Category Archives: Friendship

Race Recap: Marathon #16, Nashville, TN: Country Music Marathon

Several weeks after having a blast at the Little Rock Marathon, I packed up my running gear again and headed down to music city – Nashville, TN!

Anticipating a car ride under 7 hours, I was a bit frazzled with my close to 9 hour commute.  Plans of visiting the Country Music Hall of Fame were left in the traffic and construction somewhere on Highway 65. Blasting country music, I finally peeled into a parking garage near the expo, several hours later than anticipated. I booked it inside, scooped up my race stuff, a few gels, and my Mizzou girls Marlena and Christine.

Back in the car again, onward to our hotel, and then straight to the Grand Ole Opry. Because my God, if we’re in Nashville, we’re going to the Opry. I had just enough time to change and leave my stuff in our room before we were off, barely registering the fact that our alarms were going to go off at 3:00 a.m. the next morning.

Yes, I said 3:00 a.m. Shit.

guitar

Unfortunately, country music singer George Jones had passed away earlier that day. All of the performers honored him in some way, singing his songs and saying kind words about their experiences with him. And then the coolest thing ever happened.

Y’all….frigging Brad Paisley  surprise showed up. No Shit!

Not only did he honor George Jones, but he sang several acoustic songs, including “This is Country Music.” I love Nashville! As soon as the lights came back on, it was back to the hotel where we hurried to lay out our race stuff, set alarms, and were off to bed.

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All too soon it was (groan) 3:00 a.m. But then (double groan) we looked out the window and realized…it was raining.

Hard. Shit.

Ok, ok, I’ve been here with the weather before and probably will be again. But after we drove to the public park area, took the free shuttles to the start, and started walking towards the crowds, we realized we were soaked to the bone almost two hours before we were supposed to start running. Somehow we managed to sweet talk our way into the lobby of a hotel where we dried out and had use of a bathroom. We were able to connect with another Mizzou friend, Laura, who was kind enough to direct us over to a building that gave us an indoor bird’s-eye view of the start and supply us with garbage bags.

Because that’s a super hot look if I ever saw one.

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And then we were running in the rain. Dodging puddles and hills. Though we didn’t have much of a choice on running through either the puddles or the hills. I’m certain Nashville is a very pretty city, but I admit I spent much of it with my eyes on the road trying to determine the deepest spots in the road to avoid. Each time I landed a foot into a small swimming pool, my shoes felt heavy with rainwater. I knew later in the course my shoes would feel like bricks when this happened. And they did.

Yet all the while, thoughts of Boston. Prayers for the family and friends of anyone  affected by the tragedy. Noticing all the runners visibly displaying their support for Boston. Smiling at all the spectators, there to cheer us on with no fear despite what had happened. So much pride for marathoners. So much pride for our country.

This is not a group of people who can be easily messed with.

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Cutting off my knee brace (wet from the rain, it wouldn’t stay up) and making it through the marathon turnoff, it eventually just became…laughable and fun. Here we all are, on this hilly course, in what is supposed to be a beautiful city, getting completely soaked and just trying to avoid massive puddles, praying our sports bras don’t leave too many chaffing scars on our bodies (Oh – just me worried about that part? Huh.). Passing through a neighborhood, a loan woman sitting on her balcony cheered her head off for me as I ran by. I couldn’t stop smiling.

And then the damn sweeper vehicles were behind me.

Wait, what? The 7 hour cutoff is supposed to start after the last person crosses the starting line. I was on pace to finish anywhere between 6:15 and 6:45, depending, and I was in a middle coral at the start. So, what was up?

Lightening, apparently. They had stopped letting people through the turnoff point but now it was safe. No worries, we all trucked on. But later, at mile 18, I was the last one they let through an aid station. Everything was then closed down behind me.

Feeling terrible for the people a few hundred yards behind me who never got to go on (at the same time feeling selfishly lucky I did get to go on), I spent the next two miles running while constantly looking behind me. Because I was now the last one. And the damn sweeper vehicles were gaining on me.

Now we all know I sort of came in last place at another rainy and hilly marathon. And I was totally fine if that happened again. But the vehicles were getting closer and closer (as in directly behind my ass) and I knew while I could maintain my current pace, at 20 miles in there was a fat chance I could pick up my pace.

So I stopped running, walked over to the sweeper vehicle, and point-blank asked if I was going to get my 7 hours.

Yes, she said. Sorry for crowding you, she said. So long as you finish in 7 hours you’re fine.

And after that, I never looked back. Blissfully, it stopped raining for a couple of miles before it started downpouring even harder than before. I ran on, passing a few people here and there. And made it in to the end, finishing my sweet 16th state, in Tennessee!

Marlena and Christine, who had amazing races themselves, came back to pick me up before a quick shower and meeting up with more Mizzou girls, Angie and Jessica (who also had kick-ass races) at The Stage on Broadway.

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Nashville is truly a great city that I have decided absolutely requires another visit to really appreciate all of the bars with all of the great live music.

The next morning I said goodbye to everyone, grabbed breakfast with Laura (who got a PR on the course, by the way!), and hit the road.

And crossed off state #16 from my list!

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Race Recap: Marathon #15, Little Rock, AR: Little Rock Marathon

Little Rock, Arkansas is not a town I would have thought to visit if not for the 50 States Marathon Club. However, this past Friday I found myself waiting for a flight at O’Hare, headed to the state I would complete my 15th marathon in. And I have to say - if you want to cross Arkansas off your list, the Little Rock Marathon is the way to do it!

Due to delays and multiple gate changes, a bunch of us started chatting. Turns out, a majority of the plane was booked with runners headed to the event. I met two guys also trying to run all 50. For both, Arkansas would be their 10th state, getting them into the club. I also spoke with a very nice couple from Canada who chose Little Rock due to the huge medal.

And my God, is it a huge medal! But more on that, later.

Finally arriving, I met up with Nicole M. and we headed over to the expo. Leading up to marathon weekend, the organization was exceptional – but seeing it in person really showed off the magnitude of what this race is made of! The theme was “Lucky.” Backdrops, country music, and an impressive decor tied it all together. We picked up our packets and headed back for dinner and a drink before bed, but not before running into Dave Mari in the hotel lobby!

expo

The day before the marathon is traditionally the day we go exploring. Playing the role of senior citizen, we purchased an all day pass for the trolley tour around Little Rock. For a whopping two dollars, we could ride all day, learning about various historical sites. After snapping a few photos, we walked over to the capital building and checked out the inside before heading back. Dinner near our hotel and an early bedtime, we were all set for our 4:30 a.m. wake-up call.

Trolley

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I can’t say enough nice things about this marathon – catering to us back of the pack runners, the early start was two hours before the normal start. This meant more time on the course without the crowd and ensured an exciting finish line experience. Part of being a back of the pack runner means accepting that sometimes the food and the fun are all packed up by the time you come strolling in. And that’s ok. But it was awesome knowing there was no chance of that happening at this race! And knowing we had eight hours to finish took away a lot of nerves.

Starting at about 27 degrees, we took off into the dark, soon catching a sunrise over the first bridge. Up and around the town of North Little Rock, we headed back into Little Rock all before the main crowd was fully lined up. The course itself is scenic in a few parts and also winds through some run down parts – but this event was more of an experience vs. a scenic destination. We trekked up a lot of hills, stopped for (seriously delicious) pizza around mile 17 at the Mich Ultra tent, and shuffled on.

Sunrise

Somewhere around mile 21 or 22 we stopped on the course at a spectator’s home-made beverage station. This was no ordinary beverage station. This one just so happened to be serving mimosas. We figured “Hell, why not? Cheers!” A mile later, and we arrived at a similar set-up. Only this time we were presented with cold beer. Again, “Why not?!”

Cheers

wall

Clearly we were not concerned with our time at this point, and just wanted to have fun! We walked on, did a quick jog into the finish, and listened to the band for a few minutes before our quick walk back to the hotel with our INSANELY HUGE RACE MEDALS!

finishers

Showered, changed, and excited about another finish, we headed to the post race party not knowing what to expect.

You guys. The Little Rock Marathon Post Race Party is the coolest marathon post party I have ever been too.

Tons of food. An open bar. A dessert station. A photobooth, a DJ, and a live band! An epic party that fit into the theme of the race, it’s easy to see why this party sells out! We put our coats down and went to grab food. When we came back, sitting across from us was the Canadian couple I met in O’Hare! I also managed to run into another one of my O’Hare friends, saw Dave M. again, and even ran into Boonsom “Lipstick Lady” Hartman! A fellow 50-stater, I’ve seen her on course at other runs after reading an article about her. With all of the food, drinks, music, and friendly faces we had an amazing time.

Huge Medal

PostParty

Stopping at a bar on the way back for an appetizer and a beer, we spotted a good looking guy sitting alone. We decided to buy him a beer from across the bar and, like a gentleman, he came over to say thanks. He ended up sitting and chatting with us all evening. Turns out we bought a beer for Robert James Reese - executive producer for Runner’s World Online! He finished 19th with a time of 2:52 – a PR for him! For a guy who runs sub 3 hour marathons, he was seriously humble about his time, super down to earth, and very supportive of us back of the pack runners.

We left Little Rock the next morning with the hugest medal I have ever seen, new connections, great memories, and another state crossed off the list!

“The Book of Mormom:” a Review

What’s more fun than seeing “The Book of Mormon” at a sold out show on a Friday night in Chicago?

Seeing ”The Book of Mormon” at a sold out show on a Friday night in Chicago last-minute for $25, of course!

After reading “Under the Banner of Heaven,” and as soon as I heard the show was written by the creators of South Park, I knew I had to see it. Upon hearing the good news “The Book of Mormon” had extended its tour in Chicago, Nicole M. and I were intent on making it happen. We decided before paying full price, we’d try our luck in the rush lotto tickets drawing.

(side note: rush lotto tickets are for the first two rows, directly behind the orchestra pit. Many of the seats have limited views of the show, but it’s not terrible. They draw for tickets 2 hours before the curtain rises, and you have to be present to win. I think it’s the most amazing thing ever.) 

We showed up at the Bank of America Theater, filled out our lotto entries (careful to each select we wanted two tickets if our name was drawn), and killed time before the 5:30 drawing. Coming back in to the box office area, we realized we were not the only ones with this bright idea. It was packed.

One by one they drew entry forms. The crowd members left unnamed collectively grumbled. All to quickly, they were down to one…last…name.

“Nicole…Cast…sa…? Um… Nicole… Cassa…”

“That’s me!” (people have been butchering my last name since kindergarten. I knew the entry was mine even before she eventually pronounced it correctly).

Ignoring the glares of the crowd departing the box office, we made our way up to the ticket window and forked over $25 cash each. We weren’t able to sit next to each other, but hardly cared. I was in the front row, all the way to the left, and Nicole M. was diagonally behind me. But we were winners!

Me and my winning entry!

Me and my winning entry!

We walked over to the Italian Village for some wine and calamari, then made our way back to the 7:30 showing. Check out the views of the stage from my close-up seat:

Looking up.

Looking up.

Looking right.

Looking right.

The stage.

The stage.

Right from the first song, the play was hilarious. The opening song is “Hello” and was even performed in the 2012 Tony Awards:


We follow a pair of Mormons sent on their two-year mission trip. Elder Price, a devout Mormon, had been praying to the Heavenly Father to be sent to his favorite place in the whole world: Orlando! In what seems to be a cruel joke played on him, he gets matched with Elder Cunningham, the class screw-up. Instead of sunny Florida, the two are sent to a destination much farther from home: Africa.

Arriving in a place suffering from various epidemics and let down by unfulfilled promises from previous organized religions, the tribe has developed a snappy phrase set to song and dance. A phrase that literally translates to “F*** You, God.”

You can why it’s important to know who the writers are before purchasing your tickets.

Equally both parts offensive and laugh-out-loud funny as the most entertaining of South Park episodes, “The Book of Mormon” had me both cracking up and dropping my jaw in shock through the entire performance. It crosses just enough lines to poke fun at organized religion, yet without taking it too far so that it’s not funny anymore.

The songs are hilarious. The lines incorporate actual Mormon facts that seem pretty “out there.” A quick turn around to look at the audience showed about 10% looking appalled and the other 90% laughing so hard they were near tears. I was part of the latter crowd (see what I did there? Latter crowd? Latter… Day…?)

If you enjoy Broadway and South Park makes you laugh instead of offending you, I highly suggest getting tickets to see “The Book of Mormon!”

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Adventures of a Personal Attendant

This past weekend, I witnessed an amazing couple get married. I also had the pleasure of being the bride’s personal attendant on her wedding day. However, I have to admit – when she first asked me, I had one major question on my mind:

What the hell does a personal attendant do?

So, I relied on the internet, got a few suggestions from friends, and put a list of duties together (then added more alcohol to that list, figuring if everyone was a little buzzed they wouldn’t notice if I forgot anything).

Prepared with champagne and orange juice for mimosas on Saturday morning, a tote full of supplies, and far too much luggage, I left speeding along 90 headed towards Madison (turns out there’s a lot of traffic leaving downtown Chicago. Weird). I skipped checking in to the hotel and arrived ten minutes late the rehearsal, only to discover I was locked out of the church.

Finally breaking in, I was able to snap a few photos before leaving to check in to the hotel. Where a shuttle was waiting to take us to the rehearsal dinner. Which drove away while I was throwing my luggage in the room. So I hit the road and managed to enter the wrong address in my GPS, not realizing it until I was half way to a different restaurant. So of course I was ten minutes late the rehearsal dinner, and ended up at the kids table.

Which was perfect. I like kids. Especially if they’re cute, like these ones. And turns out when you’re exhausted from work and driving and breaking in to churches, cute kids are exactly who you want to be around. Without having to put any effort into conversation, I found out how Ms. Thompson was the best teacher ever because she let the class skip math that morning. And let them skip morning routine! Three cheers for Ms. Thompson!

Not to be outdone by his sister or Ms. Thompson stories, the gentleman to my right informed me that at age 11, he was much more world traveled than his younger sister. I had to ask where his favorite place ever in the world was. He answered with Captain Bill’s Seafood Restaurant. Red Lobster comes in at a close second.

The kid’s got good taste. Those biscuits are good.

The next morning was an excited flurry of hair spray, make-up, and smiling faces. I headed over to the reception location to pick up a bag of rose petals that were supposed to be in the cooler…only to discover they were in the freezer, placed there on accident by the groom.

Shit.

Planning on keeping it all a secret (Chad, buddy, you could have gotten away with it had you not mentioned it during your speech at dinner!), I tried to save the day. Turns out, you guys, there are a ton of websites on how to freeze flower petals. But none on how to unthaw accidentally frozen ones. Weird.

That one minor incident was, from what I could tell, the only thing that wasn’t exquisite about the day. And even that turned into an endearing story.

The bride was breathtaking. The entire wedding party was a fun crowd. The reception was beautiful. It truly was perfect. And as far as my personal attendant duties, I was grateful for my tote full of supplies and helped out with whatever requests came at me.

My advice, if you are ever a personal attendant, is to role with the day, be prepared for anything, and carry a big bag.

And my advice, if you want to become more world traveled, is to hit up a Red Lobster once in a while. Those biscuits are good.

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On why you shouldn’t try making chili for the first time ever when you have a migraine.

I recently was invited to my first ever chili cookoff!

(most likely I haven’t been included in one before because everyone else knows I can’t cook and my Chicago friends have yet to find that out. Well. Had yet to find out).

Upon being invited, I expressed concerns about the whole “cooking” thing via Twitter and a friend emailed over a recipe. “It’s great,” he said. “It will totally win,” he said. So I went into the idea of this cookoff contest with total and utter confidence.

And then the night before I found myself wandering around the aisles of Jewel with my tattered shopping list, on day three of a migraine, squinting my eyes under the fluorescent lights just wanting to escape and start the stupid cooking process already.

So, honestly, can you blame me for buying actual cloves instead of “garlic cloves?” Or grabbing Chile Chipotle Pepper instead of “Chili Powder?” I mean, we’re lucky I remembered the lean ground turkey, for crying out loud.

When I got home, one of my roommates (hi mom!) expressed her frustration over the errors of my ways. But with my head feeling as though it were in a vice, I refused to head back to Jewel, made the executive decision to forgo cloves of any kind, and decided Chile Chipotle Pepper was a fine substitute for Chili Powder, thank you very much.

So we got to work (well, I got to work. My mother swooped in to try to salvage the process all while yelling that chili powder was probably something like baking powder, so without it the chili would not be able to cook normal, and how could I miss the word “garlic” in front of the word “cloves?”).

(by the way, mom, according to Mr. Google chili powder is just a spice. So there).

Pretty soon I was crying.

No, not because of my mother – I was soaked in tears from chopping the onions. No shit you guys, I always thought that was an old wives tale! Once the rest of the process was done, and the crock pot was full of wonder and goodness, I went to bed with visions of winning first place.

The next morning was like waking up on Christmas! I excitedly ran downstairs, anxious to see how it turned out. We all tasted it. And I know y’all are going to be shocked to hear this, but it was actually quite good! I loaded the chili into my car and made my way to the city of Chicago, where seven other crock pots awaited me in the competition. Game on.

My chili on the left, staring down the competition on the right.

My chili on the left, staring down the competition on the right.

Many bowls, toppings, and a full ranking system later, and it was time to tally the ballots. The chili was ranked on taste, texture, and appearance.

And I totally won first place!

I hope you didn’t actually believe that last sentence, you guys. Because the truth?

My chili came in dead last place.

And this is why you shouldn’t try making chili for the first time ever when you have a migraine.

At least, that’s my excuse for losing.

This is what dead-last-place-migraine-chili looks like.

This is what dead-last-place-migraine-chili looks like.

The good news? I actually really like my chili, so leftovers this week are going to be amazing. And I can only improve from here. 2013 is so going to be my year.

Game on.

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Race Recap: Marathon #14, Grand Rapids, MI: Metro Health Grand Rapids Marathon

The reason behind the fantastic company I kept for state #14 traces all the way back to state #7, the Salt Lake City Marathon.

My friend Jeff and I were taking on the beautiful mountain course (read: I was wheezing and hobbling through high elevation, while super fit SLC people breezed past me, trying their hardest not to rudely stare and gawk) and later caught up with Elizabeth. You all may know her as @fiftyforbilly on twitter, which is how I first “electronically” met her.

We all finished the SLC Marathon, slung our race medals around our necks, and headed out that night to a local duelling piano bar to hang out and celebrate.

Me, Jeff, and Elizabeth post SLC Marathon

Since then, Elizabeth and I kept in touch and took a look at our list of states yet to complete. We realized we still each had to do Michigan and a great race we heard about, the Grand Rapids Marathon, was coming up in October of 2012.

Why not do it together?

So we signed up, made travel arrangements, and arrived in Grand Rapids, MI on Friday. We immediately decided to show up for the early start, as we were not as prepared as we each would have liked. We figured we’d relax, check out Grand Rapids over the next day and a half, and put one foot in front of the other on Sunday morning…

…into Sunday afternoon…

…but hopefully not into Sunday night.

We started out the trip just walking around the cute downtown areas, heading to a bar that had about a zillion beers on tap, and finishing off the evening with a cocktail at a 27th floor sky bar overlooking the city.

Saturday we made plans to walk around, hang out at the expo, and relax before our early start time the next morning.

Couldn’t resist buying this!

Please note the random hand holding a pickle jar, on the right.

Early to bed and early to rise. Sunday morning found us lined up an hour before the official gun went off, joining many other runners and walkers taking advantage of the early start.

The first few miles were in the dark, and we were gifted with witnessing the sun come up and the fog slowly lifting. We kept things easy, walking when we had to, chatting some, and running single file when the lead packs eventually caught up to us.

The course and the weather were ideal. It’s a fast, scenic, fall marathon that is great for those running their first marathon all the way up to those trying to qualify for Boston. The volunteers are great, the water stations are plenty, and the participants are friendly.

But it wasn’t easy. There were some painful parts. And I’m pretty sure I got super crabby about running shuffling at mile 21. Right about then I wanted pizza. And a coke. And french fries. And a sign that said “FINISH” to be in front of my face along with my damn medal.

But we speed walked / jogged through it, ran through that finish sign, got our medals, and got a hand shake from the race director at the end.

With Don Kern, the race director.

Finishers!

And then promptly showered and went out for nachos and beers.

Priorities, you guys.

State #14 is done!

Top Five Friday: Top 5 Things I’ll Miss About Wisconsin

I’m moving back home to Chicago next Friday and I couldn’t be more thrilled! That being said, there are going to be some things I will, of course, miss about Wisconsin.

Some things are replaceable, like everything in the area that has become familiar for me. Local hang-outs, the gym, where I grocery shop…hell I’ll even miss my regular spots to fill up my gas tank, and to grab Chinese take-out.

But then there are those things I’ll miss about Wisconsin that you just can’t duplicate in Chicago. Behold the Top Five Things I’ll Miss About Wisconsin!

5. Cheese Curds.

If you ever make your way to Wisconsin, find the nearest neighborhood bar, and order some fried cheese curds with a side of ranch.

Feel free to thank me later.

4. Badger Games.

As a Mizzou alumna it’s hard for me to admit this, but Badger football games are second to none. I’ll never forget my first game, freezing my ass off, realizing every single person was clothed in badger red, while trying to figure out just what the hell the student sections were chanting at each other.

3. Capital Beer.

Happy hours just won’t be the same without whatever seasonal Capital beer is on tap.

2. Insanely Amazing Friday Night Fish Fry.

Avenue Bar on E. Washington. Enough said.

1. My Friends.

Yes, I am aware at how cheesy that sounds. But I’ve been up here for exactly one decade, survived more online dating horror stories than I thought possible, job changes, career changes, boyfriend changes, and everything in between. I started my marathon journey, my novel, and attendance at a wonderful book club.

And you just can’t duplicate the people who have been there for it all. I will miss them dearly!

Race Recap: Madison Mini Marathon 08-18-12

I love running.

And then all of a sudden I’m out of shape, wheezing, sweating, swearing, and I hate running.

And then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I start loving it again.

The reasons I end up on the positive side of my love/hate relationship are not always the obvious ones: health, weight loss, fresh air, free beer at the finish line, super cool medals (though those are some great reasons). It’s more than that.

It’s the people.

It’s Nicole M. coming up from Chicago to run with me this weekend. It’s Emily M. meeting us at the expo (Happy Birthday Emily!), it’s meeting up with Renee, Katie, Steena, and many others before the race. It’s discovering the Fellow Flowers movement. And then it’s hanging out with the Parkers and the Jacksons post-race with shiny medals (that, p.s., double as a bottle opener!) around our necks.

The weekend was perfect for a 1/2 marathon. The outside air was crisp in the early morning but not so cold that you needed long sleeves early in the race. We woke up early and headed to the Union to relax before the start. For anyone thinking about the Madison Mini, I highly recommend the V.I.P. section: food and coffee in the morning, along with a private gear check and restrooms. After you finish running a beautiful (though hilly) course, you’re welcomed back to plenty of food options, private massages, and premium beer. I easily got my $30 worth of “extras.”

As far as the run? Well…let’s just say I’m out of shape, back to the heaviest I’ve ever been, and haven’t been running lately. So I pretty much loathed the run every step of the way. It was one of my worst 1/2 marathon times, ever.

And I’m not the least bit surprised or bothered by that.

I finished, and I had fun (before and after the “run” part of the weekend). I’ve got another medal to hang on my wall. And I had a blast with some old and new friends.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

On the course, before we got to the zoo

Finishers!

Top Five Friday: Top 5 Personal Attendant Duties

Last night a great friend asked me to be a personal attendant at her wedding and omigosh I’m super excited! She is gifted at her career, which happens to be in the wedding industry, so you just know the reception is going to be ah-ma-zing. Also, the most important thing – the couple is one of those loving partnerships us single girls aspire to be a part of one day.

But here’s the thing: What exactly does one do as a personal attendant? Having never been one before, I took to the powers and wonder of the internet to find out. There were many duties, but five main ones that stood out.

5. Organize. Everything.

When I hear the word “Organize” I get excited. If I could list one super human talent I possess, this would be it. So far, so good.

4. Help the bride get dressed.

I know how to get dressed in the morning, so I feel pretty qualified to handle this one. Easy peasy.

3. Various “go-fer” duties.

Which gives me total access to walk around with a purpose, checking out all the single dudes. This is the best job ever!

2. Hold a touch-up / emergency bag.

I’ve actually brought these to most weddings, just because. Traditionally I include band aids, hairspray, clear nail polish, nail clippers, nail files, deodorant, and breath mints. Done!

1. Make sure the bride is not stressed.

Challenge: Accepted. Current adding liquor to my touch-up/emergency bag.

I guess it actually doesn’t really matter. The bride essentially told me I just have to show up, keep her sane, and have fun.

Done and done!

Two girls walk into a bar on their way to see a psychic….

OmigoshI’msonervous.” I tend to speak rapidly when I’m nervous.

“I wasn’t earlier, but now…me too.” To tell the truth, Jen did look a little pale.

“You know, after we down this beer, everyone sitting outside on State Street is totally going to watch us walk in to a psychic, right? They will probably talk about us. About those two single girls in their 30′s going to see a psychic on State Street.” This is when I really need to learn not to vocalize every thought I process.

“Yeah. Yeah, they totally are.” Great. Now Jen looked even more pale.

And the weird thing? This wasn’t even my first psychic visit this week. But to explain how I ended up going to two different psychics, in two different states, in one week, I need to back up.

It all started Monday night over dinner with an old friend during an out-of-state work trip. While talking, I happened to mention that Jen and I made an appointment for a psychic reading in Madison, just for fun, and were going as soon as I got back.

“I have always wanted to do that.” Sarah’s admission made me feel excited about my future plans. “I used to live in this area. There’s a tarot card reader in a house just a block up the street. We should totally go.”

…why not?

So we made our way down the street to my first occult experience of the week.

Entering a home with a neon Open sign glowing in the window, we situated ourselves in the living room as directed. The woman was warm and friendly, so I felt at ease. Or maybe it was the extra glasses of wine our server kept sneaking us at dinner. Either way, I was comfortable and ready to hear about whatever visions she saw.

For a tarot reading, you are handed a deck of cards and instructed to think of any issues you seek clarity on, while shuffling. The psychic then cuts the deck and you pick from which half you want your reading done. I chose the left.

According to a woman in Arlington, VA, I am going to lead a long and healthy life. As is everyone in my family. I will get married and it will be a happy marriage, with 1-3 kids.  I need to focus on being more open-minded, as this person will not fit my traditional “type.” In fact, if I am open-minded I can meet him as early as tomorrow. Most likely though, I will meet him at the end of 2012 or the beginning of 2013. We won’t start dating right away, rather it will take about four months after meeting until our first date. I will be successful at whatever I do, and my book will become published. I will have a writing breakthrough mid-August.

Sarah  will be successful as a mother, wife, and career woman, balancing it all. She will stay at home with her daughter for another year, at which point she will become passionate about opening her own business and have many people reporting to her.

And we both have really great auras. I like it.

Fast-forward to sitting in a bar with Jen in Madison, WI, I took a deep breath and reminded myself how well everything went on Monday and that I had nothing to be nervous about.

We anxiously took one last sip of our beers and headed next door. And I quickly missed my warm and friendly Arlington, VA psychic.

In life, I have learned that if someone claims they “unapologetically tell it like it is,” they tend to have an abrasive personality. And this woman was no exception. We both chose a psychic reading vs. tarot cards, and handed over our phones as an object for her to touch and get a “read” off of us.

It started out ok. She definitely nailed some things on the head. Things that were so accurate it was almost scary. But then things got weird. She started responding to text messages on her phone, had our two phones switched around in her hands (we don’t know for how long, her hands were under the table), and said some entirely inaccurate things. I felt disconnected to her visions. The appointment ended with her letting us know our chakras were so messed up, it was some of the worst she had ever seen.

Oh, and by the way, for a hefty fee she can fix all of that.

…right.

So are psychic readings real? And if the whole thing is real, how do you know you are going to a legit psychic? The thing is, you don’t know. And you never will. Which is why we approached everything from a fun angle, vs. a truth-seeking angle. We had some laughs, had some drinks, and went outside of our comfort zones for a new experience.

But just in case, I’m going work on being more open-minded.

Just in case.