wedding tour, part two.

The second stop on Wedding Tour 2012 happened just one week after my trip to Santa Rosa for Emily's pre-wedding festivities. Maribeth and Scott's celebration at the Solarium in Decatur was a great time - it has also provided me another opportunity to bestow upon you more unsolicited advice about how to hit the wedding circuit in style.

So here we are, Wedding DO's and DON'Ts from a self-proclaimed professional, Volume II.

DO get married at the beach with just your immediate family and then have a party one month later to celebrate the nuptials, a la Maribeth and Scott.



Two parties means two opportunities to wear your beautiful dress. DO it.

DO take advantage of what professional photographer's call the "Golden Hour" -- the last hour of sunlight that provides optimum lighting conditions for pictures.





DON'T expect anyone else to care about the "Golden Hour."



DON'T underestimate the power of a spray tan.



DO admire the band's singer's sequined cityscape vest. DO NOT touch it without his permission.



DO make sure the bride has her own tambourine.



DO make a dance circle with your girlfriends when the band plays Journey. It's super cliche and dorky, but I'm pretty sure it's un-American not to.



DO Roll on the River. Trish can show you how.



DO make new friends.



But definitely DO keep the old.






When you fear the wedding might be winding down, DO make plans to go somewhere afterwards. Once you arrive there, DON'T let anyone but your friends use the jukebox.



DO cheer loudly when a new person arrives to the after-party. And if the spirit moves you, welcome him with hugs.




And whatever you do, DON'T stop taking pictures until the very end.









I am so happy for you, Maribeth and Scott! Congratulations!

Day 255: Everyone Deserves Music

Day 255's thing I'd never done before was to see Blitzen Trapper and the Moondoggies at the Variety Playhouse.

That FF invited me to the concert was a relief on many levels. I said, "Yes," immediately, pleased that seeing live music was on his list of "likes."

We hadn't yet had the inevitable, "Defining your relationship with Nickelback," conversation either, and so I still wasn't sure if I was willing to take this relationship any further. His invitation to a concert gave me a perfect segue to talk about music.

Plus, I'd tapped into the fact that he was willing to leave his own neighborhood for the wilder side that is Little 5 Points, a trait that some of the other guys I've dated haven't always been so willing to do.

Before we went to the concert, I did some investigating on the band, and discovered that they're really cool.

So cool, in fact, that I wasn't the only person I knew with plans to see them that night. I ran into several friends, including my ex-boyfriend, that I hadn't expected to see. My complete shock and subsequent anxiety about these sightings was, now that I think about it, ridiculous. My friends like live music; of course they would be there! But still, I usually wait until much later for my world's collide, but here they were colliding, without my control, right at the Variety Playhouse.

I handled this unexpected run-in with all the grace and class of a bull in a china shop, vigorously drinking canned Pabst Blue Ribbons to quell my nerves and making hasty introductions and even hastier conversations with wild hand motions for the next couple of hours.

I later apologized to FF and explained why I was acting weirdly. He shrugged it off, and added, "Oh I wondered why it looked like you ran full speed into a screen door when we approached the stage."

Like I said, graceful.

But at least the bands were great. They really were. I think.

Day 87: Chex Yo Self

By the time Christmas week had rolled around, I had O.D.’ed on holiday sweets, thanks to a constant flow of cookies, cakes and fudge at work. I'm not even counting the fabulous recipes I had tried out for the first time. My waistline was expanding, and I was getting a little sick of the sweets, when another food challenge came to me by way of my friend Bug (real name: Jennifer).

Bug and I had been trying to get together before the holidays and I suggested a Wednesday night dinner. She said fine, but said that was also the night she and her mom (Susan) were going to be making Chex Mix for their neighbors and friends. I had never made Chex Mix from scratch, so I asked if I could join in their family tradition and make that Day 87's thing I've never done before.

They said sure.

So I went. For dinner and some Chex Mix. Which actually ended up being more like Chex Mix with some dinner, because the second I arrived there I started eating some of the mix that Susan had already made. Apparently the sweets hadn’t completely filled me up.

I wasn’t the only one, either. In between games on the Wii, Bug’s husband, Sean and her brother, Scott (also good friends of mine) would take frequent timeouts, grab a handful of Chex Mix and then head back to play more. Did I mention we’re all grown adults, not 8-year olds? We were childlike, almost, spoiling our dinner with Chex Mix.

While waiting for dinner to cook, Susan gave me a crash course in Chex Mix preparation, going first to the corner of the kitchen where she pulled out a large white trash can filled more than half way full of already mixed Chex cereal (corn, wheat, and rice), Cheerios, pretzels, and several kinds of nuts.

I like Susan's style. It reminds me of something my own mother would do. My mom cuts pizza with scissors. She would be in favor of mixing an obscene amount of Chex Mix in a trash can.

I wanted to dive into that trash can, but I refrained.

Bug brought out Christmas hats while Susan brought out a pan and a few simple ingredients, including butter, Worcestershire sauce, some garlic and onion powder. Again, just like my own mom would, Susan casually threw some ingredients into the pan. She instructed me to pick up the Worcestershire sauce and pour it in.

"How much?" I asked, as I started pouring, concerned there was no measuring.

"That's enough," she replied.

At what age do women who cook stop using recipes and measuring cups. Is that an age thing? Is that what happens when I turn 30? Is that when I'll just "know" how much onion powder to throw in there?

After all of the butter mixture was put together, we went to the trash can and scooped out several cups of the mix and threw it in the pan. Susan told me to stir the Chex mix with the butter mixture.

"And that's it," she said. "Now we put it into the oven for 15 minutes, take it out and stir it again. For an hour."

Chex Mix is easy! Time consuming, but easy.

For one hour, I monitored the timer closely and took out the pan to stir the mixture. My diligence completely paid off because when it was done, it was awesome.

Though not easy for her to do since she normally just makes the mix from memory, Susan managed to write down her recipe for me to take home. After a few glasses of wine, I showed my thanks with a Sharpie, decorating Susan's Chex Mix trash can, hence the name of this blog.

I think of all the holiday treats I have sampled and made myself, Chex Mix might be my favorite. They sell bagged Chex Mix in the grocery store year-round, so must I wait until next Christmas to make this again?

I don't think I can.