Heels (#251)

I loved dressing up when I was young. There was no high-heeled shoe, no tutu too blinged out for me. I convinced my second grade teacher to let me put on plays solely for the costumes. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Sleeping Beauty performed in tutus–but minus the music or ballet. 

I got tall early. My mother tried to steer me toward tailored, conservative clothes. Her results were mixed. Whenever possible, I insisted on shiny boots or four inch clogs, no matter how many times I tripped or how many inches I towered over my fifth grade square dancing partner.  

More than once, my father flinched visibly over my outfits. Continue reading Heels (#251)

Murphy’s Wedding (#57)

Sometimes, the bride feels like anything BUT a princess.
Sometimes, the bride feels like anything BUT a princess.

I couldn’t figure out why my wedding was so stressful until I compared it to making a movie.

If a wedding were a Hollywood movie, the bride would be the director, the producer, and the writer. She’s the costume designer, the casting director, and the location scout.

The bride is also the star.

The bride is so screwed. Continue reading Murphy’s Wedding (#57)