I'm so Bored that I went to a wedding

Today, I went to a wedding.

Obviously, I did not actually go because I was Bored. I went because I was invited, and because weddings in general are awesome.

Weddings, however, do provide a great escape from Boredom if you are ever Bored.

So, I have compiled a list of:

Reasons Why You Should Become a Wedding Crasher (a.k.a Why I Love Weddings)

1. Old/middle-aged ladies

Old and middle-aged ladies at weddings are among the most fun people in the universe. They're the ones who sit behind you and ask if the groomsmen are married.

"Let's GET 'IM!"

They're the ones that tell you funny stories about their weddings, and they're the best dancers at the reception (after a few trips to the open bar).

2. Little kids

My friend Samma is prone to crying at how cute and precious children are, so I wish she could have been at the wedding I went to today.

The ringbearer was a toddler, a little boy who was carried up the aisle by a bridesmaid.

The ring-bearer-bearer bore the ring-bearer

The ringbearer did not want to be carried, apparently, and asked loudly to be put down before he was carried up the aisle. This request was refused, quite understandably.

When he reached the front of the church, he threw himself into his dad's arms and yelled "HI, DADDY!" loud enough for everyone to hear.

Everyone laughed, including the groom, which leads me to #3:

3. The groom

Ever since I watched 27 Dresses for the first time, I have been taking the main characters' advice and watching the groom's face at every wedding.

Both of the main characters in that movie actually give their own opinions about looking at the groom:


Jane said:

"You know how the bride makes her entrance and everybody turns to look at her? That’s when I look at the groom. Cause his face says it all you know? The pure love there."  

And Kevin said:

"When the bride comes in and she makes her giant grand entrance, I like to glance back at the poor bastard getting married. Cause even though I think he’s an idiot for willingly entering into the last legal form of slavery, he always looks really, really happy."

And after all that talk about slavery, they still ended up married...

I'm gonna go with Jane's explanation.

4. Food

Only at weddings can you eat a whole platter of Havarti cheese, steak and potatoes, and macaroni and cheese with lobster chunks in it and then not have anyone look at you weird when you go back for seconds and a coke float.

Your stomach might judge you, but nobody else will.

5. Bouquets

If you really love reasons 1-4, get in the front of the bouquet line and catch it, so that you can throw your own spectacular wedding.

If, because you are insane or inept, you don't care about old people, babies, true love, and food, then stay far away from the bouquet and leave it for me, because I want to have a Havarti-eating party wedding of my own.

I'm so Bored that I decided to become a pirate

In case any of you don't know me (STRANGERS! RUUUUUN!!!), I had cancer when I was 9.

For all of you imagining that I looked like this:

I have leukemia! That's the only type of childhood cancer, right?*

I usually actually looked more like this:

I wore a Gryffindor bucket hat every single day - not even kidding

And I still got called a boy.

"Did the little boy fall off his bike?"

Also, completely as a side note, contrary to popular belief television

Because chemotherapy apparently magically attacks only the top of your head...let's hope you have brain cancer!

You do not usually get to keep your eyebrows and eyelashes during chemo, which you only really notice once they start growing back in.

Help! My face is being attacked by squirrels and caterpillars!

Anyway, because my cancer was in my right leg, I ended up having 10 surgeries on that leg when I was younger.

Because I broke my prosthesis (and never really figured out how to use my leg post-surgery anyway...) I just decided last week that I'm going to amputate my leg this summer.

I'm thinking that maybe I should have rephrased that last sentence...

Everybody seems to have a different idea of what this means for my life after surgery.

What I look like now:

Those are crutches, for anyone who can't decipher my pictures...

What I'll probably look like right after surgery:

The tie-dye is a hallucination...Narcotics** are FUN!

What my mom thinks I'll look like right after surgery:

She's pretty smart, that mom of mine

What my friends think I'll look like right after surgery:

Um...I'm getting a prosthetic leg, y'all...***

What Awesome Guy says I'll look like after surgery:

Meta-meme-joke ... Sorry, I couldn't resist!

What my prosthetist admits (relunctantly) is possible:

"I just climbed Everest. What now, B****es?"

How I'm planning on dressing to go through airport security for the rest of my life:

Um, but as a girl (and with my right hand still intact) - I couldn't find a picture (same goes for the previous photo)

Being a pirate has several advantages:

1. I will finally have the perfect excuse to get a parrot!

2. Wooden peg legs will not set off the metal detector.

3. I can stick my C-leg in my carry-on luggage. When security looks startled, I can say: "Aaaargh! That's me first matey's leg. He burnt the toast this morning!" or "Well, shiver me timbers! Ye found me leg!"

And, lastly:

4. I can freak out the other passengers, especially when I take my peg-leg off mid-flight...

Avast, mateys! I'm off to feed my parrot.

*Note: I have nothing against leukemia patients. I have tons of friends who are survivors of that dreadful disease. I'm simply tired of people asking me about it, or saying things like "At least you didn't have leukemia!" If you are somebody that would ever say something like that, please go google "osteosarcoma" and then get back to me. 


**Only legally prescribed and properly used prescription narcotics are allowed to be fun


***Believe it or not, I have had people ask whether I'm getting a prosthetic leg...

****This was not meant to refer to a footnote, genius!

I'm so Bored that I watched Desperate Housewives

School is finally out for summer (FOR EVER! jk, not really), and consequently I've had a lot more spare time on my hands.

So I've become quite popular with all the time beggars

In all seriousness, though, I've been Bored out of my mind. (Inside my mind, I'm an elf ... don't ask.)

I mean, what am I supposed to do without organic chemistry looming over me to look forward to every day?

Dance! That's what!

Unfortunately, I haven't even had anything worthy of a blog post in a while, because I've actually been incredibly Bored (In case you haven't noticed, most of my supposed "Boredom" activities were actually done while on vacation far away from this realm ... please don't tell the king!)

Anyway, while in Boredom, I've been watching a bunch of television (to Samma: Yes, this explains your 'recent activity' on Hulu - please don't judge me!) In the past week, I have watched nearly an entire season of (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't judge me!) Desperate Housewives, and I feel that it is time for a rant.

I'm going to forget for a minute that there is not a single actually decent person on that show, that nearly everyone on the show has either directly killed someone or been part of a conspiracy involving death, and that nobody in modern times is that friendly with their neighbors. I'm also going to forget that all of this is supposed to happen on one street, and that, far from just being friendly with their neighbors, these people don't seem to have lives apart from Wisteria Lane.

"I've fallen in love with multiple psychopaths by the end of the second season!"

No, today I'm just going to complain about the title of the show: "Desperate Housewives." The first word makes perfect sense. If you've never seen the show, just look at the picture of Bree I posted above. These women are definitely desperate almost all of the time. What I don't get is how they are all supposedly housewives.

Dictionary.com has 2 definitions for the noun form of the word "housewife." (There is also an archaic verb form which basically means "to be a housewife.")

The first definition is "a married woman who manages her own household, especially as her principal occupation."

And who apparently is very fond of milk...

The second definition is uniquely British: "a sewing box; a small case or box for needles, thread, etc."

I'm going to assume for now that this show was not meant to be about desperate sewing boxes, and focus on the first definition. 

To fit this first definition, the protagonists of the show must, first and foremost, be married women. You cannot be a housewife without being a wife.

However, when the show starts, one of the four main protagonists is already divorced.

"And I'm an author, not a homemaker"

In fact, throughout the next three seasons, the only one of the four main "housewives" to remain married the entire time is Lynette Scavo, and she has a job outside the house most of the time.

"And even I get divorced for about 10 minutes in the 8th season."

In the episode I'm currently watching, they are all married (a rare occasion on this show), but 2 of them have been divorced once and every single one of them is destined for a future divorce. Also, only two of them actually run the home as their primary occupation.

So, why on Earth wasn't this show called something like "The Wacky Women of Wisteria"? I'm sorry, ABC, but you really need a dictionary.

Also, as a final note, using deceased neighbors as narrators - creepy.

I'm kinda glad that this series concluded earlier this month. With it gone, though, I'm gonna need some ideas for hobbies in Boredom.

Any ideas?