Archive for April 2010

If You A Fly Girl, Get Your Nails Done, Get A Pedicure, Get Your Hair Did

April 21, 2010

T-minus 8 days (and about a half hour).  The days are going faster than I ever expected, and I couldn’t be happier about it.  I guess I owe most of that to the fact that it’s spring, and days always go faster in spring and summer than they do in winter.  Plus, most of my time outside of work has been spent keeping busy doing various wedding-related things.  My days, although usually filled with tasks, have been so enjoyable lately.  Mostly it’s because I know that every day I complete brings me one day closer to April 30th.

A lot of people have been congratulating me lately, saying things like, “Ohhh it’s getting closer!” and “So exciting, it’s almost here!”  But for every time I hear such nice words as those, I have to deal with people who insist on asking me if I’m ready.  “Are you ready to be married?”  Or even better: “Are you nervous?”  That one kind of bothers me.  It also bothers me when people say things like, “Still time to get out of it!”  or “It’s not too late to run!”  I mean, surely they’re saying it light-heartedly, but how in the hell am I supposed to respond to that?  How is that even funny to begin with? What am I supposed to say?  “You’re right, it’s NOT too late.  Thank God you brought that to light.  Screw this, I’m OUT.  THE WEDDING IS OFF!”  My response has remained the same since day one.  A simple, yet emphatic “No.”

Why would I be nervous?  I’ve never been so ready and excited for anything in my entire life.   Show me a man who’s nervous about getting married, and I’ll show you a man who is not ready to be married.  I have absolutely nothing to be nervous about, people.   It’s one thing to be nervous about the actual wedding itself,  (even still, I’m not)  but people have asked me if I’m nervous about being married.  Not even the slightest bit.  Again, if someone is nervous about their future marriage, they aren’t ready.  It’s that simple.  A marriage should begin with absolutely no reservation from either the bride or the groom.  If you’ve got uncertainty, then getting married isn’t going to solve that.  You’re either ready, or you’re not.  I am ready.  There, I’ve said my piece.

Onto lighter things.  Things that will undoubtedly lead to me being made fun of.  Lately, in preparation for the big day, I’ve taken to some behaviors that are very atypical of my usual routine.  It all started a couple of weeks ago, when Jess’ aunt and mom were talking, and the topic came up about pictures.  Her aunt implored her mom to start tanning so as to not look like a direct descendant of Casper the friendly ghost in all of the wedding-day pictures.  This created a trickle down effect, by which Jess was thrust into the world of tanning salons in order to ensure that she has a tasteful glow about her.

And then we come to me.  The time finally came when Jess said to me, something to the effect of, “You know, maybe you should start tanning too, just so you don’t look so pale compared to all of us.”  Eh, I’m an easy going guy, and it’s tough to emerge from a Minnesota winter without looking like you were rolled in a giant bag of flour, so I humbly agreed.  It’s not the worst thing, and I tan pretty easily, so it won’t take much for me to get a little color on me.  And by “color” I don’t mean orange.  I don’t plan on having an Oompa Loompa-themed wedding, nor do I plan on our wedding pictures looking like a casting photo from Jersey Shore.  However, these pictures are going to be around for a long time, so it’s not horrible to take precautions so I don’t forever look like I was trapped indoors for 6 years playing World of Warcraft.

Trust me, there will be no “Snookies,” and no “Situations” at this wedding.  No acid washed jeans either, what is this, 1987?

So, the tanning is just the tip of the iceberg that is my recent swing into metrosexuality. Delving deeper, I have every intention of going to the barber shop a day or two before the wedding to get a final once over.  Trim around the ears, clean up the neck hair, snip off any hairs gone wild, that sort of thing.  Normally, I get a haircut every six weeks or so, and that’s that.  I don’t even look at my hair, let alone brush it in between.  It’s short enough so that I just get out of bed, take a shower, and go about my life.  Not this week.  I’m stepping my game up.

As we continue, we learn that Jess will be treated to the pleasure of plucking my eyebrows.  I don’t have a hardcore unibrow or anything, just a few strays that show the world than I do in fact come from Italian descent.  Normally, I have no problem mowing those bad boys down with my shaver, but this being the special occasion that it is, I am going to let my future wife mercilessly rip them out of my flesh with a tweezer while I cry out in pain for my mother.  Yeah, I’m a total sissy about it.  She’s done it once before, just to see what it was like, and I thought I was going to die.  I don’t know how you chicks do that crap all the time.

And if all of that weren’t enough, I am fairly sure that I will be going to get a manicure next week.  In all fairness, I work in a warehouse and with heavy machinery, so my hands tend to take a beating, and can get pretty filthy.  Furthermore, my previous fingernail care regimen consisted of me clipping them once every week or so, and just waiting for the dirt under them to fall out.  Not to mention, my cuticles are a hot mess.  So, I’ll be spending a lovely block of time in the salon with wifey-to-be as she gets her mani-pedi on.  And I’m gonna sit there, read Us Weekly, and get my nails done like a man.   That’s right, I’m putting the “man” in manicure.

Now I know what you’re thinking.  You’re sitting there in your Spongebob pajamas, eating Cheetos, playing online chess against some kid in Denmark (who, by the way, just took your queen), and you’re thinking, “Wow, he’s not even married yet and he’s already whipped.”  Well in the words of Lee Corso, not so fast my friends.  I did not have to be coaxed into any of these decisions.  Matter of fact, I came up with two of the four on my very own.  The other two were mentioned in passing, and I took it upon myself to do them.  Well, except Jess bought me a tanning package, but not cause she’s making me go tanning, because she was there that day, and she loves me.  So try not to think too little of me.  I’m still a man.

By the way, tanning, haircut touch-ups, eyebrow plucking, and manicures … does it strike anyone else as being slightly ironic that the week leading up to my wedding will undoubtedly be the most homosexual week of my life?

One love,


Allow Me To Clear The Air

April 9, 2010

Aaaaand mark it.  Thursday, November 19th, 2009 was the day I posted this entry, in which I covered, among other things, a possible smoking ban in all casinos, bars, and truck stops in Grand Forks.  This led to a debate in the comments section between myself and a friend which concluded with me saying, “Are you going to be upset when you realize I’m right next year when North Dakota passes the same laws that Minnesota has?”

Well, fast forward six months.  Are you upset Bigsby?  Finally, finally, finally the smoking ban passed with a 4-3 vote in the city council.  Beginning August 15th, anyone who would like to smoke while at the bar will be asked to do so outside, at least 15 feet away from the entrances and exits.  Now I know this ban is going to piss off a lot of people, but count me among the many who think this is clearly for the better.  Granted, I haven’t exactly been spending a lot of time at the bar lately, but on the rare occasions when I do go, I can now go without having to submerse myself in bleach afterward.

I can spend time at the dollar blackjack tables at Southgate without having to shave my entire body and burn my clothes just to rid myself of the awful stench that had always followed me home before.  I can go have a beer and watch a game (two things I am far removed from right now) without holding my breath and inevitably needing two industrial sized tubs of Visine and a half dozen Tylenol to alleviate the itchy eyes and headache I always succumb to.  But most of all, I can go to the pool hall and enjoy the fresh air while I play.  This will be the one that has the biggest bearing on my life.  My pool league just got a hundred times better. You haven’t seen a smoke cloud until you’re on a five person pool team playing against another five person team, and you’re the only one of the ten people in that 200 square foot area not smoking.  No longer will I have to hop myself up on Benadryl just to avoid getting sick on league nights.

As expected, there seems to be a lot of apprehension about the law from business owners who fear that they are going to lose business over this deal.  Honestly, I don’t see it.  Every area business will be completely smoke free, therefore the playing field is still level, and you are not losing patrons to competing businesses who still allow smoking, as there will be none.  Bar owners, please listen to what I am about to say … People are not going to stop drinking just because they have to smoke outside.  Not in this town.  Not in a town whose college consistently ranks in the top two for highest binge drinking rates in the nation.  Not in a town that has almost nothing else to do BUT drink.  I mean come on, we don’t even have an Olive Garden or a Sonic here.  People will still come and get smashed.  And then they’ll go to Taco Bell because we don’t have a freakin Sonic.

If anything, I think this might evoke a slight upturn in business.  Sure, maybe business will slow briefly while people adjust to the new law, but eventually things will come back to normal.  Meanwhile, a night on the town just became that much more appealing to people like me who, for the most part, don’t mind being out, but don’t like it enough to deal with the smoking.  I think there are a lot of people like me who will be more likely to visit local establishments once the ban takes effect.

The only potentially negative thing that I see coming out of this is when winter rolls around.  I really am interested to see what comes of that.  There are going to be a lot of hard decisions made when it’s 40-below zero outside and you can’t light up inside.  Not like I care, really.  I mean, you (smokers) made your decision.  Now it comes down to how much it means to you.  If you’re stupid enough to risk frostbite for a few puffs, then be my guest.  On the other hand, if you can manage to go a few hours of your life without one, then you can stay warm with the rest of civilization.  The choice is yours.

Completely changing the subject, I realize that I haven’t exactly been “writing a lot lately,” and I know I don’t “meet any of your expectations.”  Maybe I’m not the most “efficient blogger,” and I’m not “pleasant to look at.”  I don’t “wear deodorant” and I can’t “see my feet sometimes.”  I can’t “tie my own shoes,” and I lack “the fundamental basics for human survival.”  Okay, in case you don’t know what the hell I’m referencing in this paragraph, please watch this video.

Anyway, I hope I’m being cut just a little slack since I’m getting married in three weeks.  I’ve actually been so busy over the past month or two, I had to start writing stuff down in a calendar.  What?  Stop laughing, I’m serious.  I’ve always been able to keep track of things quite well in my head, but let’s face it, it’s mostly because I barely ever had anything to do.  I hope this post gets you through the weekend though, because I’ll be attending a wedding Friday, I have a pool tournament Saturday, and I’m road tripping to Fargo to pick up my suit for the wedding (and watching whatever I can of the Masters) on Sunday.  And yes, all of those things are in my calendar … right next to my meetings with your mom.

One love,