David’s Bridal=taffeta and organza hell

Every couple of years, I get into wedding season, and I think this summer-fall is going to be the next one. I have three weddings that I’m invited to, though not entirely sure whether I’ll be going to all three. One is a big one, my sister’s. Last weekend included a three-hour bus trip home that turned into six because of the snow, a trip to David’s Bridal (what I like to call the Wal-Mart of wedding shops), a meeting with a florist, a trip to two bakeries to inquire about wedding cakes, and a stakeout of the reception hall.

The trip to David’s Bridal was an interesting one. We had an “appointment” at noon but didn’t get an associate until 12:30. There were only two dresses my sister wanted to try on, so the associate got them for us, as well as a veil and some various accessories she needed, but was pretty much MIA after that because she was also helping two or three other brides/bridesmaids at the same time. She checked on us occasionally, but I was the one pulling the satin and tulle over my sister’s head, trying to gauge the size, and fixing the back of the dress (which I’m going to be doing about a million times on the wedding day). Much to our surprise, she actually found one she liked amid the sea of bedazzled ruffles and bows, a simple one that was the least David’s Bridal-y. Thank God my bridesmaid dress is from J Crew. I don’t think I can handle wearing any of the seafoam green/fushia/pale blue mess I saw in there. And don’t let them fool you into looking at their “separates” line, where you mix and match tops and bottoms. That just doubles the bridesmaid fugliness into two pieces instead of one.

Anyway, the price and the simplicity of the dress is really what sold us on it. Not too often can you get the dress and veil for less than $500-$600 bucks. So throughout the course of the wedding, my sister—who initially had said she wanted to just show up at the ceremony in a rent-a-dress just for the photos—is going to change three times: once in her wedding dress, once in traditional Korean dress, and probably once more into a more casual J Crew wedding dress she bought on sale for the dancing.

Speaking of traditional Korean dress, I caught a random ABC sitcom called “In Case of Emergency” that starts Jonathan Silverman and Kelly Hu, a Chinese actress playing a Korean woman. From what I can gather, it’s about a bunch of housemates, and Jonathan Silverman’s character is in love with Kelly. (In the tradition of movies/shows with Asian actors, the Asian character’s name is the actor’s real-life name, like how Jackie Chan is always Jackie in his movies.) Anyway, in the show she pretends to be married to please her strict Korean parents who are in town, and they demand she have a traditional Korean wedding. As part of this traditional Korean wedding, the groom is supposed to present the bride with a live goose. Now, from what I could tell, the Korean garb and overall setup of the Korean ceremony looked close to authentic, but I’ve never heard of this goose business. It sounds like a Hollywood setup to me. Or maybe the writers did a lot of deep research and this is so authentic I’ve never heard of it.

Anyway, my other strange Korean-wedding-related media encounter in the past two days was a NYT article my coworker sent me on the troubles that can occur in a Korean wedding when the in-laws aren’t pleased with the gifts to/from their son or daughter-in-law to be. According to this article, the gifts can make or break future relations with the in-laws. The dowry especially is deemed important. Hmm. The only dowry my future husband is getting is maybe my mom’s homemade kimchee for life. Otherwise, all he’s inheriting is my debt.

On an aside, this article follows another article about Korean men joining dating services to find Vietnamese brides, by the same writer, and is part of a trend I’ve noticed over the past few years of articles that like to study the various eccentricities—or at least what seems eccentric to mainstream Americans—of Korean culture like some sort of cultural anthropology. The New York Times seems especially interested in its observations of Korean culture. Or, as the subject line in my coworker’s email to me reads: “Mainstream media continues to report Korean dirty laundry.”

Go air your own dirty laundry, New York Times! I know you’ve probably got a few more Jayson Blairs embedded somewhere in there. Harrumph.

Heart attack on a bun, anyone?

The Krispy Kreme burger is slowly making it’s way across the country. I think I’d read that some form of it had appeared in a minor league ballpark a few years back. It’s now made its way into Google’s New York cafeteria (which I’ve seen before, and it rocks). I’m equal parts disgusted and craving it right now as I write.

The Krispy Kreme burger just reminds me of how badly I eat when I’m stressed. Hell week is now officially over, but I’m left with the aftermath of my poor stressed-out eating. Here’s what made it into my diet over the past week or so:

• At least six slices of pizza
• Chex mix
• Hint of Lime Tostitos
• Several Entemann’s donuts
• Korean fried chicken
• Coke, non-diet
• Several pieces of fresh mozzarella
• Leftover pad thai
• Tons of Starbucks
• A few Samoas and a Tagalong (it’s Girl Scout Cookie season)

And so, so much more that I’m probably not remembering right now. Oh well, at least it wasn’t a whole row of Oreos. My coworker ate that. Seriously. Just thinking of the film the artificial vanilla filling leaves on your tongue is making me feel greasy right now.

So to recover from my stressed out eating (which left a grease-induced roadmap on my face) my dinner was but a mere bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats and a bite of fresh mozzarella. Though what I really want right now is a Big Mac (I used to be able to eat 2 when I was in elementary school). Grr. I think it’s time for a cold shower.

Are you a cubicle slave?

Okay, I'm breaking one of the number-one rules of blogging, which is never blog from work. But I'm in the office at 10 pm on a Sunday evening, going crazy from writing on deadline about stuff I really could give two shits about right now, all while not getting paid what I'm worth, so I think I'll cut myself some slack. I need a quick concentration break. Here goes:

Signs you're becoming a cubicle slave (and yes, I've done all of these):

--You've put your head down in your cube for a quick (quick=hour-long) nap while working on a weekend.
--You've gone through an iTunes playlist at least three times while working on a weekend.
--You've run into several other cubicle slaves in the office and wonder what the hell these workaholic freaks could be so busy with that they're working on a weekend.
--You ate breakfast, lunch and dinner at your cube while working on a weekend.
--It was daylight outside and now it's pitch black while you're working on a weekend.
--By the time you get home, you realize you have to wake up in a few hours to go back to work, after working on a weekend.
--You are rueing all the time you wasted at work during the week checking e-mail and surfing the Web so you would not have to work on a weekend.
--You are working for some strange corporate entity whose name smacks of some secret evil enterprise, like Dr. Evil's in Austin Power, and on the weekend, no less.
--You are working on a weekend, period. And on the first spring-like weekend of the season.

This sucks ass big time! Grrr.