Sicky Shower Saga 

Word. I am sick. You remember that winter cold that went around, the one that I bragged about not having caught? Yeah. Well, I caught it. Or, it caught me. Either way, the cold is Tom Hanks and I’m Leo DiCaprio. Except I never forged any checks and no one has asked me to work for the government.

Saturday marked Heather’s wedding shower at Stover Mancha. It went well, despite my poor efforts to hide my sore throat and sinus headache. Heather received many gifts for her and David’s new house. For example: knives, glasses and some weird Hawaiian towel that David scanned on their Target registry. Also on their registry was a South Park DVD, but no one got them that. During gift time I learned that there is a shower tradition which firmly states: “The amount of ribbons you break while opening your gifts corresponds directly to how many children you will have.” Furthermore, someone has to take all of said ribbons, put them on a paper plate in a bouquet fashion, and save said paper-plate ribbon bouquet for the bride to use during the wedding rehearsal. I was proud to be in charge of the paper-plate ribbon bouquet. Heather would open a gift, hand me a ribbon, and then:

Auntie Whoever: Take the bow and put it in the center.
(Heather hands me another ribbon.)
Someone’s Mom: Drape those through the center and let them hang down.
(Another bow.)
A Family Friend: (makes a weird hand motion) Jessica, you should do it like this.
(And, another bow.)
Some Lady: You should have waited until you had them all and then done it.
Internal Monologue: Why is everyone bossing me around? Do you think I am too young or stupid to put together a wedding bouquet? I have mad crafty skills, and soon you all will bask in my awesomeness! Dang, my throat hurts.

After finishing the bouquet, I set it by the cake. I later spied Bridget looking at it with disdain. I’m sure she fixed it her way once she got home.

We also played toilet-paper wedding dress. This is the only cool wedding shower game. Directions: Split up into teams in different rooms and pick a model. Each team has ten minutes to use six rolls of toilet paper to create a wedding dress on their model. C.Sto, Michelle and I immediately formed a team. (The Stover Sisters always work together, and win together. And Mish rules.) Next, we recruited Heather’s 10-year-old niece to be our mini-model. Our dress was totally toilet-paper couture and we dominated the game. The dress was halter style with a long train, detachable bustle, rose detailed veil, bouquet of roses and corset-style tied back. We won a door prize and pissed off Bridget, because she hates it when I dominate at everything. (Which is all the time.)

Heather doesn’t believe in other weddings shower games, because they all suck, so I prepared a little something else. Using my handy production/on-camera skills, I grabbed the groom and made a surprise Newlywed Game home video. Heather had to try and match David’s answers. Heather nailed everything from David’s Final Fantasy player name (Lord David) to his favorite body building pose. (The one with one hand behind your head and one outstretched. Probably called something hard-core, such as: One Hand Superman Muscle Fly Flex. Or something.) The tape was a hit. Everyone laughed and I felt good even though I felt bad. (I’m sick, remember?)

So, after the video and my toilet-paper-wedding-gown victory, I think I have proved my creative/crafty skills. No one better doubt my paper-plate ribbon bouquet making ability ever again. Dammit. I am a hella good bridesmaid.

But wait, someone does not agree...

After the games, C.Sto and I got our hands on the Bridal Shower Book, (brought by bridesmaid Bridget,) to write our “advice” in the “advice section.” Heather’s family, friends and co-workers had written marriage advice such as:

“Go on one date a month.”
“Always remember to say I love you.”
“One house, one heart, one bank account.”

That advice isn’t bad, but C.Sto and I had something more practical in mind:

C.Sto’s Advice: Name all of your kids after Disney characters.
Jessica’s Advice: Always address David as “Lord David” so that he knows you respect his Final Fantasy addiction and other nerd hobbies. Then, ask him to call you “Queen Heather,” because Queens totally outrank Lords and then you’ll be in charge.

At this point, Michelle was preparing to write her witty advice, when C.Sto leaned over and whispered:
C.Sto: Woooshiiekkjhio.
Jessica: What?
C.Sto: Uh, I forgot.
C.Sto: OK, Bridget was just giving you a dirty look. Then she saw me telling you. I think she’s getting pissed.
(Bridget approaches, causes Michelle to hesitate)
Bridget: What did you guys write in there? Are you ruining her book?
Jessica: No. We merely wrote our advice. Our practical, wonderful wedding advice.
Bridget: Yeah right. It’s supposed to be nice.
Jessica: It is. And it’s for Heather. Something personal and wonderful just for Heather. The Bride.
(Bridget stalks off)
Michelle: I’m afraid to write anything.
Jessica: Don’t let Bridget the advice Nazi scare you. What you were going to write was good and Heather will like it.

Next, we conspired to write:
Matilda Jenkins’ Advice: Don’t forget you’re married and kiss another guy.


Family Member: (laughing) Who’s Matilda Jenkins?
Bridget: Let me see that! (grabs Bridal Shower Book) …That’s no one. This book is supposed to be nice but some people can’t take it seriously and they ruin it all!
Jessica: I didn’t meet Matilda. Is she one of Heather’s co-workers?
Bridget: Shut up. I know you wrote it.

Whatever. That is practical advice. Plus, C.Sto and I have never been married, so what would we have to say about marriage? It’s too late to write, “never get married.” And I think Heather and David should get married, and it’s too late to write that, too.


Heather picks up the book. Reads mushy sweet advice from family and friends.
Heather: Awwww… (reading… reading…cracks up) Ha-ha! C.Sto, that’s awesome. (laughs again) Wait, who’s Matilda Jenkins? Is that Michelle?
Michelle: No, I didn’t sign it because I was scared.
Heather: No wait, that’s J.Sto's writing. Hahahaha! Way to disguise your writing with fake a’s with hooks on top. You can’t fool me.
Jessica: That’s good, practical advice. Bridget got all advice Nazi with us.
Heather: Why?
C.Sto: She said we ruined your book.
A confused look from Heather.
Jessica: Exactly. (spies Bridget) And now she’s mad at us for talking smack about her. She needs to calm down. She did a good job with the shower.

Here is what I learned from the shower:
1. Older ladies freak out about planning weddings. This will always be the case. Just don’t fuck up the ribbon bouquet and you’ll be fine.

2. It is most excellent to care, work hard and plan events for someone. The key is remembering the work is for them and should be what they would want. Not what you would want if it were all for you. (I already knew that, but whatever.)

3. Scratchy throats and jet lag do not work well at wedding showers. I felt like Grumpy doing an impression of Funshine.

4. I rule at all wedding games. And advice giving.

5. Michelle is afraid to sign things.

Anyway, here is the last thing that Bridget said to me:
Bridget: Your bridesmaid privileges are hereby revoked.

I believe she is extra mad at me. Good thing my friends don't read my site.

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