turks, wedding, serving, link dump, chickens!

the wedding! it was amazing. turks and caicos is beautiful. the water is unbelievably clear and blue. the sand on the beaches is powder-fine and never gets hot. the beaches are never crowded. frozen mojitos to your heart's desire. never too hot or without a good breeze. and it's really pretty walkable. emily knew a bunch of us were staying at the next hotel over from her fancy expensive one so got us all flashlights to keep with us because the walk along the beach from one to the other was iminently easier than navigating all the streets and driveways. also, it's a british colony or whatever and they totally drive on the other side of the road so stupid americans are bound to look the wrong way.

 

there was little to no drama from the whiny bridesmaids. we had rain on the wedding day but it stopped pre-ceremony. we wore hydrangeas in our hair. emily was a STUNNING bride. soooo soooo beautiful. and we went snorkeling (twice!) and hung with rastas and ate conch ceviche. drank. a lot.  it was the perfect vacation. not terribly relaxing as i felt there was always somewhere i had to be, but whatever my committment, the attire was a bikini and sundress so who could complain?

 

my two complaints: ATMs are few and far between and i was always needing cash. AND room service stops at like 11pm. what do you do if it's 3:30am and you're drunk and hungry (which i pretty much was every night out there)? you STARVE. not even a damn pizza joint. i am going to make millions putting ATMs in every hotel and serving some freaking good pizza, 24 hours, for $50 a pop. people there are rich. they'll pay.

 

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!

 

via balk at theawl.com: "Ya know, I think making me feel respect for Jesse Ventura may wind up being one of the Bush Administration's greatest crimes."

 

speaking of the awl, i got a shoutout. not afraid to be servicey!

 

george was always my favorite beatle.

 

this bit on frank bruni is amazing. cheers to jeffrey tascarella for a really enjoyable read. also, i love scarpetta. and apologies for the fact that the last time i was in (emily brought me there for a birthday dinner) we got into a deep convo about my life/family/career that left me absolutely sobbing at the table. for like an hour. and though at the time i didn't give a fuck who saw me, in hindsight i'm fairly certain that a scene was made. it wasn't loud sobbing but it was a big, ugly, nose-blowing cry-fest. so sorry that all that went down at your lovely establishment. i promise to be in better spirits next time!

 

and re: the above post and the waiter at ago, i'm always shocked when i read bad reviews about a waiter. i waited tables, at good restaurants, for a long damn time. it's not a difficult job. even when you're slammed and in the weeds, if you're semi-efficient and keep a smile on your face and, you know, are nice to people...you guaranteed get forgiven for whatever mishaps happen over the course of a meal. oh, and freaking check back and ask the WHOLE table if ANYONE needs anything and get a definite answer from them all before you walk away. that's it. easy peasy. i can't understand getting into the service industry if you can't pretend to be nice to people for 8 hour stretches.

 

look at the plastic life gallery: awesome.

 

a gchat message from ted:

 

"i just rememberd two things to tell you
1. my mom said the chickens are laying eggs and she wants you to come down and help collect them
2. she's gonna name her next chicken after you"

 

ted's parents know i'm from chicago and that i'm a lawyer and a liberal and they have all of these perceptions about me that involve some top floor office, being some high-powered attorney/dominatrix or something. they loved sarah palin. and they are obsessed with me coming to the farm because they think i'd show up in stilettos and have never seen dirt before and they just want to see me freak out. granted, i don't like dirt that much but i'm not afraid of it. especially if there's a place to shower somewhere in the vicinity. but anyways, if i ever get down to the farm, i think i'm going to really disappoint them with my normal self. down-to-earth self, even.

 

was strolling down the upper west side and heard some 20's jazz roaring from the subway station. cross into the median and there's a cute little concert going on in verdi square. the band leader was this crazy, funny, young dude called grandpa musselman. very random. but a sweet little new york moment on a lazy sunday afternoon...