for when you don't know what else to say

Thursday, May 10, 2007

The Holding Pattern

I'm a prodigious planner. So a lot of the major details of the wedding are taken care of already. Scratch that. Pretty much all of the biggies. Now it's down to the smaller touches, and prep for the big day. To that end, I am putting myself through a boot camp of sorts. No, not one of those personal trainer things. Although I am living on Lean Cuisines and stepping things up at the gym. This boot camp is designed solely to prevent me from becoming a blubbering idiot during the ceremony.

How does one reverse a lifetime of sappy crying? It's rough. I am known to automatically cry at long distance ads, pretty much any show that ever has a sentimental character situations set to a musical montage, the song Downtown by Petula Clark, the schlocky film Titanic, concerts, personal injury or illness, etc. Most embarrassing thing I have ever cried to? That candy bar commercial set to the Cass Elliott song "Make Your Own Kind of Music" with the guy who wears a bunch of the candy bars as a toupee, and no one can bear to tell him what a loser he is, and he lives in this ridiculous dream world and in that crushing 30 seconds, you see him start to realize all is not well with him and then break down in his car, so while you're glad he's living in a delusion and he's brave to walk around the way he wants, you're like yikes. Yeah, I'm pathetic.

To combat my addiction to sobbing, I've been listening to select songs that make me tear up or outright bawl on repeat in my car. The hope is that with repeated exposure, I will steel myself against their sentimental charms and avoid crying all over the place on the wedding day. I am proud to announce that I am now completely immune to the charms of Etta James' At Last. I dare you to play it. I will not get that goofy look on my face and a wet sparkle in my eye. Not that we were going to play that anyway, but still. I'm working on self-control in sentimental situations, and I think it's working out.

Another silly pre-wedding task is trying to secure my future e-mail address. I fully intend to change my name, you see, so reserving an address that makes sense and isn't too dorky is a priority. Unfortunately, Gmail would like me to take on the nom de plume of a dermatologic superhero alter-ego as seen below.

Kristen.****** is not available, but the following usernames are:

I do strive daily to earn a clear complexion-focused moniker, but I don't think that quite captures me. And while "sharpright" does evoke the essence of my speeding, "Fall Guy"-worthy driving style, that doesn't work either. Oh well - back to the drawing board.


  • Downtown? Downtown!?

    Well, the lights are much brighter there.

    (Gee, hopefully I didn't get you all choked up just by quoting that line...)

    You do have a lovely glowing complexion though. So, yeah, I can see you as a super hero wielding a microdermabrasion wand. Clogged pores beware!

    By Blogger Cyn, at 10:01 AM  

  • Really helpful information, lots of thanks for your post.

    By Anonymous Elijah, at 1:29 PM  

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