50 Shades of White...

Hey guys.  No, this is not a blog post about the Fifty Shades of Grey series.  So if you think you are going to read a posting about bodice ripping and sex, you will just have to stay tuned for another day ;) 

So...I normally don't rant about my work, and to be honest I know most of you really don't care to hear about what is going on in the wedding world (well, unless you are getting married any time soon).  But there is an epidemic on the rise and I can not keep quiet about it anymore. 

I have been a part of the wedding planning/event planning world in some fashion or another for the past 8 years, and even the most skilled Bridezilla Wranglers (like myself) are taking notice of this growing problem.  It has even crossed into the tuxedo world which is my specialty, and I am getting tired of it.  There are only so many bullets you can dodge in your day and only so many tricks you can use to put out the fires caused by a Bridezilla on the rampage!  And this time around, this wrangler is about ready to hang up her lasso and give in.  So here is the problem boys and girls.  Maybe you can help me.

Just how many shades of white are there in this world?!

I got into a discussion with my partner in crime Nicole about this subject at work and just how many shades (or rather, non-shades) of white actually exist in today's wedding world.  She actually gave me idea to blog about this and I must credit her with the awesome title.

Here are just a few, and you tell me you wouldn't go crazy over this load of bridal bullshit:

White (Oh course)

Off-white (Or ivory if you're feeling technical)

Diamond White

Soft White

Candlelight White

Eggshell White

Antique White

Anti-Flash White

Snow White

Splashed White (What the hell??)

Ecru (It's a really dirty white...it's been a bad, bad white)

Ghost White (Boo!)

Smoke White (That just sounds dirty)

Pearl White

Pale White

Magnolia White

Oleander White

Vintage White

...and my personal favorite...Hussy White...for the frisky brides!

See!  It is enough to drive even the most skilled wedding professionals mad! 

See what I mean!  When will the madness end!

Since when did the word "white" become so loose?  It's the whore of the color world! It needs to stay out of all the other shades and just be left alone.  You don't need to try and be different, you're good just the way you are. 

If I have one more bride come into my store and tell me her dress is any shade other than white or ivory my head is going to explode!  Seriously, I am going to let you in on a little secret: IT IS ALL THE SAME SHADE OF WHITE!! THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE IN THE COLOR!! I know...the image is shattered.

It is a ploy in my opinion (I really have no proof, just a theory) to make it hard on all parties involved throwing or planning a wedding for a bride and groom.  In reality, there should only be 3 colors:

White

Ivory

Black...for the offbeat brides like my Austin friend Nicole would do.  

Eat your heart out, Vera Wang.

No more shades or names are needed!  Why make something more difficult to match?  I am tired of cracking my whip at people about this.  Consider this your warning.  Change the color back to normal and stop making dresses in that shade.  I am not the only one who feels this way.  I speak for the entire wedding community.  Don't make us break off a toasting flute and use it as a shiv.  We are for real-real, not for play-play.

You have been warned.

Back in the B-L-O-G...

Hey Guys.  Long time no blog.  I know, I am sorry.  Please forgive me?

Things have been rolling right along for me here in Macyland.  Let us see what has happened since we last talked.  We (the roommates and I and the 5 kit-kats) moved into a spacious house, work has been awesome as usual, and I am planning a little vacation in about a week and a half.  Other than that I am trying not to melt in the hot hot heat of the Texas summer.

I tried to think of a really good topic of discussion for my first blog back in over a couple months.  Nothing really juicy has happened to me that is noteworthy and to be honest, it is a little sad :(
I'm not saying that life has to be a roller coaster ever single moment, but the summer has been quite...well...ordinary.  And you know, I'm okay with that.

This past year has been so chaotic having my world turned on it's side that it feels good to just sit back, try and relax, and not to have to worry about the bottom dropping out.  Things are falling into place, my friendships are wonderful, my family is growing by the day, and I am thankful that I can just take the time to sit still, be silent, and watch as things coast.

It has taken me a long time to get to this point.  For the past 6 months or so I have had to relearn how to take care of myself.  I totally forgot how to make sure I am alright.  I became accustomed to being put on the back burner and controlling everything in my life.  I have had to retrain myself into putting myself first and taking care of my health, my head, and my heart.

I plan on updating a lot more now that I got the old desktop out of storage and bummed a desk off my lovely friend Amber.  I am writing again, drafting my thoughts and thinking about what I want to do with my time.  So stay tuned because I assure you things can only go up from here.

I will try to cause some trouble so I have something interesting to write about next time.  That I promise.

Adios Amigos. 

My Alter Ego Wears High Heels...

Superman has Clark Kent.  Wonder Woman has Diana Prince.  Even Lady Gaga has that Joe Calderone dude-whatever-thing going on.  Why is it that you have to be a super hero or a scary pop singer who wears dresses made out of meat to have an alter ego?  My thoughts exactly.

My close friends know this about me.  When I was a little lit chick, if you had asked me what my favorite cartoon was you wouldn't have been met with the typical Disney or Nickelodeon response.  My all time without a doubt favorite cartoon is a deliciously 80's cartoon that not many people of my generation have heard of.  That cartoon is Jem and The Holograms.

The premise:  Jerrica Benton is the powerful owner and manager of Starlight Music, a company that was built by her father.  Her biggest act is Jem and her band The Holograms.  What you don't know is that Jerrica IS Jem.  I know, what a shocker! With the help of Synergy, a super computer that was built by Jerrica's father, and a snazzy pair of star earrings, Jerrica transforms into Jem with a simple command of "Showtime Synergy" and no one ever catches on to the fact that they are the same rockin' chick.  Not even Jerrica's longtime boyfriend Rio, who has the hots for Jem which leads to a really awkward love triangle kinda-not-really situation.  

I'm not saying that I need to be a record label executive or the front woman to a band to have my own alter ego, right?  But if I was going to create such a different personality for myself, who would she be?

In college I did created one alter ego.  I named her Mia, which stood for "Macy In Action."  Needless to say, if the statement, "Macy isn't coming, but Mia is" you knew that it was going to be a good night.  I never went too far into Mia's background however.  Her character development never really needed to go beyond the fact that she liked Cherry Vodka Sours and had a thing for black nail polish and stilettos.

Mmmm. It tastes like college.

 Mia was the rebellious bad girl that I always wanted to be.  She was fearless and confident, sexy and sultry.  She had all the right moves.  Men wanted to know her.  Girls wanted to fight her.  Bartenders wanted to serve her.  She was everything naughty that I never was.  Hell, everything that I'm still not.

The one problem with creating an alter ego is that it seems to work best in a setting where no one really knows the "real" you.  Having gone to college in my hometown, it was difficult not running into someone who recognized me as me.  There weren't a lot of 6-foot tall blondes running around my college town to throw off the kids I knew in high school.  So when I decided to move, I thought Mia would be moving with me.

Since moving to Austin, I initiated "Operation: Macy Reboot." I wanted the chance to reinvent myself.  I thought of this as a fresh start.  Since I was living in a new city, why not a new Macy.  I lost some weight (40 lbs and going), changed my hair, stopped wearing my glasses (I'm not that blind, people), changed my style and started to find a new me.

Hatching.  Lit Chick.  You get the reference.

The funny thing about it though is that once I got down here and revamped my image, I had no need for Miss Mia.  I had become everything I built her to be.  So, I decided to kill my creation and stop playing Dr. Frankenstein before my alter ego became a monster I couldn't stop.  I will miss Mia.  She and I had some good times.  But I am more interested in seeing what the real me can do.  I am Macy 2.0, Macy Part Deux, Macy: The 2012 Edition.

I just hope Mia stays gone and we don't end up with a Carrie kinda situation.  Can alter egos come back from the dead? Oh dear I hope not.  She would be pissed.

  

 Night Guys. 

As I Lay Me Down To Sleep...

I pray the lord my soul to keep.
Please stay with me all through the night.
And wake me with the morning light.

I used to say this as a little girl every night with my mom before bed. We would pray for all the children, all the animals, family and friends. We asked God to love us and protect us and always be with us. To make us be nice and kind and thanked him for all we had.

Prayer. It's a powerful thing. And most of the time we take it for granted.

Prayer is not a get-out-of-jail free card. For a long time I viewed prayer as a bargaining tool. "If you let me pass Statistics I swear I'll never slack on studying ever again." "If you let me get out of this speeding ticket I swear I'll never speed again." Things like that. Then that one day came when I couldn't bargain for the one thing I wanted most. "I swear if you bring my parents back I'll...I'll...I got nothing."

Prayer isn't a give and take. It's a give and have faith kinda system that is supposed to teach you to live by the golden rule, respect your fellow man, and believe that the good in people will be shown.

I have always believed that you don't need a church to talk to God...or whoever it is you talk to. If you feel that way, that's awesome! I just feel like I can speak to that higher being just as good while washing my hair as I would sitting in a church pew. After my mother died, I started to view prayer as a communication tool rather than a message line to put in your special requests.

If God is a DJ, and you're the caller, there is no guarantee that your request is going to get answered. Others get their answer first. And sometimes what you receive on your end of the line is what you need rather than what you want.

It's taken me a long time to pray. I've been angry with the way things are in the past and I am trying to not be so bitter. After my dad died in 2009 I didn't see the point in prayer. And this past December when I lost my mom, I just said to hell with it. If I can't get back the two most important people in my life, who is there to love and protect now? The morning light could go take a hike and leave me to wallow in self pity.

I have since tried changed that outlook.

I started to pray, and not just for myself. I pray for others. I pray for my cats. I pray for my favorite sweater to not shrink in the wash. If it's too hot, I kick on my prayer-conditioner.

I guess the point of this post guys is that prayer is powerful. It's sending out good thoughts and good karma in hopes of receiving the same positive gifts back. So let's try an experiment. Let's say a little prayer tonight for our loved ones, those with us and those who are not, to always be there to send us love in one way or another. Just because my parents are guardian angels doesn't mean I can't feel their love.

So say a prayer and say goodnight. And if you feel so inclined, say a prayer for my sweater, too. Because I think the hot water cycle just made it Barbie-sized. Oh, joy.

Night guys.

Blondes Do Have More Fun...Unless..

...They are in a horror movie.

Hey guys.  I have a confession to make.  I love horror films.  I am not talking about movies like Paranormal Activity or gore films like Saw 1-Saw 45 (that's how many there are, right?).  I mean the old school horror-suspense films that didn't need special effects or 3D graphics to scare the crap out of movie goers.  I am talking about the good old fashioned Alfred Hitchcock style of horror.

Growing up in the 90's and the early 2000's, you have to admit that we had our share of bad horror films.  The Scream series, the Final Destination series, the I Know What You Did Last Summer series (anyone else seeing a trend?).  They were all poorly made teenage slasher flicks that were so predictable I as a kiddo was able to figure out the killer before the Police Sheriff in the film ever did.

The threat doesn't bother me much...but the poor use of grammar is killing me! Pun intended!

 I love the history behind slasher movies.  When they first appeared in the 1950's and 1960's, they were made to target teenagers to make them more straight edge and to not give into the temptation of sex, drugs, and rock and roll.  That is why if you ever notice, the loose girls and drunken jocks always get killed off.  Always!  It is a given fact.  You either fly right, or you get hacked to death at Lover's Lane.  Didn't they teach you that in Health Class?

The main problem I have with horror films of any generation is this:  Why do Blondes make better victims?  I asked this question recently and the one answer that stuck with me was that, "Because the red blood stands out better against their blonde hair."  That is a pretty genius answer.

I think he would still be as scary if he was wearing a Rick Perry Mask.  Just saying...

"Blondes make the best victims. They're like virgin snow that shows up the bloody footprints."- Alfred Hitchcock. 


That's from the master of horror himself!  So it has to be true.  My thing is that they need to give credit when credit is due.  Just because I am blonde doesn't mean I am going to fall victim to a mask wearing, knife thrusting villain, does it? 

"A gun is so 1993.  Why not kill me using slashers, monsters, creatures, beasts, ghosts, or demons?" 

I would have the same amount of strength and brain power as my brunette counterpart to foil the villain and escape.  At least I think I would.  


Just because blondes are seen as "dumb" shouldn't have anything to do with making them less capable to outwit their potential killer.  If anything, they should be prepared for this situation since it's common knowledge they make better victims.  


Wait a tick, that seems like a great idea!  The Center for Blondes Who Want To Outsmart Killers...and Want To Learn To Do Other Things Good, Too!  Classes can include: How To Outsmart Your Potential Killer 101, How To Tell If Your Boyfriend Is The Killer 102, Eerie Music You Should Avoid 205, and P.E. (cause you have to be fit if your ass is gonna run away).  


If you are blonde and have any interest in attending my classes, please follow/comment/share this blog and spread the knowledge that blondes are more than just an easy slasher movie target; we are people, too.  And all you brunettes out there, be kind to us.  You may have us beat in the Horror department, but we are kicking your ass in the Chick Flick field.  Just ask Katherine Heigl. 

Go on with your quirky self!! 

Night guys!  

Ahh, Fork It...

Hello everyone! I hope you all had an amazing Easter weekend and a great start back to the week. Or you were like me and hit the snooze button 7 times Monday morning and cursed the daylight. Either way, I'm glad we meet again.

Easter for me was bittersweet. Ashley went back home and I spent a good 2 hours at Walmart grocery shopping and trying not to go down the candy aisle. All those discounted chocolate bunnies are deadly, aren't they! Damn you, Cadbury. Damn you straight to hell!

For the past 5 months or so, I have been on a life changing plan to lose weight and get healthy. I'm not on any diet pills, haven't looked for personal trainers or dietitians, and haven't considered surgery. I decided to do it the old fashioned way: working out, eating heathy, and holding myself accountable for my gains and losses.

I weigh myself every Wednesday and after plateauing for a good month, I finally hit my 40 lb mark. Just to give you an idea of how much of a loss that is, an accordion weighs 40 lbs. For the past 2 years, I have been carrying around an instrument. It's amazing how it feels to drop that. But it's also strange.

I feel lighter, yet I feel like I haven't lost anything at all sometimes. I constantly ask people if they can tell a difference. I'm not even trying to seek out compliments, I just need that reassurance that my scale isn't a lying bitch! I still feel like that overweight kid who got winded eating a cheeseburger. And trust me, McDonalds isn't very kind about customers taking a nap half way through their Big Macs. I feel like that awkward teenager who couldn't fit into the cool clothes. But I'm changing the way I think.

After a carb and calorie filled weekend with Ash, I resumed my diet...wait...my "life change" and have a goal set. By May 7, my 25th birthday, I want to be down 50 lbs total. It is a long distance goal, since I know there is a SAFE way to drop weight (you can't rush it...you have to go slow or you will end up flabby and that's not sexy). You can't starve yourself or over work yourself. Slow and steady wins the race. And there better be a cake at the finish line.

So wish me luck. I feel like I can do it, but if I don't I won't binge and eat myself into my old fat jeans. And if you want tips to my weight loss follow me, leave me comments, and ask away.

10 lbs feels like a lot. That equals to the same amount as an old 1980's brick phone. The same as a pair of platforms The Spice Girls wore in concert. Ugh...I can see the cake at the end of the tunnel.

Turning a quarter of a century old means you get to eat a quarter of the cake by yourself, right? I hope so.

See you at the finish line!!

The View From Up Top...

Hello guys. So I'm blogging to you from my hotel room bed right now using the Blogger app on my iPhone. Not sure how I feel about the app but hey, I'll give it a shot.

So today was Day 1 of Operation: Ashley & Macy Take Austin. I got to the hotel a little before 5, beating Ashley here by about 30 minutes. I'm not gonna lie, when we saw each other today, we ran and hugged in the parking lot like a couple of crazy ladies. It was quite special. We had an audience. It was special for them as well. I hope.

We had a blast tonight. After a fattening dinner at Vivo's and drinks down on 6th St., we stumbled into the Driskill Hotel to listen some jazz music. We walked around and talked, got hit on by creepy dudes on the street, and found ourselves going in and out of little hole-in-the-wall joints just catching up on what has gone on in the past month.

So now I'm totally nacho cheese wasted, about to pass out in my 9th floor hotel suite, and thinking about my complimentary breakfast tomorrow and the Starbucks down in the lobby. It's a good thing. I know I said I'd be off here for a couple days, but I just couldn't stay away.

More to come tomorrow guys! Thrift shopping, man hunting, and picture taking. And more food.

PS: While I'm thinking about it, today also marks the fact I'm down 40 lbs. I started my diet back in October and it's gotten me this far. 40 lbs...that's how much an accordion weighs. Think about it. I have.

I promise not to gain it all back this weekend. Pinky promise.