It's Monday, which could mean only one thing. Day spent catching up on weekend engagements, bridal showers, bach parties and weddings on Facebook. It reminded me that I have a blog I haven't written on in forever. Not ok, I said ... and thus I'm making my comeback mid-July. The past few weeks have been uber busy with work, travel, wasted hours watching The Bachelorette, etc. Despite saying all weekend that I should move to Chicago - if there's ever a time to be in love with this concrete jungle, it's summertime in the city. A mere attempt at sunbathing on the Hudson River yesterday didn't exactly go as planned. [CUE SCENE] While keeping a close eye on the bees busily humming around my head - ugly, disgusting bird torpedoes across my blanket and Hiroshima/Nagasaki's a heeping wad of shit on my leg; panicked sunbather (me) screams, jumps up, runs for napkin at hotdog vendor, notices she's knocked her water bottle into her purse which is now dripping; wallet, blackberry, etc. soaking wet.
Seems rather unlucky to me - but let me drop some thoughts on you like that bird did on me:
- The Bachelorette is awful ... and yet, similar to when I catch myself staring at 16 year olds with babies and a "boyfriend" on the subway train and wondering if they're happier than me ... I can't look away.
- My exit from the world for a little while was dictated by a big event I was managing down at the ESSENCE Music Festival. New Orleans. Fourth of July. Mary J. Kanye. Usher. Little to no white girls from New York. As the token vanilla on the team for this one (my dad being born in Africa and Sicilian genes gave me a slight edge), I had some initiation rights and lessons-learned ... but after learning to wobble and holding my own for a longggg weekend, I'm in. The trip ended in great results, an honorary black card, a 17-hour nap, a promotion and the honor of getting a flash mob under my belt. Check it out here (client).
- Seems like every weekend I look to book something for the remainder of the summer/fall and am stopped with the pen strokes indicating a bridal shower or bachelorette party or wedding. Guys don't fully or truly understand the extent of ridiculous that goes down at these lady-clad events. The poems about panties (I shudder at the word), the awkward questions asked in front of moms and mother-in-laws to be, the intense game of wedding bingo ... or you know - the ever popular - "toilet paper wedding dress" competition.
- As a coworker and I boarded the World Yacht around Manhattan last week, I watched her pull out her electronic bucket list, cross an item off with a photo that she then posted to her "Bucket List" Facebook album. I decided I'm going to need a bucket list, too. It's like when I sat pretending not to care that my childhood friend was opening the present my mom bought her for a birthday and knowing that I deserved that Magic Nursery Baby more than her. Clearly I haven't matured much - but stay tuned for my "Thirty before Thirty" list. 1) Make a bucket list
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