My Dream Wedding

There’s really nothing scarier in life than revealing your innermost desires for your “Big Day.” Sure, I could share you a Pinterest Board of everything I want, but what fun would that be? I am going to spell it out to you- from the horse’s mouth… I might even make some horse noises if you’re lucky. So for any eligible suitors out there reading this post, if you want to marry me, here is what I expect in my ideal wedding.

The Ring: Needs to be from a vending machine at Taco Bell. I will not accept anything less, the Taco Bell part is important. I grew up waiting for meat tacos at Taco Bell and if I was LUCKY my mom would give me a quarter to buy a ring from the vending machine. The design of the ring doesn’t matter so much- but I will know if it’s authentic. Do not test me.

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The Venue: A VFW in rural Iowa, Idaho, Kansas, Nebraska… Somewhere where we can be as far as possible from civilization. Alternatively, I want it to be a dirty ramshackle barn, crucial that it’s not a ‘rustic’ barn… A real one with fresh manure and livestock milling around. Goats screaming like Usher, pigs rolling in their own feces, chickens freaking the fuck out over nothing… Guests will sit on rusty and breaking folding chairs, hay bales if we can find enough in the storage shed. No need for an alter or anything, we can just borrow a podium from the local high school’s speech team.

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(***person in this picture is also invited)

Service: There will be no service. We will skip right to the part where we ask if anyone objects, I have a feeling someone will object. Whether it be my 7th grade science teacher, Mr. Bale, or a scorned lover from a fling in Vegas, someone will disapprove. (Yes both of those people will be on the guest list.) We will start the discussion segment there and have a civil discourse about my life choices. Ultimately my father, Alex Nicholson, will decide whether or not we can proceed with the union. He will signal this by lighting a torch.

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Ring Bearer: Will be an untrained pig.

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Dress: I will find my mother’s wedding dress from storage (without her permission.) It is shrinkwrapped at the moment. I will unwrap it the day of the wedding and wear it as is. NO alterations. If my mother wore it I will wear it. If something rips then we can use clothespins and bedsheets.

Flowers: I’m cool with sending someone’s child into a field for some dandelions, dead dandelions, or just wildgrasses of whatever state we decide to have this in. Maybe we can scatter the feed of the livestock around so we might have a guest appearance from a cow, pig, goat, rats… Maybe we even open up the chicken coop and let them flood in. Idk, just spitballing here.

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Catering: Sloppy joes, walking tacos and deer meat. Those are the staples. If you are a vegetarian you can just eat the Doritos and lettuce from the walking tacos. We will also have a cookie table. The table will be full of just cookies, I repeat, cookies only. We will buy them from the local grocery chain and put them on a plastic plate. Yes, this does include every possible flavor of those frosted sugar cookies with the sprinkles on them. Yes the powdery ones that break apart all over you as you eat them. Yes, we will EVEN have the different holiday variations… Don’t ask me how we will get all of them but we will. Everyone will really love the cookie table. If I’m feeling spendy, I’ll potentially have Raising Cane’s cater. But if that’s the case I’d feel bad letting the chickens out of their coop.

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Cake: Would be great if someone whips up a Funfetti day of. I just want to be clear that the topper has both me and my husband on a tractor. I don’t know how to drive a tractor but so help me God I better be on a fucking tractor for my wedding cake topper.

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Photography: I am going to blow my entire budget on finding the actor who plays the photographer in 13 Reasons Why. I want him to be in character for the entire wedding. I don’t care how much it costs, he needs to be at my wedding. And everyone gets an autographed, shirtless, headshot of him.

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The Reception: We will have the reception under a white tent near a swamp. The swamp is crucial to the success of the reception. I need there to be insects, I love bugs. I want people to be swatting at them while they eat, perhaps there will even be dead insects in the sloppy joes. Idk, we can only ask for so much. Karaoke machine with only cassette tapes, 90% of the cassette tapes are nursery rhymes. Microphone will have a MASSIVE foam mouthpiece for comedic purposes only but also so that everyone has to feel the person before them’s spit.

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The DJ: I am going to wait outside a high school and see which dude rolls in with his music blaring the loudest. He will be my DJ, he is the most confident in his taste in music. Must play the Chicken Dance and Born In The USA.

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Alcohol: Open bar. Only beverage is bottom-shelf vodka and the only thing to mix it with is Koolaid. Don’t worry, we will mix the Koolaid ahead of time and might even offer a few different flavors, but probably you can expect mostly red and blue because that’s what I like best and this is my wedding.

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Bartender: He is a failed comedian who I found in Boise. I gave him free reign to use the bar as his stage, so you have to all listen to his jokes for the entire night. That’s the price you pay for free alcohol. Your laughter are his form of tips- he understands this agreement.

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Honeymoon: Wisconsin Dells. We are going to stay in a suite at the Wilderness Lodge and we are going to play in the waterpark all day every day. Sex takes a backseat to playing in the wave pool drunk. You will take me go karting at Mt. Olympus and we will dangle the fact that we have our driver’s license over the heads of our child/teen/preteen competitors. We will not let them win. I will get cotton candy. We will probably go to Noah’s Ark and I will call you a pussy for not wanting to ride the slide that some kid died on years ago. Then I will wait in line for it, get to the top, and chicken out but make a bunch of excuses about how I heard it making weird noises and how I totally cheated death.

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Insecurity Manifesto

On February 9th I remember feeling particularly horrible. It was one of those days where I didn’t necessarily know why I was so upset, but everything seemed to set me off. The biggest emotion I experienced was intense insecurity, just being incredibly unsatisfied with myself. I felt alone, afraid, and beaten down.

In the New Year I’ve tried to make it a priority to escape from these lows by finding strength within myself. I haven’t been great about that, I rely a lot on other people to help me out. It’s ok to depend on other people, but it’s essential to have a sense of stable security from within. On February 9th, I wrote up a “manifesto” of sorts to remind me of the things I wanted to change that were causing me to feel insecure.

I never planned on sharing this, but I’m feeling confident today. Very confident. I have worked on maybe 4 or 5 of the bullets on this list and I already notice progression in myself. While maybe this is a cheesy Seventeen-esque list, I figure if I can get some value out of it maybe someone else can too.

I have made progress with some of this, but there are several things on the list that I blatantly disregard on a daily basis. Change comes slowly but surely, and I’m optimistic. Oh did I really just say that? I feel optimistic? What a breath of fresh air!

Take a look at my list, and decide for yourself. You can follow mine, or you can make one for yourself. You don’t need to tell anyone, you don’t need to make any promises, just refer back to it once in a while to remind yourself what matters. Remind yourself what gets you to that negative place, put those reasons on your list and attack them.

Let’s fuck shit up, I say!

My Personal Insecurity Manifesto

  • I vow to communicate clearly and express my needs without fear
  • I vow to not invest time worrying about what people mean, but rather will listen to what they say
  • I vow to demand respect from a partner, sexual and romantic alike
  • I vow not to let the way a man treats me define how I go about my day and feel about myself
  • I vow to value myself and celebrate my strengths
  • I vow to stop calling myself an idiot when I make a mistake
  • I vow to stop apologizing when I’ve done nothing wrong
  • I vow to start taking the advice I would give to a best friend in my same situation
  • I vow to stop making exceptions for behavior that bothers me
  • I vow to stop placing my personal worth in the way others view me
  • I vow to stick to my priorities and quit shifting them to accommodate other people
  • I vow to recognize when I’m spreading myself too thin and make an effort to lighten the load in any way possible.
  • I vow to stop projecting my insecurities into my interactions with other people
  • I vow to acknowledge when I’m feeling lonely and learn to be okay with feeling that way
  • I vow to enjoy myself and be fully present when I’m with friends, not letting my mind drift to negative places
  • I vow to stop being so hard on myself when things don’t go the way I want them to
  • I vow to use my mistakes as learning experiences, rather than replaying them in my head over and over.
  • I vow to actually take action on my insecurity rather than pushing it aside
  • I vow to stop giving in to my vices to numb the pain I’m feeling
  • I vow to be patient when I slip up
  • I vow to make my self confidence a priority in my life

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I Almost Exploded//Got Burnt Alive

In honor of Fearless Friday, I am gonna go ahead and nominate myself. Because the world is out to get me and it’s Friday the 13th.

I don’t know how to put this lightly, but my car caught fire yesterday. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, I almost died. The mechanic who saw the burnt up fuse box inside the hood of my car told me I was “lucky to be alive.”

What can I say? One moment you’re sitting at a shitty valley Car Wash during your lunch break innocently texting your best friend about her farts and the next second you’re walking out of the office to move your street parked car. You see it from afar, realize the headlights are on for no reason and you are 100% fucked. You then maybe turn your car keys to try to start the car and it makes the desperate clicking sounds of a tired battery. At this point, you’re sweating because you wore inappropriate clothes for the Southern California climate… You realize you are a sheltered white girl from the Midwest. You realize you know nothing about car maintenance. You don’t even know how to spell maintenance without using spell check.

Luckily, I looked like a damsel in distress. Even though I was wearing an oversized men’s thermal shirt and Chuck Taylors. A vaguely attractive man in his mid-thirties pulls over in his massive white pick-up truck to help me jump my piece of shit car. He just so happens to be a professional electrician. This sounds like the start to a bad porno. Sorry to disappoint, he was a little too short and it didn’t go in that direction.

He put the jumper cables on my car, sparks flew up… He said my car smelled like shit. Good thing I can’t smell!?!?!?! He told me the battery isn’t the problem. In his professional electrician opinion, I was fucked.

Triple A showed up this morning at my place of work. (I have one of those now, I have a job.) This time they think THEY can jump start it. He opens the hood of the car.

“Wow, this smells like shit!”

Thanks bro. He asks me to have a sniff.

“I can’t smell. Uh, I… I don’t have one-” I offer

“Nah don’t worry it’s nothing crazy just stick your face down in there.”

“Sir, I was born without a sense of smell.” I reiterate

He laughs his ass off.

He fucks around with various car parts that I don’t recognize, eventually frees open what I now know as the “FUSE BOX.” It’s where all the electrical shit in your car goes down. When he opens it up, we quickly discover that part of it was burnt to a crisp. Literally fried the fuck up.

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(IMAGE OF THE INFAMOUS FUSE BOX)

“This shit caught fire!” He essentially says “You’re lucky the whole car didn’t explode.”

Am I lucky sir? Am I lucky that the entire car didn’t explode? Because part of me thinks the car should have exploded and left me with third degree burns… I’d be an unrecognizable husk of a person and I’d finally have to discover my “inner beauty” and stop living off the benefits of being a young attractive white woman. Maybe, sir, the car exploding would have been the best thing to ever happen to me.

So we’ve established that I’m lucky to be alive, my car is fucked, and neither Mediocre Looking Electrician Bystander nor Triple A Man can do a thing to help me. Time to get the Tow Truck Man.

Tow Truck Man has to disassemble my gear shifting mechanisms so that he can put the car into neutral to get it onto the tow truck and to the shop. Tow Truck Man caught me taking a picture of him for Snapchat and definitely thinks I’m into him. I must reek of pheromones.

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So I left my car in the care of a complete stranger who vowed to take it to the auto repair shop. I called the auto shop to see if they got my car, because I can’t go there because I am a WORKING CLASS CITIZEN. The men at the shop laughed their asses off and told me they’d need to do at least “15o dollars worth of labor to figure out what the fuck is wrong with it” and that they’ll have to “tear shit apart.”

I’ll tell you what, I just got settled into my new apartment on Wednesday. I never even SAW my apartment yesterday because I am trapped in the San Fernando Valley of Death and Despair. My cat thinks I’ve abandoned him. I have bruises all over my body from moving furniture (and various other extracurricular activities.) I look like a giant parasitic worm attached itself to my anus and is sucking out every cell of my shit covered soul, little by little, growing stronger with each bit of me it consumes. It continues to use that fecal power to destroy my life. IN ADDITION to eating my soul via my butt.

I’m just kidding. But I think it’s pretty hilarious that my car caught fire and I didn’t die. Big shout out to David Valbuena for rescuing me from the valley today. Still no word on my car repairs. But the good news is that my dad did some research and found out that there were some factory recalls because the Buick LaCrosse caught fire and killed people a few times. Might have been a good thing to know. I’ve been driving around a fucking ticking time bomb for the last 3 years. Glad that the lord himself and satan almighty chose Friday the 13th of 2016 to attempt murder. There is a GOOD CHANCE my car is UNSALVAGEABLE. Which is super convenient considering I spent a good chunk of change that I don’t have repairing it last month.

In summary, who wants to help me buy a new car? I’ll let you pet my poopy death worm.

 

 

Pope Francis and “Amoris Laetitia”

Didn’t expect myself to be choosing a Pope for Fearless Friday but here we are… As a disclaimer, my knowledge of the Catholic religion and structure of leadership is minimal. All I know is that the Pope is a big deal fella and the things he does impacts the religion worldwide.

Well, let’s talk about the “Amoris Laetitia” I guess it’s Latin for “The Joy of Love.” After two years of self-examination, earlier today the Pope released an important document outlining “family issues.” Catholics around the world filled out lengthy questionnaires to determine whether or not the Catholic church meets their families’ needs.

Pope Francis is a left leaning Catholic which gave religious liberals hope that he might start to shift antiquated beliefs to fit today’s society. One of my biggest criticisms of modern religion is that it never adapts; they’re still following a system of beliefs established in an old society. I would love to see a major religion address issues like birth control, same sex marriage, abortions etc… What precedent might this set? Will other religions be forced to do the same? At least we’re starting a conversation.

Though the document did not go so far as to address birth control or abortions, there are subtle victories within it.

One of the issues addressed in the document was the cessation of the phrase “living in sin” to describe irregular living situations. This is a big win!!! As someone who is currently “living in sin” with a boyfriend with whom I share a bed… Thank you. The Pope says in this document that the church needs to stop applying moral laws as if they were “stones to throw at a person’s life.” HELL YES!! Yet another issue I have with modern religion, addressed. I get that you have moral guidelines to live by, but please don’t force them upon me.

My next favorite part is that the Pope addresses SEX ED!!! He admits that children must be educated on sex and sexuality. Rather than simplifying it and withholding information he says that children need to understand sex “within the broader framework of an education for love and mutual self-giving.” Mutual self-giving. I like that. I mean, granted he doesn’t mention sex for pleasure… Or the fact that you won’t burn alive if you have sex before marriage. But hey, requiring sexual education would be a step in the right direction!!!

Of course, he didn’t go so far as to allow gay marriage within the church but he does call for Catholics to respect the LGBT community. The direct quote is that a homosexual person needs to be “respected in his or her dignity and treated with consideration, and ‘every sign of unjust discrimination’ is to be carefully avoided, particularly any form of aggression or violence.” It pisses me off that they won’t budge on this issue, but it’s only a matter of time. As frustrating as it is, this is a good start.

The major victory in this document is regarding the Catholic policy on disallowing divorced from receiving communion. According to the Catholic church, marriage is indissoluble… HAH! With a divorce rate in the U.S alone of 40-50% the chance of your marriage being “indissoluble” is up to the flip of a coin. The Pope opens the door for Catholics to use their “moral judgment” in specific situations, which isn’t anything EXPLICIT but take the dubble-ya (W) where you can, right?

While the document doesn’t go nearly as far as I wish it had (because my opinion matters), sometimes progress is slow to move. Especially when you’re following a set of beliefs written a comically long time ago. Pope Francis is dealing with extremely touchy subjects that define the religion as it stands. If there is hope for change, it lies with him. It will move slow, but change is starting.

So is he really fearless? Even though the document hides from making controversial statements? Yes. The document’s theme is an important one: Acceptance. Our lives can’t be defined by rules written in black and white. You can never REALLY understand another person’s situation, ruling with rigidity on all issues isn’t realistic.

Fuck yeah Pope Francis, you’re fearless for being a reasonable human being!

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“I’m the freakin’ Pope”