trippin down the aisle: on your mark, get set...

sister bandito (who, henceforth, will be referred to as g zill; short for g zilla, bandito-ized from bridezilla) is getting married. she ain't no fool, our mama didn't raise any of those. g zill said hell-to-the yes, to one of the dopest, doper than dope persons evar (but you didn't hear that from me). she found our bandito from anotha' motha'.

for immediate release:

" 'merica's favorite love team have done it and out done themselves again! you fell in love with love again with their classics "you had me at yo!" and "coco! cherry! mango! a vendor cries." well prepare to be moved again! they are "tearing-their-hair-out-by-the-roots" excited to be bringing "A Very Special Bandito Wedding" to a chapel near you this summer."

{ whoa, hold up, i need to slow my roll, for i just wrote THIS and SUMMER about a bandito wedding.

i've started a list (on a long, parchment scroll) and am adding these two words (w/my big feather pen, quill to you nerdoz ) to it. on said list are phrases that (1) i have either never said before (and wasn't joking) and/or (2) can't believe i'm saying them now regarding either myself or siblings and/or (3) potential draft picks. some recent additions have been:

:: her new last name
:: strapless dress
:: your husband
:: you're going to be somebody's wife! YOU!
:: actually, according to etiquette
:: frank cushman

ok, roll has been slowed. onward... }

the nut jobs zany love team are presently coordinating the reception party of the century themselves. team work makes the dream work! (cue epic chest bump).

our extended fam is such that i can't sneeze in the yay area without hearing 'cover yo mouf' or 'illlllllll!' from a cousin. with all these folks hooking up, making mad mix babies and constantly extending the fam, you'd think we'd know our way around the wedding block. i'm talking about weddings that bring together two people that afford themselves time to plan. time not just for ordering invitations but save the date's as well (wtf? would be grunted out by a few of the tribe members. wtf, a save the date? logic being that the invitation has a date, you best just save it) time for planning a reception, maybe even pick a theme! time to conceptualize and plan a celebration and not just plan to get this biznazz handled before the baby drops and is then doomed to an eternal existence in purgatory because its parents were unmarried sinners (you know what i'm talkin bout...mom! jokes only). what's a girl like me to say other than, sorry chuck d, i believe the hype (the hype of loooorve)!

most of our coordination experience has been limited to, finding out who can rent a cargo van (or drive their own cause we've still got a few those in our midst) so that we may caravan our asses up to reno real quick (and that's exactly how the words would roll out, real and quick). it wouldn't (and hasn't) surprise me if i were to get a call from a tribe member telling me (in fact i'm half expecting to get one now, as i've put out that out in the universe), i need to get my hair did cuz we bout to go to reno 'real quick' and have us a wedding. unfazed still, i'll be when i find myself at circus circus playing the role of a "brat whisperer" because all the parents want to be single actin'. i'll feel that it's just another day at the office (that is my fam) as i talk down some of the wild animals nieces + nephews from the motorcycle cage and tell the others to kindly keep the water pointed at the clown's mouth and not my shoes thankyouverymuch.

the love team edumacated themselves and have been systematically crossing items off their planning list. when etiquette said to send their save the date cards, they did. some of the tribe, ok, one tribe member grabbed that shizz as if it were a baton and they had suddenly found themselves as anchor on the 4x400m relay team and ran like hell. excited (as they should be), they they purchased flights for themselves and their +1 (totally fine). but then engaged warp speed, sweeping beads of etiquette from their brow (not fine) by then also purchasing tickets for the +1's three kids. and oh yeah, g learned of this second hand (so not fine). and oh yeah again, the ink on the invitations (which may or may not allow kids; they will be but they didn't know that) hasn't even dried let alone be mailed. in this race, moving ahead of g zill gets you g zola! trust.

g zill could not google how to handle this situ any quicker than it did for her to take her shoes off and get into an 'OH no you dinn't' stance. etiquette came through again. for according to it, you can address your intended guest and remind them that you are paying for each guest and that it reasonable to ask that the invitation not be extended beyond that (give an islander an inch, a sample, a freebie, a discount and we'll run the hell into the jungle with it).

my spidey sense (crucial for any maid of honor worth her weight in taffeta) told me that g zill was feeling like big worm perm,"playing with my money is like playin' with my emotions." if i've learned anything from their wedding experience thus far, it's that you do not play with either of those, for there's often plenty of one and not enough of the other.

"whatevs, it's vegas," i offer, "they (the uninvited) can find other things to do. you know...like fuck themselves."