I want Jesse

Lauren just asked me to be a "guest blogger" on her blog.

Now, I ask you, why would I blog on her blog when I author my own companion blog to her blog?  Could it be she needs filler for her blog and so in her desperate attempt to parlay information on her blog, she has reached out to me?  Plus, my blog has its own tab on her blog.

And, can I also add that I have nothing to blog about?  Lo and Jesse give me exactly zero information to use.  Yeah, she dragged him into my store, and now she's all threatened by the uber chemistry Jesse and I shared, but beyond that, they haven't given me much.

So, let's discuss a wedding topic we haven't yet covered.

Hairstyles.

I'm not sure what Lauren has planned for her hair on the big day.  Although given her penchant for the non-traditional and the fact that the wedding is taking place on a farm leads me to believe she might do something very casual and informal.  Which I actually think would be awesome and refreshing considering most brides today do severe up do's with tight curls.  I did suggest a nice side braid, flowing loosely over her shoulder--an idea immediately shot down by Lauren.

My own wedding hairstyle was awful.  The woman had no experience with my hair, and so during the trial run I tried to explain to her what I wanted.  I don't think she listened.  At all.  Because I ended up looking like Marlo Thomas in That Girl.  Or Mary Tyler Moore when she was on the Dick Van Dyke show.  It looks okay in some pictures, but mostly it just looks stiff and weird.  And retro.

so accurate it's scary

Also, on the way to the salon, some charged-up grandma who had been sitting on her deck, (smoking, I'm sure) blocked us from leaving our driveway.  She was in her four door sedan, and said that she had just witnessed my (now) husband speeding down the road and she wasn't having it, as apparently she owned the island and really hated us tourists.  I responded by getting out of our car and telling her that "us tourists" provided "her" island with an economy, which in turn enabled her to live there year-round.  Anyway, she chased me back to my car, and I arrived at the hair salon late, (so I couldn't get my nails done), and flustered.