for each guest to pick up prior to seating themselves. The guestbook had polaroid stickers of each guest to affix and sign. They released butterflies at the end of their vows. The ceremony itself was outdoors on the golf course at Chateau Cartier in Quebec. The reception which immediately followed took place in a dining room overlooking the golf course. The bridesmaid's simple yet elegant red dress was mesmerizing. The toasts were as different as Britain and China yet accurately reflected each side's style and sense of humor.
There was a Stuart challenge. This involves up to 11 people chugging a beer each in a relay fashion as Stuart tries to down his singular beer. He's improved since college. At one point he finished before our 4th man. Sad but impressive for Stu. His future wife to be had a great sense of humor about the thing and I was glad they'd found each other.
The night before the wedding the groom's family hosted a wine and cheese at the multi-purpose room in their highrise in Ontario. It was a mish mosh of Chinese, Canadian, British, American, and Happas. It seemed that every couple in our generation was half Chinese and half Caucasian--apparently the Canasian way! I was stunned to be the only Indian in a room where two doctors were tying the knot.
Our first night in Quebec, the bride and groom took us to a casino for some gambling fun. I stuck to the slots and quit when I broke even on my $5CAN. It's uncanny how much money usually cautious people will drop in a casino. It was weird being in a gambling haven after my recent DVR obsession with Las Vegas. Eerie!
Tommy and Li took their turns dancing with me on the slow songs. I even got asked by Dr. Ho for a quick number that quickly slowed down. His one beer flush and constant camera clicking were too endearing for words. Couple that with a trillion vodka club sodas and it's amazing I made it to the after party at all.
We lay side by side on the bed talking for hours as the party whirled around us. Finally the boys went outside to smoke their cigars and drink one guest's gift: home brewed meade. The Dawson's Creek moment passed when the catcalling and cajoling drew us upright and to our separate rooms for a night of repose.
Tommy, Drew, and I had driven up so we made the journey back. Drew stayed with me for three days gathering himself around unemployment before heading north to Boston to visit his folks.
A college reunion wedding with no girls and loads of former engineers in Canada. That was the weekend of June 13, 2009.
Lauren's Wedding
This post is so long overdue I almost didn't write it...
On May 30, 2009, Lauren got married in Prospect Park. It was a glorious sunny day. A few white chairs were laid out in front of a table with sweetly sour red liquid. The ceremony was short but the happiness it will yield will be long.
The reception followed in the picnic house. Both bride and groom were radiant. The bar was open all night. I personally consumed at least a quarter of a bottle of Jack. The bartenders were two of the hottest I'd seen in recent memory.
I was seated beside Helen and Marcy at a table with Norman and his future wife. It was a mini high school reunion--still way more girls than guys. Somethings aren't meant to change. Marcy's little brother who is legitimately 1.5 feet taller than me asked for a dance and I felt my card was filled enough at that. Though I learned later in the night that Lauren's very cute, very young cousin, Matty had not in fact been humoring me when I dragged him onto the dance floor for the last dance. A fact I wouldn't have taken seriously if her brother-in-law hadn't made it a point to impress upon me. Strangely, last night at Karen's engagement party Lauren's husband made some joke about Matty and I recollected fondly just how doe-eyed and sweet he'd been oh so many Saturdays ago...
I was grateful Jo came alone. I know she didn't do it for me, but I felt her plus 1 duties would have fallen along the wayside if she'd had a man in tow. There was some circle dancing true single ladies style--even if the first of us was officially the farthest thing from single--each of us had inadvertently dressed in bright, solid colors creating a rainbow effect across the room.
After the reception we headed to a local bar in Park Slope. Lauren in her wedding finery and the rest of us forming a sea of flowers around her. I even have picture booth photos with Jo which sit on my mirror at home creating a high school TV show effect. Every time I fix my face I see the photo and think to myself that despite how badly my hair frizzed that night, I could never forget what a carefree night I had on Lauren's big day.
The newly weds have recently returned after spending 2 weeks in Croatia--tan and still very much in honeymoon mode.
On May 30, 2009, Lauren got married in Prospect Park. It was a glorious sunny day. A few white chairs were laid out in front of a table with sweetly sour red liquid. The ceremony was short but the happiness it will yield will be long.
The reception followed in the picnic house. Both bride and groom were radiant. The bar was open all night. I personally consumed at least a quarter of a bottle of Jack. The bartenders were two of the hottest I'd seen in recent memory.
I was seated beside Helen and Marcy at a table with Norman and his future wife. It was a mini high school reunion--still way more girls than guys. Somethings aren't meant to change. Marcy's little brother who is legitimately 1.5 feet taller than me asked for a dance and I felt my card was filled enough at that. Though I learned later in the night that Lauren's very cute, very young cousin, Matty had not in fact been humoring me when I dragged him onto the dance floor for the last dance. A fact I wouldn't have taken seriously if her brother-in-law hadn't made it a point to impress upon me. Strangely, last night at Karen's engagement party Lauren's husband made some joke about Matty and I recollected fondly just how doe-eyed and sweet he'd been oh so many Saturdays ago...
I was grateful Jo came alone. I know she didn't do it for me, but I felt her plus 1 duties would have fallen along the wayside if she'd had a man in tow. There was some circle dancing true single ladies style--even if the first of us was officially the farthest thing from single--each of us had inadvertently dressed in bright, solid colors creating a rainbow effect across the room.
After the reception we headed to a local bar in Park Slope. Lauren in her wedding finery and the rest of us forming a sea of flowers around her. I even have picture booth photos with Jo which sit on my mirror at home creating a high school TV show effect. Every time I fix my face I see the photo and think to myself that despite how badly my hair frizzed that night, I could never forget what a carefree night I had on Lauren's big day.
The newly weds have recently returned after spending 2 weeks in Croatia--tan and still very much in honeymoon mode.
June 19, 2009
Canasian Wedding
Li & Me at the Lui wedding in Ottawa
Dr. Ho & I! My love for the Canasian begins...
Tommy dances with me after my first outfit change of the night.
The after party in the groom's suite. No, there were no shenanigans but it was a bevy of boys and moi.
June 9, 2009
Forbes Falls Flat
My first official date with Forbes went aigh. Yeah, I'm usually one for extremes but he just left me feeling AIGH.
He picked me up from work. That part was fine.
We walked over to the Chelsea art galleries for free wine and to view art. That part could have involved a lot less kissing and a lot more walking. It was raining and he didn't do a great job of keeping the umbrella over my head. Also, good thing I had an umbrella because he had conveniently not brought one along.
At the first gallery, he was ignorant. He looked around with the attitude "That's it?" Which I found rude. I mean perhaps another guy could have pulled that off and made it snarky but not him. Additionally in lieu of speaking to the artist standing beside the wine, he grabbed a cup and stalked off. Definitely rude.
At the second gallery he wised up to the fact that I wasn't into being pawed in public and actually drank a few Stellas and commented on the art. This was perhaps the best part of the evening. After sneaking a roadie into his jacket, we hopped a cab to his building on Wall St. under the guise of him teaching me to shoot pool.
He was an arrogant prick in his dealings with the cabbie. He also pawed at me to an uncomfortable degree in the cab to the point that the cab driver asked me if I was alright due to the ridiculous amount of pawing.
Of course, as soon as we got to The Crest, the tour of the building ended in his apartment. I stood my ground and didn't enter the bedroom but we ordered from Indian Express online and had to stay at the apt. till it was delivered.
His roomie's dog (supposedly!) is a Bichon/Maltese mix that wouldn't shut up and had the worst case of tear staining about the eyes. The dog also managed to poop everywhere except his wee wee pad during the course of my brief visit. UGH. Made me appreciate my Luckey infinitely, let me tell you. INFINTELY.
So after some heavy duty, high school style, couch making out which he kept trying to escalate to full fledged petting, he suggested I ease up with the nails in his back. At that point, I'd felt more than a little poke come through on me--let's say he's hung like a squirrel--so I used that semi-insult as my cue to storm out and avoid confirm just how squirrely he was.
He texted me before coming after me. This part wasn't so bad because at the end of the day I need a guy that will come after me. But on a first date, a first fight just seems waaaaaaay out of place....of course, the size of his ego in proportion to his mango also seemed to be an ill-fit.
We went down to Ulysees for a few drinks. Dark&Stormies in fact and chatted for a while. I realized that he had no substance. Other than pawing me, he wasn't able to hold up his end of the conversation let alone initiate it. What little interest I had left at that point evaporated.
My boredom coupled with my annoyance at being pawed incessantly led me to call it a night. He insisted on walking me to the subway which I insisted on taking, however midway there Tommy texted me to say the bachelor (college buddy getting married in Canada this weekend) and he were a few blocks away boozing at my old abode. I let Forbes walk me there and kissed him goodbye before shutting the door in his face. Happy to be rid of a boring guy, I basked in the glow of good guy friends and Jose Cuervo.
Tommy's newest roomie, while young, weird and Southern, is so so cute. I enjoy our limited interactions...in the hopes that one day we'll make out and I'll be over the cuteness and focused on the weirdness.
He picked me up from work. That part was fine.
We walked over to the Chelsea art galleries for free wine and to view art. That part could have involved a lot less kissing and a lot more walking. It was raining and he didn't do a great job of keeping the umbrella over my head. Also, good thing I had an umbrella because he had conveniently not brought one along.
At the first gallery, he was ignorant. He looked around with the attitude "That's it?" Which I found rude. I mean perhaps another guy could have pulled that off and made it snarky but not him. Additionally in lieu of speaking to the artist standing beside the wine, he grabbed a cup and stalked off. Definitely rude.
At the second gallery he wised up to the fact that I wasn't into being pawed in public and actually drank a few Stellas and commented on the art. This was perhaps the best part of the evening. After sneaking a roadie into his jacket, we hopped a cab to his building on Wall St. under the guise of him teaching me to shoot pool.
He was an arrogant prick in his dealings with the cabbie. He also pawed at me to an uncomfortable degree in the cab to the point that the cab driver asked me if I was alright due to the ridiculous amount of pawing.
Of course, as soon as we got to The Crest, the tour of the building ended in his apartment. I stood my ground and didn't enter the bedroom but we ordered from Indian Express online and had to stay at the apt. till it was delivered.
His roomie's dog (supposedly!) is a Bichon/Maltese mix that wouldn't shut up and had the worst case of tear staining about the eyes. The dog also managed to poop everywhere except his wee wee pad during the course of my brief visit. UGH. Made me appreciate my Luckey infinitely, let me tell you. INFINTELY.
So after some heavy duty, high school style, couch making out which he kept trying to escalate to full fledged petting, he suggested I ease up with the nails in his back. At that point, I'd felt more than a little poke come through on me--let's say he's hung like a squirrel--so I used that semi-insult as my cue to storm out and avoid confirm just how squirrely he was.
He texted me before coming after me. This part wasn't so bad because at the end of the day I need a guy that will come after me. But on a first date, a first fight just seems waaaaaaay out of place....of course, the size of his ego in proportion to his mango also seemed to be an ill-fit.
We went down to Ulysees for a few drinks. Dark&Stormies in fact and chatted for a while. I realized that he had no substance. Other than pawing me, he wasn't able to hold up his end of the conversation let alone initiate it. What little interest I had left at that point evaporated.
My boredom coupled with my annoyance at being pawed incessantly led me to call it a night. He insisted on walking me to the subway which I insisted on taking, however midway there Tommy texted me to say the bachelor (college buddy getting married in Canada this weekend) and he were a few blocks away boozing at my old abode. I let Forbes walk me there and kissed him goodbye before shutting the door in his face. Happy to be rid of a boring guy, I basked in the glow of good guy friends and Jose Cuervo.
Tommy's newest roomie, while young, weird and Southern, is so so cute. I enjoy our limited interactions...in the hopes that one day we'll make out and I'll be over the cuteness and focused on the weirdness.
June 8, 2009
An E-mail from the Elbow Non-Toucher
Sorry I havent emailed earlier.
If you do see this moving forward, there is something you should know. I've been seeing someone for a few months, met her last fall. I'm very fond of her sweet nature, and she is extremely tolerant of all my idiosyncrasies (my non-texting policy, among other things). But she is way more invested in the relationship than I am. I've tried to be, but there is a difference in our intellectual wavelengths, and that has always nagged and prevented me from committing myself fully.
We've acknowledged this problem, and I guess we'll have to eventually break up, but what has stopped us so far is the fear of how miserable we'll be once we do. The few times we've come close to it, its been an awful feeling.
I'm really sorry if I've misled you in any way, I'm not super happy about what I'm doing, and a lot of this sounds pretty self-indulgent and arrogant. In fact, I'll probably be cringing sometime in the future about the fact that I actually sent such an email to you. But I'm pretty confused myself, and I think I need to start meeting other people to sort my feelings out.
I really liked talking to you, and would love to keep seeing you if you're still interested.
If you do see this moving forward, there is something you should know. I've been seeing someone for a few months, met her last fall. I'm very fond of her sweet nature, and she is extremely tolerant of all my idiosyncrasies (my non-texting policy, among other things). But she is way more invested in the relationship than I am. I've tried to be, but there is a difference in our intellectual wavelengths, and that has always nagged and prevented me from committing myself fully.
We've acknowledged this problem, and I guess we'll have to eventually break up, but what has stopped us so far is the fear of how miserable we'll be once we do. The few times we've come close to it, its been an awful feeling.
I'm really sorry if I've misled you in any way, I'm not super happy about what I'm doing, and a lot of this sounds pretty self-indulgent and arrogant. In fact, I'll probably be cringing sometime in the future about the fact that I actually sent such an email to you. But I'm pretty confused myself, and I think I need to start meeting other people to sort my feelings out.
I really liked talking to you, and would love to keep seeing you if you're still interested.
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