Weekends Away: Gift-Giving Advice: September 2006 Archives

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September 06, 2006

Wedding Belle Blues

Something old? Check. (The vintage ribbon on your bouquet.)

New? Check. (It's ... unmentionable! [but rhymes with "lacy wong"])

Borrowed? Check. (Mom's diamond earrings, natch.)

Blue? Workin' on it. (He loves your big brown eyes, so is it wrong to be thinking about contacts this late in the game?)

It's all falling into place. The dress is exquisite. You've been running around and so much that the seamstress even had to take it in once. The shoes are stunning. You can actually walk in them without killing yourself or anyone else. You've found a hairdresser who won't make you look like the Bride of Frankenstein and a makeup artist who won't make you look like Frankenstein. The mothers not only like each other but have become the best of friends. You're good to go.

This leaves you free to worry about the really important stuff, like ... the cake. Not the cake itself, of course, because that was the first thing you took care of. Ever since you were little, you knew it would be chocolate, so you took special precautions to seriously date only fellow chocolate freaks, just in case. (Tall, dark, and handsome? Yep, that's your cake. Six towering layers!)

No, what you're staying up nights fretting about now is, Will he be so crude as to smash it in my face? and If so, do I reciprocate? and Is it bad form to file for divorce at the reception? What would Miss Manners do? Your frenzied, 2:00 a.m. internet searches yield nothing. And your maid of honor's response — "Listen, sweetie, I was always a bridesmaid, never a bride, and now, as maid of honor, this is the closest I think I'm ever going to come to being a bride, so if any guy, even a blind date, smashed cake in my face, I'd consider it an honor" — doesn't exactly ease your mind.

No one ever said planning this thing was going to be a piece of cake, but if anything's going to be smashed, you'd prefer it to be Aunt Trudy on champagne and not six layers of chocolate on you.

And if you think you've been driving yourself batty, just think what you've been doing to your bridesmaids and that poor maid of honor. You have the honeymoon and gifts (and the guy). They took care of you, so now it's your turn to treat them to the icing on the cake. A Visa gift card is the perfect way to say, "Now you can buy a dress you'll actually wear again."

Posted by weekends at 03:50 PM | Permalink

Why a Gift Card? Just Because!

Her birthday has passed, her anniversary isn't for another few months, and her new job is already old. She graduated long ago, the "baby" just finished second grade, and she's not moving into a bigger house. She hasn't won anything, she hasn't lost anything, and every time you ask her, "What's new?" she tells you, "Nothing much."

You've both been too busy with the business of life to slow down long enough to smell those flowers you hear so much about. Drive-thru fast food takes too long. You're shouting at the microwave to hurry up already. The hours-long phone calls of the past have dwindled to a scant handful of minutes as you're popping fistsful of M&Ms into your mouth without even thinking. Still, those few minutes are precious and the two of you manage to fill each one with as much juice, dirt, and laughter as you possibly can.

The best times are when you call out of the blue, for no real reason at all. Because it's raining. Because it's not. Because it's 8:02 p.m. Because you like spaghetti. Because it's the second Monday of the month and you're wearing new shoes and you bought six cans of vegetarian chili on sale and you hate hate hate the way the hairdresser styled your hair and you think the young guy behind the supermarket checkout counter was checking you out and you think purple may be your new favorite color. Because you saw the cutest dog in the driver's seat of a parked car and he had his paws on the steering wheel. Because because.

Her life is hectic. She needs and craves escape, but you know her well enough to know that she won't treat herself to anything without having a specific reason. When you tell her she really needs to get away from it all, she says she can't justify it. So that's where you come in, to surprise her with a personalized Visa gift card for the best reason of all: "just because".

Posted by weekends at 03:46 PM | Permalink

Girlfriend Getaway — A Weekend Away (No Boys Allowed)

When you were seven years old, you had no doubt you'd be a full-fledged, card-carrying adult by 18. You pictured yourself all glamorous with impossibly glossy lips and perfect blue eyeshadow, lazily blowing smoke rings into the narrow space between you and your incredibly cute boyfriend with the slow smile who, yes, really did look like he could star in "Grease".

When you reached 18, you confessed to yourself that you were still waiting to feel like an adult. The gloss, shadow, and smoke just weren't cutting it. And the incredibly cute boyfriend never quite materialized.

And now, even on the phhxxphxth anniversary of your 21st birthday, you can't deny it: you still want to play Mystery Date, jam your feet into multi-colored striped toe socks, and cram cheese curls into your head until your entire face is bright orange. (They're so much tastier than cigarettes.)

Of course you're not truly delusional. Sure, you still cringe when someone calls you "Ma'am" (especially if it's a boy you'd date if only you were phhxxph years younger), and you've moved on from giggling over the potential of your imagined first kiss to the reality of countless kisses and so much more, but that doesn't mean you have to kill off the giddy girl whose pulse races at the opening bars of "Dancing Queen". You know you're a woman, and for the most part you know how to act like one.

But get together with a gaggle of gal pals and what happens? Instant silliness. Even though you prefer, in your professional lives, to be referred to as "women" and insist on "Ms.", make no mistake about it — the reversion to girlish behavior is sure to follow.

This natural regression is nothing to be ashamed of, though. Rather, it is something to be embraced and celebrated — and who better to share it with than "the girls"! One really great thing about being older is that you no longer have to rely on weekend pajama-party sleepovers to get together. You don't have to answer to suspicious parents. You can indulge in your girlish gabfest your own way: A weekend away. With your own cheese puffs. And more.

Posted by weekends at 03:42 PM | Permalink

Weekend Getaway — Just the Two of You

When you started dating, you drove each other crazy — in a good way. You were literally breathless at the mere thought of getting together. You thought the world could see your heart pounding through your chest every time you met, even if it was just for coffee. Now you're together every day. The craziness isn't always good, and at times you're short of breath due not to the flush and blush of romance but from bickering over the same old stuff that both of you know you'll never settle but which you refuse to give up on anyway. (Stubborn? You? Never!)

Still, some days, on your way home from work, while picking up yet another roll of paper towel (the kind with the quilts!) and another gallon of milk (2%! It must be 2%!), you find yourself smiling at the little things that, when added all up, make the whole shebang worthwhile. You won't tell anyone (not even your wife!) that sometimes, when she's not around, you hug her old robe to your chest and smile to yourself over how quickly she discarded the silky stuff in favor of flannel, and how you wouldn't have it any other way. Or, if you're the wife, you won't confess that his corny jokes aren't nearly as eye-rolling as you like to pretend and in fact when he's just made the same old pun the umpteenth time, you may as well have little stars and hearts in those same eyes.

Face it: Like it or not, you're still in love. But now, unlike when you first met, you don't have the overwhelming need to shout it to the world. You already did that with the engagement ring and the public proposal on the Jumbotron. You both have more gadgets and trinkets than you need, and, even though people would accuse you of cheapness, that's not the reason you don't want to surprise each other with diamonds or watches that do everything from tell the time to make the bed.

That stuff is wonderful, but as the years have marched on, jobs and other obligations have eaten away at your time together, and you realize that what you really need is time together — a weekend getaway for just the two of you. (Hint: Leave the flannel at home.)

Posted by weekends at 03:30 PM | Permalink

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