Thursday, July 14, 2011

Bridezilla Pizza Party aka Birthday Do-Over

My fiance Easy had a birthday last week. He just turned 27, yay!

I had a birthday gathering for him that ended up being a comparison of who's friends were more flaky between mine and his. Mine ended up winning, but then again, they've only known him for a year. It's still a toss up.

My girls who are my bridesmaids decided to come by for a birthday do-over. It was really a nice surprise because I was under the impression that only Michelle was coming. But her plus 4 others came carrying pizza, beer, and wine.

They came to make up for missing Easy's birthday as well as to make sure I was okay after the bridesmaid dress fiasco. And they brought me something to make me (hopefully) laugh.

The pictures are backwards because I took them in the mirror. The top one is the back-side of the sash. It says C-Ride. There is a ridiculous story associated with that nickname that I'll explain in a second. The bottom pic is the front-side of the sash. It says Bridezilla.

They were all looking very nervous when they handed me the sash until I laughed when I saw it. Then they felt relieved. I thought it was funny. I don't know that I acted very bridezilla-ish with the bridesmaid dresses. If Camille hadn't tried to help the issue by making it 1000 times worse, there would have been no drama to begin with. but that's neither here nor there.

Besides, I mentioned before that my friends make up rumorsjust to be funny. Also, Easy said I can't be called a bridezilla because I didn't let bird poop break me. Soooooo, I embraced my new sash and my new bridezilla rumor and we got back to celebrating Easy's birthday (a week late). Mmmm, pizza from Giordano's.

Back to how I got the nickname C-Ride. I was out with my girls, apparently laying all the bonding groundwork necessary to have the perfect bride-bridesmaid relationships. We stopped by a liquor store to load up for what was sure to be a fun night.

I paid for what I purchased and the guy behind the counter balked at the name on my license. "How the hell do you pronounce this name? You know what? It doesn't matter. You need a nickname. I'm gonna call you C-Ride."

We all began laughing because C-Ride is the type of round-the-way nickname you give to someone who's got many many street credentials to back up such a name. On me, it's just ridiculous.

And instead of letting the moment pass and laughing occasionally that some stranger we never saw again chose to nickname me, my girls (and their guys) embraced the nickname wholeheartedly. It's still used to be funny, but it definitely stuck.

I'm C-Ride. Don't judge me. Judge my silly friends. In fact, Gloria's boyfriend Gregory never calls me CeCe. He only calls me C-Ride. And when she mentions me to him by name he responds, "Who is CeCe? Oh, you mean C-Ride? I don't know who CeCe is."

Okay, as I wrap this post up, I'd like to apologize for the terrible quality of the photographs. I snapped them quickly on my blackberry before I headed off to work Wednesday night. I swear I know better than to take photos in mirrors of words with light behind me. I'll do better next time.

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