Friday, January 28, 2011

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

My great grand little (GGL aka @lifegavemelimes) is getting married; ergo, I get to be a bridesmaid.  As you would be well aware if you kept current with her wedding blog, the bridesmaid dress situation is muy bueno considering we got to choose the dress that looked best on us to wear, even if it does mean that I have to cut off about a foot of fabric from this dress to make it the right length.  So in addition to everything else going on, I am now on a quest to achieve a tan and a sexy back, shoulders, and arms to make me make the dress look good .

In the meantime, though, there are the little wedding things that lead up to the big event, and the next one for me to attend is the Bridal Shower.  I do not know if you have ever been to a bridal shower, but they are far more happening than baby showers, rest assured.  First, the guest of honor is in no way prevented from drinking alcohol (always a plus).  Second, no one tries to make you play guess what this poop-like substance in the diaper actually is.  Further, as the name suggests, the Bride is Showered w/ gifts.  I am rather excited, as GGL (and I guess future Mr. Goodlaff) registered for a plethora of goodies that I get to go shopping for!  In addition, every so often the bride receives lingerie that she is forced to open in front of, and show off to, the entire group, which may or may not include elderly relatives who make classic off-handed comments revealing that they are either closet freaks or would be more comfortable in a burka.  Regardless, the awkward moment is worth every penny when you capture the bride-to-be's face of dread.  (Sex toys also produce this result, if not more so.)

Anywho... this shower also means that I will be heading up to NorCal to attend.  As I have been in PA for the past 3 years and my move back has consisted of me habitating only in SoCal as of yet, I have not had the chance to get up there to visit GGL in her home since leaving Reno.  And I have yet to even meet the future Mr. Goodlaff. (But, we are now friends on Facebook due to a glowing recommendation of me as a social networking compadre by GGL after I friend requested him.)  Needless to say, I am very excited to be attending in a few months.  Inasmuch that I spent an evening this week determining (and trying on) suitable ensembles to wear to such an event (which I thought I had down, but as I was writing this it struck me that Mid-March in the Tahoe-ish area is not really warm, per se...), as I have been informed that a hat will be required to accompany me.  A HAT!  Like one you would wear to afternoon tea, or a polo match, or the derby...so now i have to get a hat.  Now, this hat thing is all in good fun, because my GGL is like awesomely quirky in a good way and responded enthusiastically positive when I suggested I may wear the mad hatter hat I got at Disneyland one year.  But, I will leave that hat where it belongs, in one of my boxes in the storage locker and seek out an appropriate hat for the occasion.

To begin, I have discounted the ball caps and visors, as well as the various bucket hats and lifeguarding hats I have floating around.
I already have a Panama Hat that would do the job adequately.  Especially if I decided to channel Meyer Wolfshiem* for some reason.

But I see this as an opportunity to make a purchase.
I am drawn to a floppy straw hat because of it's possibility to be dressed up.
In addition, I can wear this to the beach when I want to look like an ingenue hiding behind the giant hat whilst lounging on the sand. 
But then, I realize it is not yet summer.  A cloche type hat may be more apropo.
Or even a beret.

So what do you think?  Stick with the classic, floppy straw number or embrace my inner french girl?

*GGL was an English major of some sort, she would understand the reference as should you, I hope, you graduated from High School, right?...otherwise, google it!
ALSO: What do you do with a B.A. in English? What is my life going to be? 4 years of college, and plenty of knowledge has earned me this useless degree...