The Wedding of the Year
July 2, 2007

On Saturday we went to the fanciest wedding that I've ever been to in my life--it was my cousin Kelly's. If you're a bride-to-be, I kindly suggest that you stop looking at these pictures right now--because chances are that you're not going to have a wedding half as nice as this one, and it will just make you sad and/or jealous. Everyone else....enjoy!

Here is a picture of my hair. This is the very best that my hair has ever looked. It took 65 minutes and 48 dollars to make it look that way. Oh, and a tip too. No wonder I'm usually quite happy to look homeless.










Here we are walking into the church. I hope you enjoy my shapely caboose and rock hard calves. Can you see James's crocs?












This is a picture of Jared and James playing at the reception. I realize that I failed to include any pictures of the ceremony. It was quite nice, you can take my word for it. Anyway, this blog is about me, not the happy couple!










Here are Jared and James on the dock. That's some scenery, huh? Views like this are the reason that a two bedroom ranch costs $450,000 on Cape Cod. I know that the Texans think those prices are insane, but that's fine--you're more than welcome to stay in Texas.








Here's James happily eating a shrimp. He's a New Englander at heart. I was so proud that James knew enough to take advantage of the free food--that's my boy!











You know you're at a fancy event when there are baskets full of free stuff in the bathroom. I was so relieved to find this little perk--I was able to give Kelly and Shawn a nice wedding gift after all--a basket full of assorted toiletries.









My sister thought that the extra-tiny-mini-screw-driver was the coolest item in the complimentary toiletry basket.











I disagree. I think it was the Vagisil. I mean if you're tearing it up on the dance floor and your vajango starts to feel like it's on fire, a mini-screw-driver isn't going to do you one bit of good. But this trial sized Vagisil will set you back in motion faster than you can say 'feminine itch.'

These cute little flower shaped thingies are butter, not white chocolate. I learned that lesson the hard way. Deceiving, huh?

This is an oyster with a lovely dollop of cocktail sauce. It's raw. I ate it shortly after taking this picture. It was so awesome that I ate three.

Ok, here's a picture of the happy couple--Kelly and Shawn.

Ok, that's enough of them...let's get back to me.

Here was my seat at the table. Fancy place settings, huh? Have you ever seen that many glasses on one table? Me neither. Jared and I had a Mormon soda fest. Oh, and every time someone got up, the waitress would run over to fold their napkin into a nice, neat rectangle. I was like "Move over Paris Hilton...Jessica just folded my napkin!"

And finally, here is a picture of my cousin eating some wedding cake. I've heard that brides like flattering candid shots, so I included it for her sake. My camera's got some zoom on it, huh?

Jared's Jackpot
June 29, 2007

We're here. We made it to New England in one piece. Well, everything except our stroller made it here in one piece. The friendly gate-check baggage man delivered the stroller to us with one hand, the handle with the other, and a big-ass grin on his ugly mug of a face. I was like, "Thanks." He was like, "No problem. And don't forget, we're not liable for broken strollers unless they're in their original packaging. Have a great night."

Now here's my question. Who brings their stroller to the airport in its original box? Is anybody out there seriously that anal? That totally defeats the purpose and convenience factor of the stroller contraption. Sure...let me just drag my feisty toddler and this box that's too big to fit in my trunk all around the airport. Grrr...

Anywho, the stroller incident combined with a motionless hour on the tarmac, no tables in the Chicago Midway Airport food court, and then another 60 minute delay have left me with an overflow of blog material. But the most bloggable moment of all goes to Jared, my sweet, sweet, Mormon husband.

Our second flight, from Chicago to Hartford, was a Southwest Airlines flight. In case you're not aware, there is no assigned seating on Southwest Airlines, and since we have a kid under five we were the very first people to board the aircraft. So we walked on to the empty plane and had our pick of about 400 seats. Jared chose a nice row towards the front of the plane, let James have the window and decided he'd like to sit in the aisle seat.

So Jared sits down, makes himself comfortable, and begins to sift through everything in the seat back pocket--passenger safety card, barf bag, Southwest Airline magazine, Maxim Magazine, and SkyMall. Jared casually glanced through everything pretending not to notice the fact that he had just hit every straight male's jackpot--a forgotten copy of Maxim with a picture of Ali Landry wearing wet tissue paper on the cover. He acted just as disinterested in that publication as he was in the barf bag.

In case you're not familiar with Maxim, the theme of the magazine is basically sex, beer, women and gadgets. In case you're not familiar with the Mormon religion, the theme of the faith is basically no sexy magazines, no beer, but gadgets are ok.

I picked up the magazine and began to flip through the pages. I was all, "Jared, are you sure you're not interested in this magazine? Whoa...look at that bikini! Gosh, I can't tell what her tattoo says. I wonder if those are real?" Jared just ignored me and was like, "Since you are sitting next to me Amy, I swear I'd rather read National Geographic."

I'm sure Jared cursed my very existence for every mile of that flight. But he's a good man. A good husband. A good Mormon...at least when his wife is around.

But seriously, hats off to Jared. Because you can bet your bottom dollar that if I had found a deep fried Snickers bar in my seat back pocket, that little piece of heaven would have been chewed up and swallowed in two second flat--and I wouldn't have cared who was watching.

Off to the airport...
June 28, 2007

Well, we're off to the airport. Hopefully I'll have something wonderful to share with everyone when I get to New England tomorrow.

Thanks again for reading my blog!

~Amy

Wedding Gifts
June 27, 2007

We're flying to Connecticut tomorrow afternoon. I know that flying with a toddler is a big deal to most families, but we're way past that point. Actually, I'm quite sure that James has been on an airplane at least ten times, and the child is barely two years old.

Don't get me wrong--I'm not casual about flying because my two year old is well behaved on airplanes, I've simply detached myself from the chaos. We get on the plane, we sit down and I'm like, "Ok James, we're on an airplane! Go ahead and rip every page out of the SkyMall Magazine and then kick that nice man's seat over, and over. Mommy took some Tylenol PM, so she's going to close her eyes now." Sorry folks, it works for me!

The flights ended up costing us close to twelve hundred dollars, and since you can't pay for airline tickets with WIC vouchers, we're totally broke. For that reason alone, my cousin Kelly will not be receiving a conventional wedding gift from the Lawson Family. I am, however, familiar with wedding etiquette and wouldn't dream of leaving Kelly and Shawn high and dry.

In honor of their sacred nuptials, we've decided to let the happy couple keep all of our wedding related purchases including one toddler tuxedo with a dashing pink bow tie (valued at $17.99) and one pair of control-top underpants purchased at SuperTarget (valued at $12.99).

We have also been practicing a touching duet that we plan to perform at the reception. We will be singing 'A Whole New World' from the movie Aladdin, acapella. And yes, the performance will be captured by the event's videographer.

The happy couple will also receive one 60 minute motivational speech delivered by yours truly. The speech, entitled Marriage: There's Nothing Wrong with Wanting Separate Rooms, is based on my 5 years of personal experience.

And finally, I am giving my beloved cousin the priceless opportunity to open the lines of communication with her soon-to-be mother-in-law. You see, Kelly, I never got around to RSVPing about the rehearsal dinner by that pesky June 15th deadline. So just go ahead, call Shawn's mom, and let her know that all three of us will be there.

Kelly is truly blessed to have me as her cousin, I realize that. You see, a $200 check would be cashed and quickly forgotten, but our gifts are the type of memories that easily last a lifetime.

FYI
June 26, 2007

Dear Sir or Madam:

My mother has expressed some serious concern with my previous post. She would like readers everywhere to know that my slobbish tendencies are not a direct result of her mothering or her housekeeping. God made me a messy person, and that's all there is to it. Just so you know:

My mother is not a hoarder or a pack-rat.

My mother does laundry every single morning at 5am (she will freely admit that she loves her 33-year-old Maytag more than she loves my father).

My mom often uses her valuable cell phone minutes to give me long distance pep-talks about dusting.

My mom cannot sleep if there's so much as a Q-Tip sitting in the bathroom trashcan.

Someday I would like to hire a cleaning lady and a laundry boy--my mother absolutely refuses to engage in that conversation.

And my mother washes the kitchen floor on her hands and knees, because she firmly believes that mops are unreliable.

My mom would also like my readers to I understand that I don't keep a totally messy house. The laundry is currently piled up to my boobers and my dog has dried up peanut butter all over her left elbow, but other than that, my apartment is clean. I only wish it were a pig-pen.

Sincerely,

Amy B. Lawson

**Mom--was that letter ok?