You are. And that is enough.
This weekend was pretty crazy and definitely busy. There was a pizza party with games, hiking, dancing, brunch, soccer (I scored my fourth goal in almost four years!) and spending a bunch of quality time with friends and family. Oh yeah, and there was a wedding, too.
April 26th will now and forever commemorate the marriage between my little brother Justin Bakken and Molly Moilanen. Congratulations, guys. Love you both.
I was at a friend’s wedding on Saturday and they were in the midst of “The Dollar Dance.” For those of you unfamiliar with the tradition, the bridal couple splits up and wedding attendees can pay a dollar to dance with one of them for a certain amount of time. If you don’t mind a slow dance that lasts for 45 seconds and costs you a buck, it’s a lot of fun. As for the newly-married couple, all those dollars help pay for… whatever. Maybe some tequila shots during their honeymoon in Mexico, I don’t know.
The reason I bring this up is because the best man (accepting money for the bride) was letting people dance way too long. Like, a minute or something. (Okay, fine, I wasn’t using a stopwatch to check, but he definitely needed to hurry things up—there was a pretty long line forming behind us.) If you’re in a similar situation and want to help out, I suggest you follow the example of my cousin, my little brother, his girlfriend and me:
We all handed the best man a dollar each. It’s only fair—one of them might have a strong tolerance for tequila. When it was our turn, we walked up as a group and did a little “Ring Around the Rosies” action while she spun around in the middle. Then we all squeezed in together for a bridal wrap—it would have been a bridal sandwich, but there were four of us surrounding her—and rocked around in a “slow dance” for about ten seconds. Then it was hugs for everyone and we left the dance floor, watching the rest of the line slowly creep forward, each person hoping that the DJ wouldn’t run out of slow music before they all got their turn.
Oh, and one final note for safety’s sake: if your friend is the bride and you’ve only met her new husband twice, you better leave the groom wrap to someone else. If not, the emotional trauma he suffers could lead to so many tequila shots that we all fall down.
Or, if you’re slightly more religious, “Happy Anniversary of the Day When That Jesus Dude Came Back to Life!”
I was at work yesterday (Feb. 14th, Valentines Day, Day of Tears and Lonely Misery, etc.). A couple minutes after I got there, one of the higher-ups was walking through the cubicle areas and handing out roses. To the women. From the boss. Continue reading “One for you and one for me”
I was watching TV at a friend’s place when the ball in New York Square was dropping. (Technically, I was watching it an hour later during a not-so-live TV presentation, but you get the idea.) Five seconds before it landed, my friend yelled out that everyone should lift their left leg, so we all stood stork-like in his living room, counting down until it became 2008.
A new year was upon us, at which point he explained that everyone had started the year off on the right foot. I hope you all did the same. Except maybe without looking like a bird holding a glass of sparkling apple cider.
I was shuffling through a pile of paper at work and came upon some random fax machine cover sheet. To commemorate the last few hours before my 31st birthday, I spent about five minutes folding it into an airplane, wrote “RECYCLE ME!” on the wings, then tossed it over the wall and into the next cubicle. And then I spent about five minutes trying to control a case of the giggle fits. Today was a good day…
