Category Archives: WedCentral

Do you have?

  • A giant latte to get you through the rest of this crazy Thursday?
  • A birthday cake to bake for someone very, very loved?
  • A lovely boyfriend to run away with this weekend?
  • A royal engagement ring replica to wear during a 2am viewing party because you are OUT OF CONTROL EXCITED about the impending nuptials across the pond?

I do!


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Filed under Gentlemen Friends, Obsessions, WedCentral

Why teenagers are not allowed to plan weddings

Old Journal


“Hydrangea centerpieces, the Rose Room at the Plaza Hotel in New York, on-command lighting…tiara?  YES!”

Is on-command lighting even a thing?  Is it possibly related to Buzz Lightyear and Star Command?

All I know is that I wanted that tiara bad.


Related note: I had not, nor have I still, been to New York city.  Or this mysterious Rose Room that I so coveted for my own wedding, once upon a time. Where did these bizarre fantasies come from?

For the record, 25 year-old me now wants to get married in a field and eat burritos at my reception.

Hope that’s okay with you guys.

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Filed under WedCentral

I’m a MOH no mo’

Well, that was fun.

We laughed, we cried, we ate, we danced.  And oh yeah – some of us even got married!

I feel relieved that everything went so well – nobody fell down, passed out, said anything inappropriate, or called off the wedding.  My hair looked stupid (never go to the Skye Salon and Spa in Parker, and never have a stylist named Stacey!) but LP looked so beautiful, and as it was her wedding, that was what mattered.

She always yelled at me because “You’re so pretty!” is our default cover your ass move when you have bad news.  For example:

“Hi LP!  Um, so, our love chihuahua may or may not have chewed up your favorite pair of underwear and peed on your bed while I was supposed to be watching her.”

“She did what?!?!”

“You’re so pretty!  Have I mentioned today, how pretty you are?  PRETTY PRETTY, that’s you!”

But really – and I’m not just saying this – she looked spectacular yesterday.

As promised, I brought the funny to the wedding.  At least, that’s what everybody told me!  I did hear people laughing, and at the end of the toast there was lots of cheering, so I took it as a good sign.  If you’d like to read my MOH speech from last night, see below.

If you don’t want to read the MOH speech, that’s cool.  I mean, I’m pretty tired today, so I wouldn’t want to be reading speeches and other people’s funny on the interweb.  What I would want to be doing is drinking a margarita in my pajamas at 3:30 in the afternoon.  And I’m halfway there…if only I could just find that tequila….

LP’s Wedding Toast – July 3, 2009

Hello everyone.  My name is Hilary and I’m your resident MOH – maiden of honor – this evening.  I would like to preface this speech by letting you know that I am, in fact, going to make fun of the bride.  We are equal opportunity teasers, always have been, and I give this speech knowing full well that on my wedding day, many many many years from now, when she stands next to me and gives her MOH toast, she will have her comeuppance.

Dana and I have known each other since sophomore year of college.  We met when we discovered we lived in the same 20 bedroom mansion but had never met, which is a common occurrence when you live in the sorority house.

We lived together in the house together for two years, and then we lived in an apartment together for another year.  And after living with someone for three years, sharing bedrooms, bathrooms, personal space, and lip gloss, you get to know them well enough you could almost write an owner’s manual.

Mike, you’ve never lived with Dana, and I have, and I have a journalism degree so I think this makes me uniquely qualified to do exactly that.  And so, I present you with the Dana Partner’s Manual: full of incredibly helpful, and possibly life-saving, advice.  So buckle up, and I won’t be offended if you want a copy of this later.

When Dana told me the story of your engagement, she said that her dad Sam apparently asked you if you’d ever seen Dana really mad, and if not, you might like to reconsider your offer.  Sam, is that true?  Did you ask that?  Well, I have to agree with him.  But it’s too late for that now.

One day you WILL see Dana really mad.  Nobody knows when or why, but it will happen.  However, I’d like to help you stave off that day for as long as possible, so I bring us to the first chapter in the Dana Partner’s Manual:

Chapter One: Having an argument with Dana.

There are a few topics of conversation never to broach with Dana:

  1. Butter
  2. Chairs
  3. Who it was specifically who left the door open on a windy night, while a candle was aflame near a real (and crispy) Christmas tree, in February and almost torched you in your bed at 2 am.  And also, the coffee pot was on.

Bringing these things up with Dana can only result in pain, heartache, and your possible demise.  So don’t do it.  Just repeat after me: I am always wrong.  Dana is always right.  In case you forget who is always right, you can ask her, she’ll tell you!  I am wrong, she is right.  Good.  Say this to yourself every morning, like a mantra.

Speaking of morning, I’m glad you brought that up.

Chapter Two: Morning Time

Morning is an interesting time for Dana.  For many people, morning is full of promise, shiny and new.  A fresh start to a new day.  But try to put yourself in Dana’s shoes.  If you are Dana, morning is a time when the whole world hates you and you’ve lost the will to live.

If you want to survive the morning intact, there are just a few simple rules:

Rule number one: no talking.  It’s okay to make her some coffee or cinnamon rolls, put them on a plate and the back away slowly.  It’s okay to turn on some music.  It’s okay to watch the news in a different room entirely.  But there should be no talking in the morning.

Rule number two: no touching.  Touching Dana in the morning is like poking a sleeping bear with a stick.  Actually, it’s like poking a very pretty bear who used to be asleep but who is now awake, and really, really angry about it.  Keep your hands to yourself, otherwise you might lose one.

Rule number three: never, under any circumstances, say anything about how her hair looks in the morning.  Just don’t say those words.  Actually, refer to rule number one: just don’t say any words at all.

No talking, no touching.  You’re going to be fine.

Actually, you are going to be more than fine.  Because life with Dana is more than fine – it’s awesome.  And that brings us to our final chapter:

Chapter Three: Life with Dana

Life with Dana is always an adventure – you might get lost, you might get frustrated, you might get into a fight about something stupid like butter or Christmas trees.  You might even get really mad at each other.  But you will definitely get the most wonderful partner anyone could ask for.

As I’ve mentioned about a thousand times tonight, Dana is my best friend.  I would even go so far as to say soul mate, because it’s a rare and beautiful thing in this life to find someone who understands you deep in your soul, who complements you, who makes you laugh, who’s there for you, and who just plain gets you.  It’s rare and beautiful indeed, but not so rare that you can’t find it twice if you’re lucky.  I think you’re both very lucky, because you have found that soul connection in each other.

So my final bit of advice to BOTH of you – yes, I know I’m very wise – is to nurture that connection.  Choose the highest road, the kindest word, the gentlest touch.  Take care of each other.

Dana and I have always joked that we’ll outlive our husbands and when we’re old we’ll wear crazy hats and start drinking at 10 am.  Mike, if you take care of her as well as I know she will take care of you, I have no doubt that we’ll all be there together.  I hope you look good in a crazy hat, and I hope you like vodka.

I now conclude the reading of the Dana Partner’s Manual with a toast: to Dana and her new partner Mike.

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Filed under Fiesta!, Friends, WedCentral

Bringing the funny (and the condoms) to a Mexican wedding near you

I have finished my MOH (maiden of honor) speech for LP’s wedding tomorrow, as I’m sure you already saw via Twitter because you are just desperate to keep up with my life, Internet.

I’ve already tested said speech to my mom, and she thought it was both funny and poignant.  But she’s my mom, so maybe she has to say that.  Test run #2 happens tomorrow at the bridesmaid’s luncheon.  While the bride is getting her hair and makeup done, I will be making the funny in a different room.

So, just like a usual day really.

I’m actually not really that nervous, because the groom’s Aunty Lila already talked about birth control pills, condoms, and bacon.  What do I have to lose at this point?

My pride?  Too late for that.

My street cred?  I have none.

My dignity?  I’m wearing a hot pink evening gown.  Enough said.

Full transcript of said speech will be posted after the wedding.

You’re welcome, Internet, you’re welcome.

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Filed under Another one bites the dust, Fiesta!, WedCentral

A random smattering of things of sorts

I have been neglecting my blog for the last two weeks-ish.  I always feel like I should apologize for doing that.  But then I always feel like asking myself why it is that I let an inanimate object of the web 2.0 variety make me feel bad things about myself.  Clearly it’s just a big hurricane of emotion over here.

I cannot stop eating dairy foods and crave them all the time. And by all the time I mean for the last three days.  Yogurt, cheese, enormous glasses of milk, cheese, and cheese.  This is only weird because I very rarely crave anything involving cows – beef, cheese or anything with a nice cow print upon it – nothing.  I am usually a straight up vegetable girl and I actually have been known to long for giant bowls of peas or 15 and a half brussel sprouts.  Some people find that weird.  Of course, those same people subsist solely on junk food and baked goods, and I find that disgusting, so there you go.  Besides, how weird is it going to be when you’re dead and I’m running marathons?  Not so weird that I won’t risk it.  Ummm anyway, cheese is great.

Speaking of marathons a little bit, I ran the BolderBoulder last weekend!  I used to not be able to run around the block, and now I can run at least 6.2 miles, most likely more.  At least, that’s what I like to tell myself. And I was not, contrary to what I assumed would happen, trampeled by skinny hippies.  No Internet, I ran the whole way, I was not trampeled, and I had such a great time running 6.2 miles that I did it again later in the week.  Although I have to tell you, it’s much easier to run when the whole city cheers for you, and it is less easy to run when you are by yourself.  So I guess it’s just like they say “Everything Is More Fun With Hippies.”  If they say that.  I guess I should ask my brother, who lives in Boulder 82% of the time.  G – Do they say that?  They should.

Speaking of The G (The G is my illustrious brother, in case you didn’t know) I would like to report a sad state of affairs: The G is actually not in Boulder like he’s supposed to be, but is, instead, in Arkansas.  Yes, that’s right, Arkansas.  Which means he’s missing out on all kinds of summer fun.  This fun includes, but is not limited to:

– Hiking in Moab with the Lutherans

– Seeing Harry Potter at the IMAX

– Riding bikes and playing with sidewalk chalk

– Drinking vodka lemonade on the deck (The G likes his girly drinks don’t you know)

– Telling me how great I look while I prance around in various wedding attire

– Scrapbooking

– Wait a second – this has turned into my summer list basically.  Which means it’s time to wrap this up.

In conclusion, I guess, this is not a post about a random smattering of things, but is mostly about feelings:  I feel conflicted, I feel fast, I feel like I miss my brother, I feel like I have way too many weddings to go to.  Oh – and I feel like I would like some cheese. 

Do you have any?

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Filed under Digressions, Family, WedCentral

For LP

I got a sad little facebook message from my life partner (LP) last night.  She started out by saying that when she misses me, she stalks me on this here blog.  Thank the baby Jebus we have the Internet, or else what would we do?  LP lives in the desert of Las Vegas now, and aside from all the 18 years when we didn’t exist in each other’s lives, it’s the farthest apart we’ve ever been.


Those 18 years seem a little bit like a blip on the radar, the short jurassic period in the timeline of my life.  It’s strange to think there was a time when the person who knows me the very best, didn’t know me even a little bit, not even at all.  


It’s strange to think that we actually once went through the “Hilary meet LP, LP meet Hilary” ritual of introduction, when now we don’t even bother with hello, we just launch into stories and fits of giggles that leave my sides sore, my cheeks pink, and my eyes sparkly with tears, because it’s like those 18 years of not knowing don’t matter, not even a little bit, not even at all.  


It’s strange to think that she’s getting married soon.  My LP, my other half, has found another half.  And I don’t like it.  Not even a little bit, not even at all.

But here’s what you should know people: when I say I miss her – and I say it all the time – it isn’t really a when, it’s a because.

Because I miss her, I stalk her on the Internet, too.  Because I miss her, I re-read our hilarious e-mail correspondence and laugh about the weeks where we only wrote to each other in haiku. Because I miss her, I talk about her incessantly, like a child with an imaginary amigo. I’m sure people wonder if there actually is such a creature as an LP, or if I’m just the crazy lady in the corner, stuffing muffins into my purse and talking about my fake friend.


It is because I miss her so much, that I know I love her so much. I don’t miss her when, I miss her always.  I don’t love her when, I love her always.

And so, because I miss her, I am writing about her on this here blog.


Because I love her, I am strapping on a hot pink maiden of honor dress that I am, indeed, so honored to wear.

Because I love her, I am overlooking this other half business.  Instead of being afraid, I am learning to relish in her happiness and excitement.

Because I love her, I am going to stand up next to her on one of the most important days of her life, because that is what LPs do for each other.  Because that is what she will do for me, when my day eventually comes.  And I know that no matter what color I choose, she’ll strap on that maiden of honor dress, and I’ll be so honored when she wears it.

Because I love her, I miss her always.  Because I love her, I’ll stand by her always.

And here’s the thing about always: with the right people, you mean it.  

So no matter how old and crazy we get, we’ll always tell stories that make our faces crack open with huge smiles.  We’ll always tell inappropriate stories and write naughty haikus and recite them out loud.  We will always eat cake.


We will always stand together, my best friend and I.   Because that’s what LPs do for each other.  And it won’t matter where we end up, because in the end, nothing will have changed.  Not even a little bit, not even at all.




Happy Birthday, LP.  You’re my fave.


Filed under Friends, Thinking, WedCentral

Too drunk to wear this trench coat

Two Very! Important! Things!

1. Though perhaps implied by the below post, I do not have a husband or children.  I am much too young for that.  At least, I think so.  You can do the masthead math and judge for yourself.  In fact, I’ve recently been quoted as saying that all my friends are getting married, and I’m just getting drunk.  So I think it’s safe to say that I’m not responsible enough to be married.  Nor am I probably responsible enough to be left unattended at an open bar, but just you try and stop me.

2. I totally bought and am L to the OVING that Banana Republic trench coat. Even though it’s been 70 here.  I still love it. Yes, I’m that sweaty looking spy-esque unmarried 24 year old you’ve been eyeing on the way to work in the morning.  Just say hi.  It’s fine.

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Filed under It's awkward now, WedCentral, Work