Year in Review

Just like the TVs and magazines do, I'm using today's post to reflect on and share my highlights from 2008.

I have definitely had loads of fun with plenty of laughs, miles traveled and experiences shared. I will also link you to my best blog of the month, in my own opinion (and influenced by your comments).

Enjoy!

Colleen's Best of 2008:

January
I started the year by beginning a new relationship, which always sets things in a good light. Brett and I had our first official date (Bulls Game) on January 9th, and we're still enjoying getting to know each other. I also met his family pretty soon after in celebration of his Dad's birthday, and it has been a pleasure getting acquainted with them, too.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one about the Vagina Couch.

February
This month brought the end of an era: Then Again, the local cover band who has been a staple in my social life (and that of Kristen, Laura, Jill, etc.) for several years now retired. Mandi even came to town for their last show, and it was an absolute riot. My girls and I also got to see Bon Jovi's concert from the United Center box suite, which was a rockin' good time, too. It snowed a ton this month, so a trip to LA allowed me to celebrate Molly's 30th birthday while escaping the weather.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one about SPAM.

March
As a good Irish girl, of course this month included wild and raucous celebrations for St. Patrick's Day, as only Chicago can do. It also brought my Mom and sister Lauren to town, where we rendezvoused all over town and made our way to a fondue dinner with Brett's entire family, bringing both sides together over melted foods. The snow wasn't melting just yet, though.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one recapping the time I fainted on the El.

April
With the cold days and snow lingering on, Brett and I got creative for our date nights, including an Olympic-sized trip to Dave and Busters that resulted in an Olympic-length blog. We also saw Seinfeld live at the Chicago Theatre and I started a painting class with Katie and presented at the Direct Marketing Association's International Marketing Exchange, both activities which brought out skills I didn't know I had before.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one Celebrating my Dad for his birthday. At least he thought so.

May
With (slightly) warmer temps, we made our way to several Cubs games, and I participated in a charity walk for the American Cancer Society with a team of strong and resilient women. The summer of Wonderful Trips began with a long Memorial Day Weekend in Michigan capped off by the final planning for the Costa Rica trip. We were now counting down the DAYS not months!

The best blog of the month had to have been the one honoring my Mom for Mother's Day. At least she thought so. (I'm seeing a trend, here).

June
Without a doubt, the headline for this month is COSTA RICA! The Posse, the Men and Brett and I had a wonderful time in the land of Pura Vida. The rest of the month was filled with booze cruises, Kristen and Katie's birthday parties, beach volleyball and trying to stop myself from daydreaming about Imperials on the beach in Jaco.

The best blog of the month had to have been the one about fighting urges.

July
This month was busy, and included several more trips back to Michigan, most notably for Jill and Josh's Wedding in Mackinac Island. I also hosted Jenny, a 20-year bestest, and Brittany, Katie and I dragged our guys to see Feist at Ravinia in the Park. The weather was perfect, and summer was in full swing.

The best blog of the month had to have been the sensitive one about a friend's stepmother who is ill, putting everything in perspective.

August
As is typical, this month was full of fun outdoor activities, such as Lollapalooza, Camping in Northern Michigan, the Air & Water Show, and my cousin Maureen's gorgeous wedding in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco over the long Labor Day weekend. I had a minor flood from the condo upstairs' renovation, but I survived. All in all, a fantastic end to a Summer to Remember. Time for college football to begin!

The best (or most popular) blog of the month was clearly the one about the half of a $20 bill I somehow ended up with. (It is still in my wallet).

September
Besides my Georgia Bulldogs starting the season at #1 (which sadly, was short-lived), this was the month of weddings. Starting with my cousin's, I then attended two family-friend weddings with Brett, and we danced, drank and partied with his family and their hilarious friends. Watching the Bears struggle at the end of each game made me realize that you win some, you lose some. I hosted a fantastic Method Party, and went to several Cubs games (back when they still had hope).

Without a doubt, the best blog of the month was the one where my colleague saved a man's life with his ding dong.

October
Starting the month off right, Brett and I went to Atlanta to visit my friends, tour my hometown, and introduce him to my Dad. We had a blast and even saw the Bulldogs win vs. Tennessee, and I got to spend time with most of my Posse and Lauren and George and it was all just perfect. Back in town, we saw a few concerts this month, including TV on the Radio and the Jimi Hendrix Experience. Sadly, though, October will be remembered mostly as the month I was laid off from work and took some time to get over the sadness of it all. Writing this helped.

The best blog, except the one saying goodbye to my job, was the one that recounted my hectic business trip to NYC.

November
We voted this month, and I couldn't have been more proud to live in Chicago—and to have voted for the person I believe in—than now. Braving the cold, we had a huge group tailgate in Evanston for the OSU v. Northwestern game and that day I believed mostly in spiked apple cider and pocket-sized hand warmers. I interviewed like mad for a few weeks and was supremely motivated in the job search. I was still optimistic that something would hit before Thanksgiving.

The best blog, from a writer's perspective, must've been the one where I moped about being unemployed.

December
The month has been busy personally, not professionally, and I have used my extra time to play Santa and an Elf, get creative with my job search, spike more apple cider, plan Brett's 30th birthday party and use frequent flier miles to book an obscenely early in the morning flight to Atlanta for Christmas (I missed all delays at ORD, it was a Christmas miracle!) There are group plans in the works for New Year's Eve that include a party at a warehouse that used to be Al Capone's speakeasy in the 20s, so I'm busting out the costume bin to find my flapper gear once again. And, I'm still braving the cold and wind to revel in the gorgeous holiday decorations that this city sports this time of year.

The best blog of this month is likely the one where I fought off a reality TV producer who wanted to audition me for a show he was doing. I don't make this stuff up. Apparently my relationship status as of late rendered me unacceptable casting; not that I was actually considering it. Unless they'd pay me. Right?

Thanks for a wonderful year. I'm a tad choked up just thinking about all of what I've experienced in 2008.

A year of ups, downs, awards, loss, laughs, cries, memories, music, challenges, new friends, old friends, family, love and 220 blog posts.

You've been a fantastic crowd, and I hope you'll join me in the new year as I tackle 2009 (and all that comes with that) head on.

Until then,

Happy New Year!

Stuck in the Middle with You

I have officially published 280+ blog posts, and I can't believe it hasn't occurred to me yet to write about this yet.

Let's chalk that up to to timing, shall we?

This time of year, it is all about Christmas (or Hanukkah) and New Year's. Nothing more, nothing less.

And I get it, alright?

But, some of our parents got freaky in the months of March or April (spring fever, anyone?) and therefore, a few of us unlucky ones have a birthday that is square in the middle of the holidays.

And, don't go telling me that would be so great because:

a) you were never in school on your birthday

b) you are not working on your birthday, likely

c) all those presents at once? egad!

Because the truth is, it is hard.

As I get older (eek, it keeps happening to me!), the pain lessens, but seriously, it is tough to have a birthday that is wedged perfectly, symmetrically, evenly between Christmas and New Years.

For you geniuses, and those of you that went to Math Camp (Laura!), this means my birthday falls every year on December 28th. Three days after Christmas, and three days before New Years.

What does that mean for me?

It means that when my birthday hits, people are:

a) out of town

b) tired of eating too much fattening delicious food

c) over the whole "presents thing"

d) saving up for New Year's Eve

e) not interested in buying you a drink, they're hungover and broke

f) who are you - you're not Baby Jesus - why do I care?

So, the bottom line is this. It sucks.

And, even as I age past 30, a few birthdays past 30 that is, I still feel like it is a lousy time to be saddled with a birthday. I have never had cupcakes for the whole class on my birthday, I have never had a pool party birthday, I have never gotten to spread the gift haul out over the course of a year, I have never known what it was like not to be wedged between two more important holidays.

I will say this. As an adult, it is nice to be at home (or on vacation with my family) celebrating the "holidays" while we tack on my birthday at the end. I appreciate that. I realize it is far better than being stuck at work in an office with fake "happy birthdays" and bad store-bought cake.

I get it.

But, I urge you all (you June birthdays especially!) to recognize the hardships we late December birthdays have endured. It has been rough. Tough. Painful. Touch and go, even.

The one saving grace is this: (ok, it is a few things)

a) my Mom and Dad have always made it a big deal no matter what month it was

b) they even chose "birthday paper" instead of the leftover Christmas wrapping paper

c) they hid the birthday gifts until the morning of, to build suspense

d) I got to eat off the red "You are special today" plate every year

e) it is still in that time of year when we eat whatever we want and that includes two pieces of cake

So, I'll be ok. I'll survive. I'll even manage to make it a whole "fun day for us all" if you insist.

But, just remember. Don't ever, under any circumstances, combine gifts. Don't try to pass that off on us, we're smarter than that. It doesn't matter that you spent more this way. That whole "I thought you'd get more this way" shenanigan is not lost on us.

We know we got screwed, and you know you got off easy. Does this look like a kid who wants to be messed with?


Yes, today is my birthday, and now you feel so guilty that you're obligated to say something. Anything. Just put it in the comments and I will feel so loved.

Just don't use green or red wrapping paper when you do.

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out

It's Christmas. The season for thinking kind thoughts about those we know, love and read daily.

In case you for one split second thought, "my, that Colleen seems so normal and well adjusted. I bet her family is sweet, calm and lovably vanilla." I offer you the below as evidence to the contrary.


This was a self-timer family photo (plus my sister's beau, George) that we took before Christmas Eve mass last night. Are we normal, slightly strange or really, really off-center?

And, how does the poor reindeer feel to be used like this?

Would little Ralphie be mortified or proud of us?

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good 'jazz hands' photo!!

Early Riser

While waiting at O'Hare airport at an ungodly early hour on Tuesday morning, I had a few basic observations that I'd like to share with you. It only seems fitting. Consider them my gift to you.

• Everything is easier to navigate at the airport if you arrive at 5 am. It is quiet, empty and peaceful.


• The TSA people are not crabby yet at 5 am, and that alone is worth getting up really early. The man practically helped me put my boots back on. Seriously.


• When they de-ice the plane three times before you board, and once before you get to the tarmac, it is a tad bit disconcerting. And, it smells pretty strange when the fumes get pumped into the air vents before takeoff.


• The airports HAVE to be the only place left you can find that printer paper that is all connected with the tear-off holes on each side. Those people are ready for just about anything—if they need a "Welcome Home, John!" or a "Happy Birthday, Mom!" sign, they're ready at a moment's notice.


• Coffee is the only thing I'm ready to put in my body before boarding a 6 am flight. And even that doesn't help when the alarm went off at 3:20 am.


• ALWAYS check which Chicago airport you're flying out of—a trip to O'Hare, only to find out that you need to be at Midway, and then getting rebooked back onto a flight at O'Hare will ruin your day. And your husband may find clever ways to rename Midway (MDW). This wasn't me, but I am so sorry for my friends!


• They must put something else in the air when they pressurize the cabin for takeoff. Seriously, I can't even stay awake long enough to make it to the end of the tarmac. Are we being collectively drugged?


• No matter how old I get, there is something so nice about being picked up at the airport by my Mom. I even forgive her for taking a photo of me as soon as she got out of the car to hug me (evidence below). I would rather have had her grab my suitcases, but I'll let her slide.

I got lucky enough to get out of Chicago before the delays hit O'Hare and people had to wait hours and hours to get out of town. And, I arrived without incident in Atlanta, where the "low" temperatures are about 50.

NOT complaining.

Merry Christmas to me! And to you, of course. Especially if you work at TSA or United Airlines.

Hoping Santa Arrives Early

Today was a good day, as unemployed days off in the middle of December with a huge storm forecast for tonight go.

I heard back from a company that I'm dying to work for, and while I wasn't quite right for the one position, they liked me so much that they want me to come and talk to some other people for another position on what sounds like an even more interesting account, and I'm going in tomorrow at 1 pm.

This is the part where I must admit that I jumped up and down in my bedroom (the only place in my apartment that doesn't currently drop every single call I make) and actually let out a "whoop" that would have scared small children if I were the type to keep small children hanging around in my apartment.

I realized I haven't shared with you the photos from my friends' Ugly Christmas Sweater Party last weekend, so here's the best. Brett and I were in the front of the "portrait" and clearly were going for "serious faces" while the back row went with "jazz hands." We're grown-ups, I swear.


Ok, now that that's done, back to today.

Much to my surprise (since when do eBay and UPS ever do you any favors?), the two long-awaited packages came that are the final two parts to a very complicated, but extremely thoughtful, gift for Brett's birthday this weekend. With not a minute wasted, I tore open the packing boxes, put the entire gift together, and wrapped it all up with shiny non-Christmas paper and matching ribbons. We Christmas-week birthdays get sortof ticked off when people do the "it's wrapped in Christmas paper but it is really a birthday gift, I promise" kind of thing. Trust me.

More to come on the sad state of affairs when your birthday is wedged in between Christmas and New Years next week.

Then I placed the gift under the tree (the Christmas/Birthday rule doesn't apply when it comes to placement of the gifts until the giving happens, especially when you want your tree not to get lonely), and I figured now would be as good as time as any to share the photo I took last week before my gifts were all shipped off. Here you go. My little tree, with the bright star on top that I cut off inadvertently. Not in real life, just in the photo, silly.


Finally, I ran to the store for the final ingredients (culinary and otherwise) to complete Brett's birthday surprise tomorrow night. We're having the party at one of my favorite bars, Matilda, and the owner is so cool that he's offered us 50 free drink tickets and I can bring my own food (hint, hint) so I will be stopping by there tomorrow if the snow will allow that.

So, I'm bought, wrapped, lists made and ready for tomorrow's culinary expedition, which will now come after my interview. Woohoo! Yep, there it goes again. That outward burst of excitement.

After the fun weekend we have planned, if I have any brain cells left, we're celebrating Christmas early here together, and then I will leave him to his holiday with his family in Michigan, and I will head south like a snowbird to my family in Atlanta. I'm looking so forward to time with them, and my mom's mini-cheesecakes, not necessarily in that order.

Can you tell my mood is significantly better today? I can barely type as fast as my little brain is going today, and it is all good news. Thank you, Interweb, for the kind words, support and good vibrations. It's working!

Even the 10" of snow we're expecting tonight can't dim my bulb. This was the view of the lake from my apartment on Tuesday, and it will be even whiter out there tomorrow, if what Tom Skilling says is true. And, isn't it always? (Chris, you are nodding, aren't you?)



And, as the final sign of my mental improvement, I haven't given dirty looks to any unlit holiday decorations* today, so I'm clearly on the up and up.

*See Tuesday's post if you have no idea what I'm talking about.

Headed for a Shrink's Couch

I would love to be writing a new blog post every day, telling you all the latest and greatest adventures I've been having.

But, the truth is, there is not much to tell.

Most days the greatest accomplishment I make is to actually shower before about 5 pm. And, if I watch one more HGTV show, I may start demolition in my already-remodeled kitchen, just to give me something to do.

I drag myself out of bed, eat a bowl of cereal, watch the news while I check emails, touch base with a few people, re-send emails that people are clearly ignoring, look in on LinkedIn, poke around on Facebook and talk to my Mom.

Lunchtime signals an exciting milestone, and something to do. Dishes to put away. Crumbs to clear. Trash to empty. It's bigtime!

And, then the afternoon drags.

Today, with the huge downfall of snow, I did a lot of gazing out the window, watching it pile up, amazed at how quiet the streets are when they are coated with sticky, powdery snow. With the recession at full tilt, even the snow plowers are quiet, so it took several hours before there was any city employee action on my street today.

I drive myself crazy wishing, waiting and hoping. Knowing that at this point, nothing is going to hit until January at the earliest, I've resigned myself to that fact, but now what?

Now that the presents are all bought, wrapped, nestled under the tree, photographed for my Mom, and then today, shipped to Atlanta and Tampa for their recipients' delights, now what?

I have already planned, organized, emailed, evited, and plotted some surprises for Brett's big birthday party this weekend, and all that is left is a little more surprise-making (including flour, sugar and icing), which actually may fill most of the afternoon on Friday, knowing my less than stellar culinary skills.

I'm so bored that I even put those types of activities on my electronic calendar on my phone, just so it feels like something is going on. I put "laundry" and "grocery" and "clean" on my calendar for crying out loud. The calendar that is just a wide open expanse of time.

When Brett finally gets off work, if we have plans to hang out, I drive him bonkers with my incessant chatter—realizing that the only person that I spoke to that day was my doorman, or the convenience store guy in my building, or the parking garage attendants.

Today, I found myself making small talk with the UPS Store workers just because, hey, I'd showered, and was feeling chatty.

My clothes are clean. Organized. Folded. My apartment is clean. Organized. Dusted. My Facebook profile is clean. Organized. Updated. My brain is empty.

If there was every any doubt that I'm a great project manager, communications specialist, planner, strategist, organizer and worker bee, I hope that this time (and these stories) obliterate that kernel of doubt. Because it is clear that inactivity makes me crazy.

C.R.A.Z.Y.

Oh, and the shadowed person in the building across from me that I was just certain was staring at me for upwards of 15 minutes while I made dinner tonight?

Yeah, that was an unlit Christmas tree.

Shoe Crazy

Am I a cynic or a realist?

I keep seeing this commercial:



and all I can think of is:

How would I ever end up with matching pairs?

Would they be in my size?

And, wouldn't that dent the car?

This, my friends, is what happens when you're a trained marketer/advertiser with far too much time on your hands.

Someone take the remote away. Now.

Not to Be Generic

In an attempt to cut costs any way possible lately, I have abandoned my brand loyalty to some key household and beauty products, just to see.

It is amazing how much more expensive the name brands are, and as a marketer, I know that most of that cost is in packaging/design, advertising and agency fees (eek!). So, I'm not a fool, I can buy the store brand and it will be just fine. Right?

Not so fast.

Do not, under any circumstances, buy generic toothpaste. I know, it sounds so sad and pathetic that I've taken to giving up my Colgate Total for the Walgreens brand, but my toothpaste was $4.99! A tube! With no free toothbrush! So, I broke down and for $1.99 got the Walgreens brand that says "Compare to Colgate Total."

Only if you have no taste buds. The stuff was more like ground up drywall.

So, that's off the list. I'll use travel tubes until I can stand another trip to Walgreens.

Body wash, however, is just soap. In a bottle. For your body. That is easy—White Rain makes a line of body washes that smell really nice and are only $1! Yes, one buck. To squirt that stuff on the loofah makes me feel like a frugal shopper.

No need to splurge on Dove or Oil of Olay or whatever fancy pants body washes they have these days. They all do the same thing, and as long as it doesn't smell like a floral garden in a nursing home, I'm game.

I've long been a fan of Excedrin Migraine (for those pesky ones that hang around for days) and it is comprised of Aspirin, Ibuprofen and a little dash of caffeine. The brand name, however, brings the total up to something horrific like $12 for the big "value size" bottle.

But, the Walgreens brand is exactly the same ingredient makeup, with no brand name (or agency, eek!) to pay off—so it is more like $4. Done.

Let's examine a few other products. Heck, chime in in the comments if you wish. Save a gal some cash!

Trash bags? Brand name only. I don't want my ooky stuff leaking all over my legs as I walk the bag down to the trash chute.

Bottled water? No thanks. I prefer tap water chilled in my Brita pitcher.

Toilet paper? Brand name only. The other stuff only belongs in a road-side gas station bathroom. Gross.

Soda? (or for my southern readers, Coke?) I'd have to say, There's nothing but the real thing, baby. Keep your Shasta and Cola away from me.

Dish soap? Generics are fine. I'm not tasting it, rubbing it on my girl parts or showering in it. It can be Housewifey Brand for all I care.

Detergent? This one is tricky. I'm hugely affected by smells, and clean laundry is one of my favorites. You can smell it now, can't you? That favorite t-shirt fresh from the dryer? It is imperative that this stuff smells good, but many brands are good. I just buy what's on sale.

But, against my better judgement, I bought some cleaning supplies at the Dollar Tree next door to my Target. Big mistake.

The "Johnny Fresh" toilet bowl cleaner smelled like a hospital. A dirty one.

The "Fabuloso!" surface cleaner smelled worse than the offending counter-top-mess that was there before. No thank you.

The "Lemon Fresh" furniture polish smelled like I'd robbed a lemonade stand and used an industrial hose to spray it all over my apartment.

Lesson learned.

Not to be generic, but sometimes you get what you pay for.

(Which is probably why my supply closet is filling more and more up with the Method products. Such delicious smells, good for me and the environment and such cool packaging. I think I'm a brand advocate. But, the stuff is pricey! I need a job to keep my closet full of their stuff.)

Rolling the Dice

In the age of online social networks, online job boards, online recruiting, online job seeker communities and online unemployment filing, I figured I'd resort to the online world once again.

So, here goes. I'm rolling the dice. Being open. Vulnerable. Honest.

I'm still looking for the right job. In this tough economy, bad time of year and holiday season, it has been tough to get interviews, tough to get good leads and even tougher to get calls back. In the rare instance of a successful connection, it is tough to get them to make a decision on a job quickly, even when the candidates are right, ready and anxious to start working.

I have officially sent resumes to, applied for jobs at, interviewed at and made contacts with the following agencies, most to no avail (listed in alphabetical order):

Abelson-Taylor
Anthem
Biersma Creative
Bluedog Design
Corbett
Cramer-Krasselt
Current Lifestyle Marketing
DDB
Design Kitchen
Draftfcb
Egg Strategy
Element 79
Euro RSCG/Euro RSCG Life
Evolution Point
Hoffman York
HSR Business to Business
iCrossing
Interbrand Health
Laughlin Constable
Leo Burnett
MarketSense
Momentum Worldwide
Ogilvy
Point B Communications
Razorfish/Avenue A Communications
Remedy
Rivet
RPM Advertising
S2 Marketing Communications
Schawk
Slack Barshinger
Upshot
Wunderman

Here's what I'm hoping. I am hopeful that one of the hiring managers, talent scouts, or recruiters at one of these agencies will get a Google Alert or a ping that their agency's name was posted here, and will look me up. I'm hoping, dreaming, praying that one of them will contact me and will be interested in talking to me about my experience.

I've got 10 years in this business. Ten years representing clients and managing their accounts. Ten years learning and perfecting integrated marketing communications. Ten years developing brand strategies and plans to invigorate or invent brands. Ten years dealing with the challenges of ROI, media plans, deadlines, flexing budgets, internal marketing groups, external agency partners and vendor contacts.

And, believe it or not, I still love this business.

So, if there was ever a time for me to strike it rich in the employment lottery, the time is now.

Come on, Internet, let's make this happen. If you (yes, you) are reading this and you have a friend, an aunt, a neighbor, a past colleague, a cousin, a lover or a postman who knows someone in this business, please let me know. If you have any "in" at any of the above agencies, now is the time to make the call, send the email or check the Rolodex. I'm begging.

I'm antsy, my condo is spotless, my files are color-coded and organized, my (meager) Christmas shopping is almost complete, and my Tivo has given up on me. I'm running thin on funds and even thinner on patience.

I need a job, and need your help to find it. In fact, I want more than a job, and maybe that's my problem. I want a career step. I still have the optimism and the faith that this search will land me in the right spot, in the right company, working on the right business and making a difference.

Thanks for indulging me. I assure you that if I do find a job, you will be graced with funny stories, life observances and commuting sagas to make the posts I've dedicated to this sorry search worth it!

I have faith, blind or otherwise.

Until then...I do what I've been doing best.

I wait.

Plus One

Oh. My. God.

It has come to this.

I open my Facebook account today, and have a new message in my inbox. And this was it.

--
Hi Colleen,

I am a TV producer in New York and I am looking to profile several single women who have been a bridesmaid many times over and who are now ready to finally be a bride.

At this juncture, we are looking to showcase one woman in her quest to find the right man to walk down the aisle with. Yes, it's a bit like 27 Dresses. The subject should be outgoing and have a close network of friends and family who share the common goal. Can you tell me a little about yourself? Family? Friends? Your job? How actively involved are the people close to you in your dating life?

If this sounds like it may be of interest to you or someone that you may know, or if you would simply like to hear more about it, please reply to this message. Thank you and I look forward to hearing from you.

Thanks,

Phil
Executive Producer, Kingfish Productions
--

First of all, how did this guy find me? Did he see my "Weddings and More Weddings" Album on Facebook? Has he been monitoring my status updates that say "off to a wedding" or some other helpful clue? Has he been stalking me on the Interweb?

Now, I fully admit that I have been a bridesmaid like a gagillion times. I have been to trizillion weddings.

I have worn light pink, dark pink, light pink with dark pink, grey, navy, black, and brown dresses. I have had to have every one of them altered, and have had to pay through the nose for the added 10 inches of fabric that constitutes "extra length."

I have bought dyed shoes in brown, black and taupe, and have sported heels, demi-heels and near flats.

I have worn my hair down, up, half up half down and somewhere else in between.

I have had my nails filed, buffed and painted in a variety of "approved shades" to match the other ladies.

I have been the MOH (maid of honor for those uninformed), the COB (cousin of the bride), a reader, a greeter, and the token sorority sister, college friend, childhood friend, Chicago friend and tall friend.

I have stood at the front of the congregation on the far left (tallest to smallest), on the far right (MOH duties prevail), on the far middle (a bell curve was desired) and everywhere else in the row of beauties.

I have entered the church, one step (slow down!) at a time, to trumpets, violins, piano, organ, keyboard, a three-part harmony, and a choir.

I have carried floral arrangements ranging from the delicate to the monstrous in spring, summer and fall hues of pink, purple, blue, orange, yellow, red, white, peach, maroon and green.

I have danced the Macarena, the Electric Slide, the Shag, the "high school dance with shoulders apart," the Posse Dance, the ZTA Sisters dance, the Two Step and even participated in the Limbo.

I have flown to weddings, bachelorette parties, engagement parties, bridesmaid luncheons, post-wedding barbecues, showers, showers and more showers.

I have bought presents off the registry, from a small boutique, from a huge department store, from a local gift shop and from the Internet.

I have a registered login and password to TheKnot.com and WeddingChannel.com, NOT to plan my wedding, but to buy presents for brides and grooms.

I have loved all of it, by the way.

But, does all of this qualify me to be on a reality show? A sad over-produced television program not-so-loosely-based on a successful movie with that chick from Grey's Anatomy in it? Always a bridesmaid, never a bride?

I'd be mortified.

But, wait.

Maybe I could register? And hold a huge TV premiere party where people have to send back a pre-stamped RSVP card, bring a guest, sit at round tables according to small place setting notes, eat chicken or steak, dance to a local band, drink too much, make out with my cousins/friends/college buddies, crash in a hotel nearby and bring me gifts?

Now, for that, I'll RSVP yes. Plus one.

**The photo above the post is from my friend Liz's bachelorette weekend at the lake. Somewhat mocking tradition, and somewhat paying homage to outdated and unflattering fabrics, we all brought and wore an old bridesmaid dress, fixed our hair in outdated and unflattering fashions and put on hot pink (or mauve, as it may be) lipstick. Liz bought a wedding dress on eBay for $5 and sported it with style. We held a mock bouquet toss and even took group photos according to the hue of the aforementioned offending dress. Always a bridesmaid? Absolutely.**

Bowl Me Over

It was a neon lit room, with sparse out-of-date and ugly decorations. The only ones present were those with me.

My hair was a solid color of offensive orange, puffy on the sides and parted dead in the middle. My eyes were brown, chocolate almost, and I was wearing what appeared to be plastic black-rimmed glasses. My shirt was bright yellow with no pattern and dorky short sleeves and my pants were blue solids and about two inches too short. People were calling me Coach, and I'm not quite sure why. I was quite a character, to say the least.

But, man, could I bowl.

In a riverside dive bar called The Boathouse the other night in St. Joe, Michigan, I was one mean Wii bowler.

I got strikes (more than one in a row, even!), spares and the occasional good spin on the ball. The ball steered clear of the gutters, and I had power in my roll that I didn't know I could possess. I reached the incredible personal best score of 170 and did a little dance around the bar on the sticky hardwood floor.

My arm, however, the next day was so sore that I'm pretty sure I have no spot on the Pro Bowling League.

Seriously. It still hurts to wash my hair.

Something is wrong with that picture, besides the multi-colored outfit and orange split part hair.