Red Letter Californian Weekend

So my Dad is getting married for the third time and my soon to be step mom has decided I must participate in the ceremony. This entails me standing in front of a hundred or so people that are suppose to be "just family" and read from the Bible. What will I read? I have no idea. Hopefully I'll know before the ceremony begins. No, my Dad is not religious as far as I can tell so I'm taking this whole idea as a really good sign of how well this whole marriage thing is going to work out for him.
Ok...so I must now get a dress. Thankfully my soon to be step mom told me where they were getting their dresses (her and her daughter) and so off I go. I was completely dreading this whole thing. I mean a yellow dress on a blonde could be....gross. Then there's the trying to find the right fit without loosing your dignity. I mean I have had 5 kids and it's been at least 11 years since I've tried on a fancy dress so you can imagine this whole idea sounded like a torture to me. Note to self never ever leave the (add favorite swear word here) camera in the car again. Attach to body is some way. Tape, staples, glue...something just brings it.
Did you know its prom time? I didn't which probably is a good thing. Anyway, teenage girls were everywhere. It was amazing. There were fluffy dresses. Bead and sequin dresses. Satin and ruffle dresses. Girls giggling. Moms sighing. And then there was me. Me in this colorful scene and you know what...I had fun in a completely girlie way. This must have been hidden inside me waiting to be release. I was cracking jokes here and throwing out complements there. Twirling this way posing that way. I tried on every yellow dress in the store and they fit and I looked sexy in a your nursing bra is showing kind of way.
I think hubby is still recovering from the girlie me.
Now I have found the dress. Next step is shoes, right? So we head over to South Coast Plaza Mall and go to Nordstrom's downstairs shoe department. Nothing worked except the great mistake that someone thought I was going to the prom. How great is that. I told them that I just had to find a sitter for my 5 little ones before I could go. Too funny. Anyway, they send me up to the Brass Plum for where the prom shoes are hiding. We get there and it looks like a crime scene. The shoes are romped off. Security people, the big bald black suit type, standing around. It looked bad. As we were about to head off for another store when a perky blonde comes to save the day. Gotta love those. She informed us that Jessica Simpson was there and she would get a salesman to help me find shoes. She got us a man to help. Poor guy you could tell he just wanted to stare with the rest of the folks, but he got me. I told him I wanted a strappy, yellow/gold, lower than 3", size 8 shoes. Pretty direct I thought. That man came out with black, purple, 6" shoes all size 9 1/2. Must have had his mind on other matters. Poor guy. I can't imagine how he kept his cool. So he goes off again to hopefully find "the shoe" and while we're waiting there this lady comes up to us and whips out this paper. She starts asking us if we would please take our kids to this audition for commercials that will be held tomorrow and hands us the paper with all the details. What a stunner. Luckily the shoe guy came back with a winner and we head off to the underwear department.
Now I need a strapless bra. So who do you think we find in the bra department? Yup, Jessica Simpson again. She really needs to stop following us around like this. It's getting a bit embarrassing. This time my luck runs out and we have to head to over to Victoria Secret. I mean that's where all girlie girls get their underwear, right?
Oh, Victoria you are seriously into underwear. If you head into the dressing room area. These people will whip out a measuring tape quicker than you can blink and start measuring your lumps and bumps. Then they start pulling out drawers and drawers of womanly torture devises all disguised in lace, satin, and other man made substances. Making you wonder how many people out there have spent hours trying to create the latest and greatest bra. Victoria has plain, padded, lace, clear straps, and water filled. Now water filled one got me. I mean how bad was the padding for the guys who were doing the feeling up to create a water filled one. I thought guys weren't that picky just happy to get what they could get. Oh, well. So I end up with this one called Angel. I asked if this was an oxymoron but got no response. Now this thing looks like batman armor. The sales lady assures me that it's softer. I have no idea. Who out there has touched Batman? Personally it would have to be the Val Kilmer one to touch. I think all the other Batmans had to rely on their wealth. So now my mall shopping has come to a close and I just need to buy drug store make up. Just because. By the way, I went with the bright red lip stick that will never come off until my skin does. Which has to be good for you.
Now the next day we dressed in lucky green for the auditions. Yes...7 people dressed the same can cause a stir. We finally found the parking lot. Parked and start walking toward the only building within sight. Luckily a worker spotted us and walked us to the proper place before we made a scene. What a relief. We lined up. Filled out paper work which shocking enough asked if their grades where good. Then we head into a room where all the parents sit and watch the poor little brave souls try to act their hearts out while being video taped. Of course my kids were brilliant. Far superior than the rest, but that goes without saying, right? They dismiss us with the promise of a phone call leading to untold riches and fame. Oh, How Californian can you get for a weekend?


erin/pinkerbell said...

dang that Jessica Simpson. ugh vicki's secret. *shudder* Of course your kids were brilliant was there ever any doubt?

knittyref said...

Ohhhhh, thank you for my morning giggle. I love to shop about as much as I love root canal. Throw J.S. into the mix and I would have been headed for the hills.

StillWater said...

Wow, thats interesting that a woman consumes over 4 to 9 lbs of lipstick in her lifetime! Here is the link that I found that shows all of the research:


wendy said...

Ewww...that's a real comforting thought.