Day Two of the Wedding Hullabaloo

I arrived in sunny (cold) Medford, Oregon to Missy and her hubby Ryan, which was a surprise! I thought her parents were picking me up at the airport.  I was sleepy looking and bloated from riding on airplanes without water (which lasted ALL WEEK… thanks United/Delta!), I was miserable and looked it.  I couldn’t even get my ring off. But then, I was also able to see one of my best friends in the whole world and I perked up. So, I chose to hang out with them while they ran errands, which was a ride to remember. They still needed to purchase champagne flutes, rope for their God Knot ceremony and the license to wed. Not to mention, a final tux and dress fitting, plus lunch.

I don't know why I do that thing where I lean over in pictures. I'm tall... I should be proud. And yet, I lean. (BTW.. Look how puffy! God, you could squeeze water for a village out of my face.)

So we headed into the anti-booming blink of a town, Medford, and began the search for champagne flutes… each getting uglier than the last. We wandered to the far corner of the glassware and found a whole selection of Vera Wang flutes. One… hideous. The other… not um… hideous. As if by fate or destiny… a chipper blonde in her 40s, who knew how to read about as well as a dyslexic three year old, showed up to assist. My favorite thing about being a writer is when a person walks into my life and instantly becomes a character in a story. This woman was about my height, clearly ate a lot of salad and probably not much else, judging by the state of her teeny tiny ankles and that weird anorexic looking neck, and was happier than a person who works in retail should ever be. It was nauseating. She was blowing by us in a hurry all bespectacled and busy looking. Then she opened her mouth and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. “Hey Guuuyeeees! Can I Help youuuu?” Oh boy.

This woman couldn’t find a snowflake in a snowstorm. We all told her what the name of this particular flute was and she went back in the backroom for what seemed like forever. She came back with a box and one glance on the side of it and we told her it was the wrong box. She insisted on opening it to check. We win. Wrong flutes. I’m as blonde as the next fake blonde but somewhere under all of this hair is a brain and I think that I might possibly have an unfair advantage. This woman was a fake blonde with some impressive roots, so it’s safe to say that she’s just a blonde and move on. But… I’m blonde. And I can read. Especially four letter words. So while she returned to the back room to hunt for champagne flutes that were beyond her reading level, I thanked my lucky stars that this woman was a) not an investogator, b) not a doctor, and c) not looking for my champagne flutes. She zoomed out of the backroom all loafery heels and all, proud of her findings and this time, she got it right! Miracle of miracles. Another miracle? The store allows this woman to operate heavy machinery also known as a cash register. We carried the flutes over to the register area and opened the box to examine them. Neat. Now they have brand new champagne flutes with her fingerprints all over them. The gift that keeps on giving! She rang us up, hopefully got the amount right and we were on our merry way. Missy scolded me throughout the whole process. I couldn’t help but make fun of this woman. She was too good to be true. How could I pass up an easy target?

After the champagne flute debacle, we went to the tux shop so Ryan could make his final decisions regarding shiny lapels and tie colors, shoes and whatever else goes into finding the perfect tux for a day. I would have been paying more attention had I not come across this beast of nature.

eez hawt on cownter

There were display shelves under the counter and the lights from the shelves made the counter warm. Apparently kitty likes this particular spot for its ability to keep the heat since they shaved the poor thing to look like an asshole. (An adorable asshole… but still.)

see?

For the next thirty minutes I did nothing but chase this cat around, pet him/her, take pictures of him/her, and generally make a nuisance of myself. I wasn’t the one wearing the tux… what did I care? I just wanted to make a furry new friend. And I did! Poor cat.

swinging his/her tail too fast for camera phone

oh please... like you wouldn't have done the same thing! look at those fuzzy little cheeks!

Next on the agenda was the courthouse to obtain a marriage license. Always an adventure. Ryan knew right where the building was… after we walked around the entire complex and finally settled on a large building situated exactly in the center of the three blocks that this system of law resided among. Upon entering, we were immediately confronted by guards and a security screening area. For a marriage license? We thought not. Ryan gave up, with many thanks from Missy and my feet, and we found an information desk. Turns out we couldn’t have found this place with a compass and a map. They had moved it to another building temporarily and this particular building/office was not marked. He gave us directions that consisted mostly of: down the stairs, around the pole, over the grass heap, high five each other, to the left, to the right, now slide, and the door to marriage licensry was to be in an outdoor hallway. Feeling very Hansel and Gretel and about this whole thing, we enter. I was there for photographic evidence that is not on my camera (like about 95% of the pictures) sorry ’bout that.

I’ll skip all the mumbo jumbo about filling out the paperwork. It was all done on a computer, pretty basic stuff really… except for this one guy. I’m not going to even try to be nice about this. Stupid people irritate me and this day was riddled with them. There were three couples in the office at the time. Missy and Ryan, this other adorable couple that we think were married the night before in the same hotel, and then… the morons. Dude couldn’t use a computer. Didn’t have a clue. Yeah, I laughed out loud when I overheard it. Yes, the room was quiet and he probably heard me. Do I think he realized I was laughing at him? No. Why? Because if he can’t use a computer, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that he is also ignorant to the fact that he’s like the only person in the modern world that can’t figure out what this means: Enter Your Information In The Provided Boxes Then Click Next and that it’s not just funny, but hilarious.

First Name: Lost on HIM!
Last Name: We have those?
Date of Birth: Whose? Mine?
Address: Under The Bridge

Good. Lord.

They let him have a license. To get married. To another human being. Yeah… welcome to America: Land of Opportunity. (even if you’re an ass hat.)

We went rope shopping after we found the car again and snapped more pictures by a pretty tree. The rope was for their God Knot Ceremony, which (other than the fact that trying to find matching rope is a giant pain in the ass) was pretty cool. We went to three different stores and I had fun pulling the ropes off the spool. I know, I’m *such* a jerk. Also, I’m a child at heart and it was FUN. Don’t judge me! After traveling all day on Monday and then sleeping for 5 hours and climbing on another teeny plane to finally arrive in Oregon, I was getting slap happy.

Much of the rest of the day is a blur for me. We ate Indian food. Delicious. We drank smoothies at a smoothie bar which had a cool chick behind the bar. Anyone who can deal with my indecisiveness and my obvious lack of a filter when I referred to the “Fat Blaster” as the Butt Smoothie is top notch in my book. We had some serious witty banter going on in there. Apparently I packed my personality on this trip. Win!

Which leads us to… CAKE DAY! (Or… the day I earned the title of “Most Useful Bridesmaid”)

once again… to be continued….