Mawage...

Even though most you will have no interest in my dreams (not in the abstract sense, I mean the kind you have when you go to sleep) I had one I thought I would share.

Now I've had dreams where I have been a bride before, but usually I wake up before I make it down the aisle or I can't see the grooms face.

But about two days ago I actually went to my own wedding. In my dream of course but nevertheless it was AWESOME. It wasn't a nightmare. I didn't wake up in a cold sweat. This is breakthrough for me, the committmentphobic with a fear of intimacy. So maybe I'll get hitched sometime after all.

I won't share who the groom was, but it wasn't a celebrity (Shocker huh?). It was someone from my past and it was weird because while I was dreaming I was full on in love with him. And I'm not during my awake time. Interesting eh?

It was cool, because the groom was a really nice guy, so I'm glad that my subconscious has good taste in men. But anyway, it was a great wedding and I had the dress on that I picked out last year in April issue of Lucky. It's just like the Monique Lhuiller below (sans gloves and super skinny blonde model).

The wedding cake, now this is the cool part, was a birthday cake. Not the kind you can buy at a store. It was something like a Colette's cake (http://www.colettescakes.com/). It had multiple sections and cake ballons, cake presents and bows made out of fondant. It was AWESOME!

I've always wanted to be an October bride, and in my dream, my wedding was on my brithday, October 16th. EVEN MORE AWESOME! MUCHOS GRACIAS POR LOS REGALOS!

Considering I am pooked as a bridesmaid until the end of the decade it doesn't surprise me that I had my first full length wedding dream. Let's just hope I really get to have one someday. Some day far far far far far far far far far far far far away.

So now my real wedding has to be better than my awesome dream wedding. But I can't get ahead of myself. I still haven't found a crush, let alone a PB or PH or a PRH (even better). Or maybe I'll just get drunk and dial the groom in my dream...maybe he's available. Muah ha ha ha. Just kidding. Or am I?

I would be such a pretty bride. (The "All Brides are Beautiful" thing is a myth so that even ugly girls can feel fabulous on their wedding day.) Thanks, Monique Lhuiller for making my future dress. 

WARNING: WEARING A MAN PURSE IS A HEALTH HAZARD! 

It's raining men...with purses.

Attention all men. Please stop carrying man purses. I don't care who you are, you look like an idiot. Lap top cases, cool. Those canvas messenger bags, passable. But those leather monstrosities that you carry like a frickin Louis Vuitton Damier Alma, really now. Stop it.

Leave the purses to us ladies and we'll all be just fine.

How did you know, Cuz I didn't tell...

If anyone gets the title reference you are Yango! (new phrase picked up by one of teachers, snazzy ain't it?)

Ahhhh, the power of the crush. Not the soda. I mean the flip flop in the stomach, stutter inducing, sweaty palm making, and stare starting kind of crush. The kind that happens on people you only kind of know because the odds are, once you get to know them, they end up being sucky people. The kind that you get when you aren't sure if the object of your affection returns your crushy feelings. The kind that last for more than a few weeks. The kind that last even after you see them wear the same shirt 19 times in one semester. I swear, my Biggest (my dear friends you know who I mean here) crush of all time wore the same damn series of shirts every week for a year and I found it endearing, me of all people, go figure.

I think a crush might be one of the best things in the world. Sure you might not be able to sleep and you make an ass out of yourself in front of the person, but it reminds you that you are human and yes, horny.

A friend of mine has been lucky enough to have a series of crushes lately. I think the latest one is a bit of a doozy. I think he might crush her back but he's a boy and lord knows I know nothing about boys. Especially skinny ones. I unfotunately have been made of stone for the past two years and haven't crushed really hard on someone.

Sure, their was the doctor, but how long did that last, two weeks? And I wouldn't have even crushed him if his picture wasn't up on joonbug.com. Thank you joonbug.com, for filling in the void created by long nights filled with vodka.

I want a crush. Not a celebrity one, because we all know that I have many of those. I mean a living, breathing man, that talks (sometimes) and flirts. I am putting aside the hunt for a PB or PH right now and forging a new quest. The quest for the almighty Crush. Amen.

Cosmic Intervention

Tonight, the one Friday night I stay in because I have to wake up early and trail musical theater kids for class, I lock myself out of my apartment building in pajamas while smoking a cig. Really, was it necessary? So it my gray velour pants and white furry sweat shirt I had to hike through Times Square, past some seriously undesirable characters in order to hit my roommates up for keys at Ruby Foos. Thanks, God or cosmic powers that be. Lesson learned: Be nicer to people and maybe crap like this won't happen. Or maybe they want me to quit smoking. Please, you'll have to try harder than that to get me to give up one of the only things that keeps me sane these days.

The end of an era

So the cutest old man ever died today. I'm kind of sad because I really liked the pope. He seemed like a cool guy. He came to Yonkers once and I didn't go. Then Central Park and I passed again. I was just a teenager then and I didn't realize the impact that one man could have on so many people. Now I regret never seeing him say mass.

I'm not the most religous person and I do have my issues with church doctrine. But I do consider myself Catholic in a raw form. I believe in the basics, Jesus, God, the Holy Spirit and Mary.

I've known the pope was going to die for a while now but it still makes me sad. It's hard to find an example of pure virtue in this world. I just hope the next pope exudes the same kind of holy aura.

So I'm going to say a little prayer today, not for the pope because I know he's ok and no longer suffering, but for the next guy, that he can brave through the storm that comes with the job. And for everyone in mourning, that we may be comforted knowing that John Paul II is now in hands of God.

Spring has sprung

Ah, the end of March means the beginning of spring. Sure, right. The only spring I've seen lately is the street. Besides today's little pocket of wonderful weather, This rain, hail, snow crap really is annoying. And the world seems to be having bizarro weather. Another earthquake in Asia? Really, now. Was that necessary? Haven't they had enough? I swear Mother Nature is PMSing.

I love the spring. It means that I can wear my cute jackets and skirts again. So I am officially on strike from Mother Nature. From now on, I am going to pretend like everyday is lovely spring day. I will wear skirts in the rain and snow. Opened toe shoes in 30 degrees? I'm on it. My pastels are out and ready to go. Bring it on beotch.

The other reason I love spring? It's the end of night life hibernatation. I've left my neighborhood maybe 10 times to go out all winter. I haven't seen many people outside of the Hell's Kitchen social circle so I am assuming no one else has left their areas either. Ok, once the weather gets warmer we should all have a big celebration. We can all crawl out of our caves and start socializing like normal people and hang out in hoods other than our own. I hear the East Village is quite nice this time of year. Wow, the East side, how I've missed you. Now if I could only afford the cab fare....

Spring also means the heat in the building will be shut off soon. I won't have to come home with my 18 layers on anymore to only be greeted by equator-like heat or sleep with my window open and find that my wet hair has frozen to the pillow.

Take care and I'll be seeing you when Mother Nature sucks it up and takes some Midol.