![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'm not sure what to say about Serenity - ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ivy03 and others already covered a lot of it. Other than that anyone who has not yet seen it should. I'd like to see it again...only I'm scared of the Reavers...
It's been a rough couple of days at work. We had a client on a hyper-accelerated schedule, which resulted in me needing to take my computer home one night and working all the way through gaming. Which sucked. I am not, however, going to Mexico today. (There was an excellent possibility for awhile there that I was.)
Saturday,chuckro and I went to the bat mitzvah of the daughter of one of his parents' best friends. Sheesh. I'd forgotten to some extent the elaborate craziness of such events. The reception was...well...impressive. But Chuckro and I spent a lot of it turning to each other and saying "You see that? You know our wedding? We won't have that." His mother made us promise not to hire their DJ. Which we were already well convinced of.
We arrived to valet parking (of course). And a top hatted and white gloved young man opening the door for us. (A little much, I think.) And then the cocktail hour, which had enough hors d'oeuvres to feed a small army.
Bar/t mitzvahs tend to be schizophrenic affairs. Because, after all, you're trying to please two very different demographics. The party is in honor of a 13 year old. The hosts are 40-something. Then you get the conflict between relgious solemnity and ostentatious celebration, and weirdness ensues. The 40 minute candle lighting ceremony in which 3/4 of the guests are called up to "light" one of 15 candles (with each group introduced in rhyme and given their own theme music). The men in tuxes trying not to trip on middle schoolers running around. The middle schoolers alternately trying to be on their best behavior and acting like 13 year olds. The guest of honor and her friends eating chicken fingers while her parents and their friends have multiple-course meals featuring prime rib and squash filled with pasta primavera. The hora followed by Twister. The very uncomfortable-looking, very conservative Jews sitting at a table in the corner.
We had a lot of fun. Got complimented on our dancing (which wasn't anything brilliant, but we were having fun). Chuck acquired a hat that makes him look like either a member of the Rat Pack or a pimp, depending on who you ask. I left my light-up crown on the table. *Sob* But I remembered to take my goodie-bag...of sweatpants. I now have a lovely pair of sweatpants with the kid's name on them. They're nice sweatpants. We also were given bags of bagels at the door. Bagels?
Oh. And we've come to a crucial decision. Our wedding will not feature a smoke machine. Or a disco ball. Or flashing lights, fake flames, professional dancers who drag people onto the floor, or a DJ who won't shut up.
But many tasty desserts would be nice.
ivy03 and others already covered a lot of it. Other than that anyone who has not yet seen it should. I'd like to see it again...only I'm scared of the Reavers...It's been a rough couple of days at work. We had a client on a hyper-accelerated schedule, which resulted in me needing to take my computer home one night and working all the way through gaming. Which sucked. I am not, however, going to Mexico today. (There was an excellent possibility for awhile there that I was.)
Saturday,
chuckro and I went to the bat mitzvah of the daughter of one of his parents' best friends. Sheesh. I'd forgotten to some extent the elaborate craziness of such events. The reception was...well...impressive. But Chuckro and I spent a lot of it turning to each other and saying "You see that? You know our wedding? We won't have that." His mother made us promise not to hire their DJ. Which we were already well convinced of.We arrived to valet parking (of course). And a top hatted and white gloved young man opening the door for us. (A little much, I think.) And then the cocktail hour, which had enough hors d'oeuvres to feed a small army.
Bar/t mitzvahs tend to be schizophrenic affairs. Because, after all, you're trying to please two very different demographics. The party is in honor of a 13 year old. The hosts are 40-something. Then you get the conflict between relgious solemnity and ostentatious celebration, and weirdness ensues. The 40 minute candle lighting ceremony in which 3/4 of the guests are called up to "light" one of 15 candles (with each group introduced in rhyme and given their own theme music). The men in tuxes trying not to trip on middle schoolers running around. The middle schoolers alternately trying to be on their best behavior and acting like 13 year olds. The guest of honor and her friends eating chicken fingers while her parents and their friends have multiple-course meals featuring prime rib and squash filled with pasta primavera. The hora followed by Twister. The very uncomfortable-looking, very conservative Jews sitting at a table in the corner.
We had a lot of fun. Got complimented on our dancing (which wasn't anything brilliant, but we were having fun). Chuck acquired a hat that makes him look like either a member of the Rat Pack or a pimp, depending on who you ask. I left my light-up crown on the table. *Sob* But I remembered to take my goodie-bag...of sweatpants. I now have a lovely pair of sweatpants with the kid's name on them. They're nice sweatpants. We also were given bags of bagels at the door. Bagels?
Oh. And we've come to a crucial decision. Our wedding will not feature a smoke machine. Or a disco ball. Or flashing lights, fake flames, professional dancers who drag people onto the floor, or a DJ who won't shut up.
But many tasty desserts would be nice.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-10-04 12:03 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2005-10-05 12:26 pm (UTC)From: (Anonymous)no subject
Date: 2005-10-06 05:49 am (UTC)From: