Monday, May 16, 2011

my brother, the husband

there was a moment at my brother's wedding when i almost messed up.


i was the first bridesmaid down the aisle, and i almost left early, dragging a groomsman with me. i felt my face go red, and i stopped and breathed and waited. the music changed, i counted to four, and off we went to witness my little brother get married.

little is a wrong word to describe him. i don't think he's been little to me for 12 years. i went from wanting the house to myself to wanting to be cool in his eyes. i was never the cool older sister. i was the band geek, the girl who shopped too much, the second mother he didn't need. i tried to stop caring. i ached for phone calls. i relished visits in college from him - then was disappointed the lame house party with the pony keg wasn't the sorority event he thought he was getting. but as we've gotten older, i've realized how alike we are.

we're both sensitive - very sensitive. we both have an affinity for strange family heirlooms. we're both gross. we both cuss a lot. we understand the value of hard work. we're very loyal.

i've gotten the question that every single sibling whose younger brother/sister gets married first gets: "are you upset your younger brother is gettting married first?" because apparently there's a rule against that. and it's also their business.

no, i'm not upset because - and i'm not just saying this - i love my sister. i can't even call her my sister-in-law. that sounds forced. or like some bad rom-com. she is perfect for my brother. she's also my polar opposite, which i also love about her. i love my brother, but i always wanted a sister i could shop with or talk clothes or just be girly around. jack's not the only one whose dreams are coming true. she's the happy ending. and i'm so, so happy she's part of my family.

Monday, May 9, 2011

a tragedy in italy

today the cycling world suffered a horrifying loss. wouter weylandt, a 26-year-old belgian cyclist, died during a descent in the third stage of the giro d'italia.

wouter just joined the schleck brothers' leopard-trek team at the beginning of the year. he spent most of his professional career with the quickstep team, and he was one of the most talented sprinters in the pro cycling world.

his death is particularly horrible because he leaves behind teammates, fans and his girlfriend - who is five months pregnant.

cycling is a dangerous sport. i watch it whenever i can, and i'm constantly squeezing my eyes shut as the cyclists peel down some of the highest mountains in the world with nothing between them and the pavement (or a ravine) but flimsy spandex. each death, when it happens is rare - but also profound. when andrei kivilev died during paris-nice, the uci (cycling's governing body) instituted a mandatory helmet rule.

but when you're traveling upwards of 70-80 mph down a mountain road that curls like a raging river, sometimes surrounded by other cyclists, hovering at the mercy of your milimeter-thin wheels - what can you do? what can we do as fans but love the sport for what it is? wouter died during one of the three Grand Tours (the other two are the vuelta a
espaƱa and of course the tour de france). in this sport there is no bigger stage, no better example of why we love it than the sight of a cyclist in a colorful jersey whipping down a mountain, for a moment like he is flying - hands in the air, victorious.

wouter was one of the best. he will be missed. and more importantly - remembered.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

could i pull off a romper?

i don't ask myself important rhetorical questions - instead, i ask stuff like "could i pull of this adorable romper?"


srsly. adorable. (i really almost wrote adorbs. wow, sad but true.)

too bad it's $195. (wtf, j. crew?)

p.s. i called it about that casbah scarf - it's already sold out in green. really pissed i didn't buy it last week.