At last, an upside

There are few bright sides to getting unengaged after having been engaged for six months. Luckily, I have found one. I am probably the foremost unmarried, unengaged local expert on New York/North Jersey weddings, not counting people who work in the wedding industry. I spent six months reluctantly planning a wedding (which would have kicked so much ass anyway), making innumerable phone calls, sending out a googleplex emails, and reading a brazillion web sites and blogs. All of this led to the creation of a pretty fantastic spreadsheet which, several months after my broken engagement, I was able to fish out of my Google Docs trash and place in a more benign, but also rarely-visited folder.
At work, I seem to get a lot of questions regarding weddings, wedding web sites, venues, costs, vendors, etc. These people have no reason to know that I know this stuff, but somehow they always ask the questions when I’m around. If I were more self-centered, I’d think it was some sort of retribution (why, universe??? I recycle), but I tend to think it’s just their good luck.
So I DO know the going rate for a wedding band (no less than $4500 for a good 4-piece band), the busiest month for weddings in NJ (October), and how much you can expect to pay for a sit down country club reception during prime wedding season (Friday: ~$125; Saturday night: ~$145). I know where on the reference shelves to find that book about wedding venues in the area, since we all remembered seeing it but nobody could recall the title. I know which Manhattan bridal boutiques engage in ridiculous markups, and which are relatively honest (because, let’s face it, the same dress should not cost $200 more at another store).
I just hung out the other day with a friend who unfortunately needed to get a divorce after a brief marriage. I know that this is a really rough time for her right now, and as bad as it was for me last year, I can’t help but thank my lucky stars that my ill-advised engagement did not culminate in marriage.

Do you want me, D.C?

Because I’ve just learned that there are TWO (count ’em) Nando’s in Washington, D.C., and the thought alone has me rechecking the current job openings at the Library of Congress.

Well shoot

I’m home sick, and as is my wont when I have free time and the weather’s crappy, I’ve been roaming around the Internet. Since I called out of work, I don’t want to be posting on Facebook or Twitter, even though, realistically, sneezing and coughing shouldn’t mean that I can’t type, right? But better not to do anything that could be misinterpreted later. So here’s the article that I would have posted on Facebook if I was posting there today.

Here’s a Gawker article about how very screwed John Edwards is. Like a lot of people, I really thought that he might have had a chance to do something great for this country, and was really disappointed at how badly he messed things up. What is it with these politicians who cannot keep it in their freaking pants long enough to make good on the myriad promises that they’ve made to us? Why do they believe that they won’t get caught? Didn’t anybody learn anything from Gary Hart?

Now, though, instead of just losing all credibility with pretty much everybody and seeing his political career die a really ugly public death, he also has to be concerned that he’s being accused of fraud for payouts made to Rielle Hunter, the woman with whom he had the affair. What a dummy. Hunter received over $100,000 from the Edwards campaign for videos that look like what my 13 yo nephew could do with a camera and iMovie. Once again, The National Enquirer was there with the story before any of the big boys deigned
to report it.

Blah blah blah…Ginger

I hadn’t heard anybody gossiping like fishwives lately, so I turned on Sunday Night Baseball. I enjoy the broadcasts because Joe Morgan and Jon Miller are totally in love with one another, and there’s nothing more satisfying than watching a couple’s love deepen. The addition of Steve Phillips ups the hotness factor by infinity, and the more he talks, the less we have to hear Joe. Their tangents are usually irrelevant and not interesting besides, but every now and then they reveal something so intensely personal about a player, coach, or other baseball staffer that you wonder why anybody still talks to them.

It figures

I thought that something was missing from the news that Project Runway could go ahead on Bravo, but I didn’t know what. And then Heidi Klum and Seal announced that they were expecting their fourth child and I was like, oh yeah…

It’s just not a good season of Project Runway if Heidi isn’t sporting those insane maternity outfits and knee-high boots!

And now Project Runway’s disputed sixth season has a Lifetime premiere date of August 20. Can’t wait!

MY open letter to NBC regarding Chuck

Alan Sepinwall, Star-Ledger TV critic and blogger extraordinaire has written an open letter to NBC in support of Chuck. And he wrote it before last night’s episode, which he thought was awesome enough to give a Dayenu filled review. So awesome! Anyway, thanks to Sepinwall, I was inspired to write my own letter to NBC.

Dear smart people at NBC who were open-minded enough to air this show originally:

I used to merely like this show, but over the course of this season it has become my favorite program on tv! It’s funny, smart, full of things I inevitably want to buy (Awesome could have bought ME that television), and the characters exhibit genuine growth as a direct result of their experiences. I love that Chuck has these networks of peers, friends, and family who care about him, even if they don’t necessarily understand him, and who try to help him out, even if their idea of help doesn’t actually aid Chuck. I recommend this program to any friend of mine who is looking for a new program, and have successfully hooked at least 5 people that I know of this season. I could probably get more if Chuck wasn’t in such a competitive time slot. I know many people who would never dare cheat on Dr. House, Blair Waldorf, or Neil Patrick Harris, but would consider watching Chuck consistently if it was on at a different time. If Chuck was canceled, I would be more devastated than I was when Dead Like Me, Veronica Mars, and Joan of Arcadia were canceled. Combined.

Please don’t let Chuck be an addition to my “Gone too soon” dvd collection of shows that were taken off the air after their second or third season, before the writers had told all the stories they had to tell. This show gets better every episode and has a loyal fandom, bringing together sci-fi nerds, ‘shippers, young men, tech heads, espionage fans, and people who just plain like great programming. You’ve basically won demographic bingo here!

Please don’t break my heart,
Nicole

Vacation Pictures!

Here are a some pictures from the places I visited on my vacation. If you click on the city names, you can see the entire set on Flickr. I have only a few shots from Birmingham, because I’ve been to England before and only took pictures at the concert.

Belfast:
img_1370
img_1385
img_1370
img_1413
img_1417
img_1463
img_1469

Birmingham
dsc00747
dsc00767
dsc00785
dsc00787

Dublin:
dsc00808
dsc00810
dsc00839
dsc00852
dsc00860
dsc00895

Glendalough:
img_1482
img_1489
img_1490
img_1499
img_1541
img_1551
img_1569
img_1573
img_1482

Awww

Aww, I read the Vows column from yesterday, and I guess this was posted when I was away, but I really wish these kids the best.

Did you miss me?

I made it back to the US without incident. The weather here is not as nice as the weather I left in Dublin, which is sad and funny at the same time. I had a GREAT time on my vacation, and am a little sad that I will now have to resume my normal life.

I’ll be posting some more stuff from my trip and pictures, but that probably won’t happen today. I’m sooo jet-lagged (that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it).

Belfast

So I’m having a pretty good time here in the UK. Northern Ireland is lovely, and it seems that I brought with me unexpectedly good weather. Lots of people commented to me how unusual the warm sunshine was. You’re welcome, Belfast.

For the most part, the people I met were awesome. A lot of them were really interested to hear that I was from the US and genuinely wanted to know what I thought of their fair city. Many expressed admiration and apprehension that I was on my own, and I felt like I’d traveled to a city of my own relatives. The first night, I met three older guys who showed me the local bars and told me all sorts of stuff I wouldn’t have learned otherwise. One wanted to grab dinner the next night, but I figured that it would be silly to tie myself up with the same parties two nights in a row, and nicely declined. A word of advice to anybody going to Belfast: eat early. I guess I was still in New York mode and thought that leaving my hotel room after 10 would give me time to grab food and hit the pubs, but that was absolutely not the case. I struck out at all the restaurants I saw, and was lucky to make it to McDonald’s before they, too, shut down for the night.

The next night, I learned my lesson and left to find food at 8:15 (and even that was too late to get food at some of the local pubs that served meals). I had a good dinner, went back to the hotel and watched Dollhouse and the first episode of Cupid (I’ll talk about that some time later), and then went to a couple of local bars. The people in the first weren’t really as outgoing, so I left after one drink and ended up talking with Ricky and Ian, two nice guys who work at the Belfast Telegraph. We chatted for a bit outside, but they were smoking cigarettes and I was kind of freezing, so I told them to find me when they came inside the bar.

As I sat waiting for them, this old, super drunk guy who was actually sleeping when I first walked by awakened and started mumbling to me. I have discovered that it is nearly impossible for me to understand a Belfast accent when the speaker is under the influence, so I gave him a vague smile, told him I was waiting for my friends, and went back to reading on my phone. He had just asked me to join him at his table when Ian and Ricky showed up. He scowled at us and all was well until about a half hour later, when the guys went to grab more beer and I stayed at the table. Then the drunken fossil asked me how much I would charge to go back to his home with him. At first I thought that I’d misunderstood, but he said it again and I realized that he thought I was a prostitute.

I was really hurt and wondered what I’d done to give him that impression. Later, I realized that being a single foreign woman alone in a bar, who then ended up sitting at a table and talking with two local men might give somebody the wrong impression, if that person was inclined to think like a pervert. But, while I realized it wasn’t worth disabusing him of his incorrect notion, I simply said no and decided not to stick around for the pitch. I went over to the guys at the bar and told them what the old dude had said. They were touchingly offended on my behalf, and when we got back to the table, the fossil kept yelling vulgar things at use. Ian, the cute one who looked like David Wright (he’s never really done it for me, but add an accent and I can start to understand the appeal) got up, looking pretty angry, and headed toward the old guy’s table, but Ricky stopped him from going over there, and we ignored the fossil after that.

We stayed at that bar until last call, then went to another one. On the way, I somehow managed to lose one of my pretty new dangly earrings, which made me sad. I pulled out the other one so I didn’t look deranged. Even though we went to another bar afterward, we got there after last call there, too, so I helped Ricky talk to a girl he found cute. Things were going well until she told him that she was 24 and he told her that she looked 28. It was not untrue, but that lost him major points, and it took him a while to recover his lost ground, and a lot of that was due to me. I guess I haven’t lost my touch and still make a pretty awesome wingman. The guys and I parted ways in the cab back to my hotel. I got out to find my earring and had no luck, but I went back out the next morning before leaving for the airport, and found it with no problem! It was a little crushed, but I think that it can be bent back into shape.

I had heard that there wasn’t a lot going on in Belfast, and I scheduled my vacation accordingly. If I’d known before booking how awesome Belfast is, and how relatively sedate Birmingham is in comparison, I probably would have spent 4 days in Belfast and only stopped over in Birmingham for the concert. I definitely intend to go back to Belfast and spend a lot more time there!

The first Jason Mraz concert is tonight, and I’m a bit worried. I’ve heard from a person who went to a concert in Brussels, and he said it was blah, and that’s exactly how one of the free London dailies described the Mraz concerts in London over the weekend. Maybe a day off will allow him to rev up and be on his A game for Birmingham. I’m keeping my fingers crossed!

WordPress Themes