One Heck Of A Cool Sistah!

It was beautiful and sunny on Sunday morning and Andrea and I snuck away for a walk up to Piedmont Avenue together. We got coffee and browsed in the shops and had quality sister conversation which is a rare pleasure when your sister has three kids. As we arrived back to my house, she gave me a big kiss and told me she loved me. If I was any smarter, I would have suspected something was going on, but instead I walked in to my kitchen to be completely taken aback by a room full of girls screaming "SURPRISE!" Ah, the naivete of a young bride.
I remember once my old boss at Sierra Designs once called me an "attention whore" (is that unprofessional or what?!) but what she didn't reaize is that I am only an attention whore when it is completely inappropriate for me to be. At times like this, when it's acceptable for me to be the center of attention, expected even, I suddenly become shy and embarrassed. It's because of this that the first words out of my mouth when I walked in were--"OH NOOOOOOO." Leave it to Gretchen to snap me into reality by shouting out "What the hell do you mean, OH NO!?"


Mom helps put on my bride-to-be sash.

I graciouly made my way around the room to welcome everyone and who should I stumble upon, poking her head out from around the corner--ANNIE! All the way from New Hampshire for my bridal shower. She had spent the whole day before wandering around Walnut Creek on her own and tested out the Motor Lodge. (FYI--the shower heads are apparently quite low so if you're very tall, you may be disappointed showering at the Walnut Creek Motor Lodge.) Anyway, I was already in such a state of disbelief that I hardly appeared surprised to see her I'm afraid.
It was really a nice little party. We had lovely pastries and fruit salad, Gretchen made her first ever fritatta which was delicious, and we had bagels and cream cheese. One of the cream cheeses had molded overnight but apparently served as a real ice breaker while everyone was awaiting my arrival. It was ages before I could make my way from the kitchen to the living room and when I finally did I was surprised all over again. I don't know where my mind was but it never occurred to me that I would find a pile of presents in there!


The girls gather round (notice the new rug that I got for my shower from my mom, Irene, Nancy and Barbara)

I'm a pretty lucky bride though as everyone who came seemed to understand that the sexy lingerie thing just wasn't my style (sorry Rob.) I did find it funny that the sexiest underwear I got came from my 87 year old aunt! And I'm only slightly embarrassed to admit that I didn't know which side was the front when I opened the Puma thong from Dina. I think everyone believed I was just being funny at the moment, however.



I know boys aren't supposed to give bridal shower gifts but Annie hand delivered a special one from my dad. Apparently he gave it to me and took it back in his mind a dozen times before he gave it to me for real. The gift was a well-seasoned cast iron pan that has been in my family for "at least sixty-five years, maybe well beyond that." Anyone who understands cast iron cookware will appreicate the time it takes to season a pan and will undersand the importance of it as well. The rest of you can learn more about it here. Here's an excerpt from the note my dad wrote to go with the pan:

"I grew up with this frying pan, and as a young man always loved using it, if only to fry one egg in the centre. It was my favourite kitchen utensil." (Notice the English spelling he used in honor of my beyonce.) "Actually, I didn't steal it from my mother. The truth is that after your mother and I were married, we visited my parents, and I EXCHANGED a brand new cast iron pan for this one. As I recall, I may have exchanged three cast iron pans, each a different size."

My father's lucky my grandmother didn't whack him over the head with one of them as he ran off with her good pans, leaving behind the chore of starting all over again. This is a classic in the Rice family folklore and my dad was not wrong in thinking that he was better off giving me the pan before I could go and "pull the same dirty trick on [him]."

Before I tell you about one of the most interesting discoveries of that day, I want you to say out loud the following word--GIGANTIC. That's right. Say it one more time--GIGANTIC. Now, how many of you pronounced the "T" in that word? Maybe you guys in England pronounced it, and perhaps a couple of you Americans did, but I'm sure you all agree that there are plenty of people who kind of slur the T in that word or turn it into a soft "D". GIGANIC. or GIGANDIC. No big deal, it's just that Americans are sometimes a bit lazy with our T's. Well, one evening Gretchen, Rob and I were comparing notes on what famous people and events share our birthdays. Being very sophisticated and proper, I announced that I share my birthday with the sinking of the Titantic. Gretchen and Rob looked at me like I was crazy. "It's true" I said, "it is." And then Gretchen, realizing that I was serious, asked me "titanTIC?" I thought she was just making fun of me for enunciating all of my T's but, and some of you may have learned this before you were 34, there are actually only two T's in titanic. All these years I thought people just weren't articulating that third T. As crazy as it seems that I wouldnt' have learned this sooner, it's even crazier that Andrea didn't learn it until she was 36! How we both independently came to believe there were three T's in Titanic I'll never know, but I'm sure glad Gretchen was around to hear it for herself when Andrea said it too.


Andrea gets busted putting three T's in Titanic

Well, as much as I resisted the attention at first, I got used to it pretty quickly. It was great to have all my girlfriends together and extra special that my mother, all the way from South Carolina, my stepmother, all the way from New Hampshire and my future mother-in-law, all the way from England were all there to share in my day. Not only is Andrea one heck of a cool sistah, she's also a darn good Matron of Honor!