tinderizing.

So I officially crashed a wedding Saturday night. Believe me, it was as shocking, spontaneous, and utterly adventurous as it sounds.

It all started about a month ago when I downloaded this free app on my phone called Tinder. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, let me just say it's absolutely ridiculous, addicting to the extreme, and more shallow than the kitchen sink. I'm thoroughly embarrassed to be enjoying such a silly thing. When I first heard about it a few months ago, I scoffed in incredulity. It seemed like merely a means of 'hooking up' as the kids call it these days. A few weeks ago one of my roommates encouraged me to sign up, and said it's all what you make of it. It doesn't just have to be about hooking up. So the way it works is like so…You create a profile, which doesn't involve much creativity at all. You post up to 6 pictures of yourself with your name, age, and a 'tagline.' The tagline can include any number of things…who you are, what you're about, what your intentions are, or you can just leave it blank and be ambiguous as most tend to do.

From there, once you've taken the three minutes to set that beauty up, you get to start tinder'ing, which is basically yay or nay'ing men by the hundreds according to their physical appearance. Here is what it looks like…

Meet Andrew...

By tapping the photo you can then scroll through the rest of his photos, and then you can yay him by clicking the heart, or nay him by clicking the X. If you both yay each other, it connects you, which looks like this…

From there, you can send a message and set up a date if you so desire.

So I had been chatting with a fella for a bit and didn't actually agree to meet him until a few weeks after being in contact through Tinder. We exchanged numbers and agreed to have dinner together and then our schedules didn't collide until Saturday night. I sent him a message asking what he was up to that evening….his response involved attending a wedding in Santa Barbara. He lives in Camarillo, which is about 45 minutes away so it was a silly coincidence that he should be down the road from me when I reached out to him. I proceeded to ask him if he was tied up through the night or if he'd like to meet up after the reception. The message he sent back was classic…

He went on to quote Barney Stinson and called me Mosby, which I found to be very endearing. I agreed to go and showed up an hour later as the reception was hitting 'full swing' mode. Open bar, traditional Spanish dance, and 8 year old flower girls bustin' moves for days, all made for a very enjoyable experience. I pinned $5 bucks to the groom as I slow-danced with him during the dollar dance. He said to me and I quote "I'm sure Justin has told you so much about our friendship." I smiled and nodded as clearly this gentleman had no idea that I was meeting his friend for the very first time at his wedding. 

I was centimeters away from catching the bouquet and thought it appropriate to let that one go. The barely 5 foot-ish young woman next to me clearly wanted it more as she dove to the ground to grab it after I let it slip through my fingers intentionally.

The whole thing was so sweet and wonderful as weddings tend to be. Justin and I had a blast dancing to Icona Pop and Rihanna amongst other Top 40's jamz. I approached one of the flower girls as she was breaking it down, asked her name and if she'd been practicing her dance moves. She replied with an emphatic "No!" as she booty popped away from me. Truly wonderful. I can only hope my future daughters have as much rhythm and are just as fearless. 

As Justin and I were leaving the wedding to head out for some pool, he drops the bomb. "I never told the bride and groom you were coming." I lol'ed. Literally. The whole time as I was getting ready and heading over to the reception, I was thinking to myself, it's not really crashing if I have permission from the bride and groom. Little did I know I was crashing in the truest sense. The look on the brides face as I said goodbye really said it all. Her face as she shook my hand shouted "Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing at my wedding?!" But she kept her composure. My favorite was when the groom hugged me and thanked me for coming. You're so welcome sir. And thank you, for letting me make a very fond memory that will be a fantastic story to tell for ages to come. 

Justin is an awesome dude. Clearly very adventurous. So thanks Tinder. For 'matching' us. And for letting me cross "crash a wedding" off the bucket list.

better late than never. besties rendezvous recap.

People tend to get excited about different things. Some people get excited about donuts. Some people get excited about babies. Some people get excited about winning the lottery. Ok, most people get excited about winning the lottery. You get my point. Me over here, I get excited about rendezvouz. Ok, for reals though, how do you make the word rendezvous plural? I tried my best.

I get excited about meetings with people. People I like. I'm always making plans for grand adventures and most often they fall through. But the stars aligned just about a month ago and I got to have a rendezvous of the most grand proportions in the lovely state of Wisconsin. Truly a glorious event. Besties '09 collided for a weekend getaway that filled my heart to the brim and maybe overflowed my bladder just a little. 

The adventure began with a visit from Connie, my fraternal twin. Her velour and khaki outfit, made complete only by the unzipped fly and denim hat, was flashed from afar as she hung out the passenger side window serenading me to the tunes of sweet Britney Spears. Connie had come to rescue me from the Milwaukee airport. My life was complete. Connie, Bonnie, and Steve. Ready to party like it's 1999. It's just too bad the only witnesses to this majesty were an airport security guard and a bothered looking lady smoking a cigarette about five yards away. Shame shame.

After the heist, we headed off to Madison for a day at the capital. Little did we know, the janky Econolodge hotel room we would be staying in, would end up being the highlight of our time together. Maybe it was the hallway that smelled like weird meat. Or the sweet lady that welcomed us with her tufts of cigarette smoke in the stairway. Or the complimentary wee-fee (Sonjie's new name for wi-fi). I'm guessing it was more the company than anything but that rancid hotel room with the jizz blankets and cigarette burns housed a lotta giggles and teaspoonage. When we first arrived the three of us struggled repeatedly to get into the room. Turns out the handle lock deal had a dead battery so even the Indian gentleman manager of the joint couldn't get in with his master swiper, so he issued us a new room. We get our new room keys and head to the room. As we open the door we are punched full force by an uncomfortable warm wave of air. All three of us in unison are saying, "No, no, no…uh uh. No." As we slowly enter the room. Our friendship grew a little more in that moment of unity. Mutual discomfort does that to relationships. Later, we attempted to make some Facebook vids like old times but we just couldn't get our groove back. There was only one lucky recipient that evening. I hope she feels special.

After hitting the hay at roughly 9:08 PM, Sonjie and I wake up a few hours later to a full grown man leaping out of bed onto the floor. It was absolutely terrifying. Apparently, Daniel has night terrors. My favorite part, Sonia's response: "Are you alright buddy?" For some reason, her referring to him as buddy just really makes me giggle. He's laying on the floor looking up at us, I'm half asleep wondering what happened, and Sonia is leaning over me questioning him, "Are you alright buddy?" The whole situation was comical.

Rise and shine the next morning butt crack early. It's marathon time. Sonjie and Wan shuttle me to the start line where I freeze my nutz off waiting to get going. I proceed to run for 3 1/2 hours while Sonia and Daniel have a nap. Then they head to Starbucks for a bit. And then they magically arrive at mile 22, just when I needed them most. Sonjie hands me a hard candy (my all time favorite thing at the end of a marathon), and Daniel pulls out the chap stick. They know me too well. After hugz and kissez and a photo opp

 they head off to meet me at the finish line. Madison, Wisconsin wins the award for best spectator signs. I giggled a lot during that race. Some of the more notable ones include, "Marriage is harder," "Worst parade ever!" "Humpty Dumpty had wall issues too," and there was a small boy I saw repeatedly who had a sign that said "What does the fox say?"

After the race we take some epic photos in front of the capital

and then hobble off for some pizza. Whilst eating a little girl next to us tips her chair backwards, busts her chin, and starts crying. I'm embarrassed for her and we leave. On the way back to the car an old lady and her two grandchildren ask us to help them find the facility where they house prison inmates. But it's not the prison. It's some other facility. She doesn't know the name. I'm embarrassed for the kids and we leave. We try to help but can't because we're not from Madison and she doesn't know the name of the building for us to help her via Google. We, moreso I, hobble off to the car. It's cold and my face is freezing off.

We drive from Madison to Appleton, Sonjie's hometown. The rest of the evening was full of gigglez with good company, aka the Malmquist padres. Here are some photos to help you feel like you were there...

Life is good in Wisconsin folks. So many leaves. So much cold. Laughs galore at Oinks, the local diner-esque eating establishment. Dawn the waitress was a hoot. Her banter with Chaz (Sonjie's pops) was quite remarkable. She called Daniel Muffin and he felt so special until we overheard her call another patron Muffin. Then he was pissed. Later in the meal she comes to tell us a story about another couple eating across the restaurant. The man of the pair asks Dawn what the difference is between a sugar daddy and a boyfriend. Although I don't remember her answer to him, his reply is notable. After she responds to him he says, "Well, I'm a gigolo." Please keep in mind that this gentleman is about 86 years old with a Captain's hat on. Gigolo indeed.

This is us outside of Oinks…

The weekend will live in my memory forever. These two people will be in my life until it ends. We're getting tiny houses together. Google them. Tiny houses. Real thing. It's happening. They will always be my favorites. Besties foeva. Love you foolz.