Thursday, November 17, 2011

Boston to Colorado - the "a boob grope and a wedding" edition

My last day in Boston dawned grey and miserable. After breakfast, Paulie and Kat left for the airport and the train station respectively. I had plans to head downtown and finish the Freedom Trail, because my flight to Colorado didn't leave until 5.30. But when I saw how terrible the weather was, I headed straight for the Starbucks attached to the hotel and stayed there. But it wasn't a total waste of time - I wrote this post

Thankfully, I was able to catch a shuttle from the hotel so that I didn't get drenched dragging my suitcase the kilometre to the train station. I successfully managed to navigate my way to the airport without any issues, and checked in straight away so that I didn't have to haul my suitcase around with me. Lunch was at some kind of sports bar/burger place. The waiter felt the need to talk to me at great length about his cousin who lives in Wollongong. I tried not to laugh at his pronunciation. Americans: always putting the emphasis on the wrong syllable. 

After I'd finished my 5,000,000th burger since setting foot in America, I got in the queue for security. I got sent through one of the new fangled backscatter x-ray machines. Upon getting out the other side, the TSA lady told me to wait. She listened to her earpiece thing for a second, and then went "I need to pat down your...chest...area." Apparently the combination of my necklace and the underwires in my bra meant that the machine thought I was a Fembot. 
Not me. Also, source

Who doesn't love getting their boobs groped by a total stranger at an airport? OH WAIT. EVERYONE, THAT'S WHO.

Thankfully, the airport in Boston has free internet if you watch an advert or do a survey, so I was able to kill the remaining hour eating a ridiculously large quantity of Ricola cherry cough drops in an attempt to quell my constant coughing, and do internetty things. The flight back to Denver was uneventful. They showed one of the dumbest movies I've ever seen - Midnight in Paris. I don't know how it's been received elsewhere, but the critics here are RAVING about it. All I can think is that these critics were high when they saw the movie. Or paid off by Woody Allen to say nice things about it. Or maybe they were on whatever happy pills they give all the teenage employees at Chick-fil-A. Seriously. Those kids act like they're working at a classy restaurant, rather than a fast food place. Okay, so they sell amazeballs waffle fries, and I kind of wish they'd open here so that I could get some right now, but that's totally besides the point. I swear to God, the kids who work there are on something. They're entirely too happy and content with picking up other people's rubbish... Holy random pointless tangent, y'all. What was I talking about? Oh, right. Midnight in Paris. I hated all the characters, the plot was ridonkulous, and I wanted to punch Owen Wilson in his stupid face. But, you know, it passed the time until we got to Denver, so I shouldn't complain too much...

Lyndsy picked me up from the airport, and we'd just gotten onto the freeway when a moth flew in front of my face. I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I HATE butterflies and moths. They freak me out. Like, majorly freak me out. There's a distinct possibility that I may have flailed and screamed and generally done this:
Source

Yeah. That happened. Kudos to Lyndsy for not driving off the road/into another car and killing us... (And sorry for scaring the crap out of you, Lyndsy!!) Oh, and no, I didn't break into Eye of the Tiger at any point #jokesthatonlysupernaturalfanswillget

The evening was spent sorting out what stuff we needed to take to Colorado Springs with us the next morning. Apparently that included one of Lyndsy's cats:

The next morning, we got up bright and early, piled into the car, and drove down to Colorado Springs. Upon arrival, we headed straight to the mall to meet Megan, the other bridesmaids, the flowergirls and the mothers to get our nails done. By some miracle, I managed to avoid mangling mine before they were dry. SCORE. From there, it was off to lunch at Olive Garden where, being me, I ordered some kind of pasta with five millionty different cheeses on it. It was pretty awesome. From there, it was off to the church for the rehearsal. There was a gorgeous view from the church across to Pikes Peak, which of course I neglected to take photos of... #fail The rehearsal dinner that night was at a German restaurant. The food was pretty awesome, but I was kind of perplexed as to why they had a video promoting Italy playing on the TVs in the background. 

The day of the wedding dawned bright and sunny. Megan and two of the bridesmaids picked me up to go to the hairdresser at about 9.00. We stopped at Starbucks for breakfast on the way. Pumpkin spice latte (or hot chocolate, if you're me): Breakfast of champions... While the two bridesmaids headed off to do their own hair, Megan and I (because I'm incompetent and can't do my own hair to save myself) settled in to let the hairdresser work her magic. It was definitely memorable:
Hairdresser: Do you want me to tease it up a bit at the back to give it some volume?
Me: Sure, I guess.
Hairdresser: Okay!
Me: [a minute later] But only a little. Not like Tracy Turnblad or anything!! 

Not how my hair looked. Also, source.

Me: ...and oh my God, this girl was such a BITCH!
Hairdresser: No fair! With your accent, it even sounds classy when you say 'bitch'...
Megan: *snorts*

From there, it was off to the church to get dressed. Considering I didn't have to walk down the aisle in front of a ton of people like the others did, I spent some time running "Can you go and tell the groom...?" errands and taking photos and eating doughnuts fruit lots and lots of fruit because I'm health concious like that. *looks guilty* Eventually, I frocked up (which included "Hey small child, can you go and get Lyndsy for me?" because I couldn't do my dress up all the way by myself...) and grabbed the programs, and headed out to man my post as door bitch guest book attendant. I did feel quite a lot like I was manning the entrance to a nightclub, because as people signed the guest book, I gave them free drink cards for the reception. Obviously, everyone loved me as a result. Especially the groomsmen when they found out I had a stack of leftover cards.

It was a gorgeous ceremony, although I *did* have a small moment where I thought the deacon was going to break into "Every Sperm is Sacred" from Monty Python's Flying Circus. Thankfully for all concerned, he didn't. 

QUIT BEING SO ADORABLE, ALL OF YOU.

The reception got off to a good start with me going "OH MY GOD, I WANT TO KNOW IF GEELONG ARE IN THE GRAND FINAL ARGH ARGH ARGH!!!" and Lyndsy's husband looking it up on his iPhone for me. Bless him. Somehow, that led to us using a bunch of the spare free drinks cards and watching Youtube videos of footballers getting injured while waiting for the bridal party to arrive. 

The reception was fun - no dancing or cheesy music, and Megan just laughed when she saw me sidestep during the bouquet toss. Plus, who doesn't love cupcakes?! 
Courtesy of Lyndsy, who thought to take photos of the cupcakes while
it was still light outside...

I'm pretty sure *all* weddings should be that laid back. And, ya know, have cider on tap #justsaying ;)

Next up, the final instalment of my trip, which features autumn leaves, elk, hauntings and mozzarella sticks! 

K xx

PS. Congratulations to Megan and David, even though it's like two months after the fact!! <3


UPDATE: Here's me looking all hot and stuff. Thanks to Megan and David for letting me use the pictures!! You're the bestest friends I've ever flown half way around the world to see get married <3



6 comments:

  1. Sounds like a fantastic time. But Lady, where are the pictures of you dressed in your finery?

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  2. Confession: the only pictures I have of me were taken by the official photographer, so it would be breaching copyright to post them :(

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  3. Look at your shoes! Gorgeous! And I agree with Deidre, that dress is something.

    PS lots of groping in Indian airports as well...I remember visiting a temple and they had security too...and what ensued was a repeat of the airport groping! The joys of travel!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Love your posts, as usual. So entertaining.

    ReplyDelete
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