one more thing.

(If somewhere in the midst of this blog, my writing starts to sound like shameless promotion for my friends and their awesome idea, it's because that's exactly what it is. Deal with it.)

Of all the wedding advice I could've given you in Parts I and II, I cannot believe I may have forgotten the best one --

DO always look your best.

Before you say something ridiculous like, "Why does it matter? It's not my wedding!," let's get real -- once we enter adulthood, proms, homecoming dances and college formals are over. Unless you join an adult frat or manage to snag yourself a date to an adult frat party, which I've been known to do, the opportunities for dressing up, drinking for free and getting loose on a dance floor are really are limited.

So why wouldn't you want to look your best when the opportunity arises?

For ladies, the possibilities are truly endless - statement necklaces, asymmetrical hemlines, funky shoes - fashion may be the only reason I'm glad I'm a girl. So many pretty things to chose from!

For guys, it's not as easy. Suit. Shirt. Tie. Shoes. Bo-Ring.

That is, until now.

Much to my surprise and delight, I recently discovered that one of those pages I hastily "liked" on Facebook - Brackish Bow Ties - was actually the brainchild of my friend Ben.



For his wedding, Ben, an avid hunter and fisherman, decided to make custom bow ties out of turkey feathers for himself and his groomsmen. The bow ties created a buzz at the reception and people wanted to know how they could get one of their own.

If you've been around this blog for a while, you may remember that it was Ben who taught me how to smoke a cigar all those many months ago when I was still doing new things in preparation of my 30th birthday. Clearly he's classy guy. While I was at first surprised to find out he had created Brackish Bow Ties, I'm so impressed with his creativity and the product.

It's a bow tie made out of turkey feathers. What a uniquely awesome idea, and one I happily endorse.



Like pin stripes, from a distance the Brackish Bow Tie is neutral -- and looks like your ordinary bow tie. Up close, however, the bow tie is completely different from anything I've ever seen before. It's cool in a not-trying-to-be-cool kind of way.

Wouldn't you like something better to talk about at a wedding then your sucky job? And wouldn't you like to know that your bow tie is made by a person (one really nice, cool person named Ben whose wife just had a baby) and not in some sweat shop in a country you can't pronounce?

That's what I thought.

Check out Brackish Bow Ties here. Like them on Facebook here. Follow them on Twitter here. Read their hilarious blog, written by my friend Jeff, here.

Have a great weekend everyone. I'll be back next week to tell you about my girls' weekend in Athens. It. Was. Epic.

Day 223: Classing Up the Place

Back on the day that I ended up eating Krispy Kreme donuts hot off the line, my friend Tray invited me to a steak restaurant, Hal's, to smoke cigars with him and some of his buddies as the thing I’ve never done before.

I declined his offer for several reasons, but mainly because I wanted my Hal's experience to be just that--an experience. I wanted Filet Mignon, red wine, dessert, coffee, and, of course my very own cigar to enjoy following dinner. We’d sit in a candle lit, smoke-filled room with a big dark, wooden table and talk about our lives while puffing on stogies. Like a scene out of the Godfather, minus the Italian food.

Yes, that's exactly how I envisioned my first time smoking a cigar.

But if there is one thing that I've learned since starting this little project, it's that nothing ever happens quite as I planned it in my mind.

Weeks later, I found myself enjoying my last weekend of a two week vacation at my friend Lindsay’s 30th birthday bash on Folly Beach. She had managed to corral a large, spirited group willing to celebrate her milestone birthday with a weekend full of fun, debauchery and dance parties.

Among those who made the trip to Charleston was my brother’s old friend Ben. I’ve known Ben for a long time, but it had been a while since he and I'd seen him. He hadn’t changed a bit, though; he is still one of the nicest, most optimistic people I’ve ever met. He and his wife Mary Ann are such great people and so much fun.

At one point during our beach day, Ben announced he was headed back to the house and wanted to know if anyone needed anything. I had been contemplating how I was going to manage my need to use the bathroom, since I refused to reveal my sunburn for all to see by disrobing in front of the masses on the beach to use the world’s largest toilet, the ocean. So I hitched a ride with Ben back to the house to use the facilities.

That was all entirely too much information just to tell you that on our ride, Ben was, no surprise, a wave of positivity, talking about how much fun he was having, how there was still more fun ahead that evening, and how he’d hoped he and Trey, our other friend, would be cracking into some Cubans later.

Come again?

"Cubans," he said, seeing that I was confused about what he was talking about, "Cigars?"

"Oh, right, of course," I replied. Apparently the sun had fried my legs and my brain.

Ben went on as he opened the door to the beach house, "There's just something about a cigar that really classes a place up, you know?"

I laughed.

First of all, what a hilarious thing to say, and Ben said it with such conviction, I knew he believed what he was saying was the truth.

Secondly, we’d spent all day pounding domestic beers on the beach and the entire night before playing flip cup (did I mention this was a 30th birthday party?), so if ever there was a party in need of “classing up,” it was this one. I’m just not sure there were enough cigars in the world to pull it off.

But, if he’s got cigars and I’m in need of doing something that I’ve never done before (I know you’re not surprised that I’ve spent many a domestic beer drinking days on the beach and I’ve played quite a bit of flip cup before.), then maybe I should abandon my whole steak dinner, red wine, cigar fantasy and ask Ben if he would let me try one.

So I told him about the blog and he was happy to help, making Day 223’s thing I’ve never done before to smoke a cigar.

Later that night, after a positively glorious day on the beach, we continued Lindsay’s party back at the house with a cookout. And soon I was being summoned to the grill to partake in the cigar that Ben had promised me. He'd already lit it, and by the looks of the stubby thing, he'd already been smoking it for several hours.

He handed it to me, and I kind of held it awkwardly, staring at him for direction as to what to do next, as if I hadn’t ever seen anyone smoke a cigar before. Ben didn’t give me the instructions I was seeking, he just reminded me, as several people already had, not to inhale it.

I did as I was told, and took a couple of puffs, careful not to inhale the smoke. The end of the cigar was soggy, because apparently, as Ben and Trey demonstrated, smoking a cigar is really just chewing on the end of it, puffing it occasionally for effect and hooking it dramatically with your pointer finger to remove it from your mouth.

I expected to be disgusted by the taste, but I wasn’t at all. Because cigars, at least this one, didn’t really have much taste at all.

And as far as “classying up the place” goes, I didn’t feel classy at all. In fact, I felt kind of dirty. Maybe it’s that whole Monica Lewinsky thing?

After taking a few puffs on the cigar, I shared with the group, who all wanted to know what I thought, that I was underwhelmed. I handed the stogy back to Ben and went about the evening enjoying the birthday celebration well into the early morning.

The next morning, we had to clean the party house before packing up and heading home. I thanked Ben for being a part of the blog and as I took a load of trash to the dumpster, I heard Trey's husky voice calling out to me from the master bedroom.

"Hey Steph, did I make the blog?" he yelled.

Indeed, Trey, you did. You classy thing.