A Hella Weekend

The boyfriend and I flew to Oakland a couple of weekends ago for a friend’s wedding. Leo was a groomsman and we bumped into the best man at the airport en route. The best man and I switched to our Nor Cal lingo as soon as the plane landed on the wet tarmac. 

“It’s hella raining out here,” I said looking out the tiny window on the other side of the old man to my left. The not yet retired gentleman had reminded me earlier in the flight of the sinner I was for, according to my parents, "traveling as if I were married." He had asked if Leo was my husband and, with a small hint of shame, I responded  that he was only my boyfriend.  We didn't speak much after that, primarily because he fell asleep after downing a Coke and a bag of chocolates.

Anywho, the best man followed my lead by saying, “It’s going to be a hella wedding.”

“Yeah. I hope it’s not hella cold,” I replied.

We were laughing our way to the baggage claim when we walked past a stand selling tee shirts.

“I want that one,” I told Leo, reading the article of clothing that said, “Hella Tight.” 

I slowed down to a stroll, skimming the shirts to see if any of them were worth their inflated price. I've been wanting an original Oakland tee since last May when we walked down Piedmont Avenue.  That's where I saw one on a mannequin that read, “I Hella <3 Oakland,” but didn’t find my size. Instead, I had to console myself with a hot pink number with the word "Oakland" printed in navy letters from the airport--how lame. As I scanned the selection this time around, I overheard a hippie-looking customer with a beanie and flowered dress tell the seller, “That is ridiculously rad.”  I walked away laughing because I had added another authentic Nor Cal phrase to my vocabulary.

Ready to assimilate, we hit up the car rental place and drove off in a ridiculously rad new Ford Focus hatchback. There was hella traffic to the city of Lafayette where the wedding was going to take place so we didn't make it to the church rehearsal. Luckily, though, we made it to rehearsal dinner where the margaritas were so ridiculously rad that I blew fire out of my nostrils.

After helping the bride fill party favors with candy in her suite, Leo and I drove in the rain to the town of Walnut Creek where our cheaper hotel awaited us. The ridiculously rad worker had phoned Leo earlier to remind him that the office closed at 9:30. Although it was nine when we arrived, we thought the lobby had already closed because the door was stuck due to the recent paint job. As soon as I was in our room, I changed into my pj's to get comfortable only to hear that the boyfriend had an ice cream craving. I hella didn't want to go but changed my mind when I thought about taking a late night drive in the rain in a foreign town. So I threw on my boots, grabbed my umbrella, and headed to the car feeling like a child up to no good. We drove into the deserted street and passed the ridiculously rad outdoor mall someone had recently told us about, with window-shopping only stores like Neiman Marcus and Tiffany’s. Leo turned right looking for CVS since Google Maps said we had missed it. When he finally parked, I felt like Mary Poppins walking towards the store with my umbrella in my hand except I was wearing polka dot pajamas. Leo couldn't decided between two ice creams and as he paid, I found discounted candy corn from Halloween for the hella price of $.27! We walked out of there like giddish children already high on sugar.



A shout out to my sis in Oakland and my friend in El Sobrante! Woo, woo!!

We drove to the church the following afternoon where Fall was hella present. The rain had ceased for the meantime and it wasn’t as cool as I had expected. We saw a dead reindeer on the side of the road next to a construction vehicle on the autumn-like boulevard—wet streets, mostly bare branches, brown, red, and orange leaves, grey sky. We made a quick stop at McDonald’s because we knew we wouldn’t be eating again until hella late. Then we turned onto the church street where traditional American homes were tucked behind a sea of autumn leaves. After a beautiful ceremony where the groom only had eyes for his bride, we checked into the hotel where the reception was set to take place.

May God bless him, I mean them.

Once in our four-star rated hotel room, I changed into the hot little burgundy number I found at a chinito store at the mall for thirty dollars. It comes right below my ass but makes up for the length in the long sleeves. The seams at the neck and wrists have gold sequins and the sleeves have slits that reveal my arms. I kept my eye shadow neutral so I could wear rouge that matched my dress. Then I put on my Jessica Simpson strappy heels and lathered my legs with shimmering lotion for a post-summer glow. Looking ridiculously rad, we hit up cocktail hour.

Most of the guests were already in the room sampling free drinks and appetizers. I ordered the same cocktail as the girl in front of us had (I have no clue what it was but it was hella good) and we made our way to an empty table where the few people we knew started gathering. A So Cal friend stood next to me and told me that I looked very nice, emphasizing the word very. Feeling hella good about myself, I sampled chicken and a caprese salad on sticks. Then I had a ridiculously rad martini alongside a pleasant conversation with the best man’s parents about their journey from Spain and Panama to the United States. It was then that a hotel worker escorted us to the main ballroom where the party was about to get started.

My first impression of the room was that it was hella small. I searched for the dance floor because I planned on being on it the entire night, provided the music lived up to my standards. I saw the DJ so I knew the floor must be somewhere. And that's when I finally spotted the 12x12 carpetless section in the middle of the room. It was then that I knew it would be a crammed night. Leo and I found our place settings and zigzagged to the other side of the dance floor to lucky table number one. Not only were we the first ones called to grub, but the cake table was right behind us. I noticed that it also had a candy bar so I stood up to steal a gummy worm. The florist was doing last minute touches on the cake when she saw me. She noticed that I had changed from the ridiculously rad black and turquoise peplum dress I wore for the ceremony. Bent over the table she said, “You’re a teacher and you’re wearing that?”

“I’m not teaching right now, am I?” I replied, then walked back to my seat biting the head off my gummy worm.

Didn't capture the entire dress, or piece of dress, but that's all right. This way, I can wear it again for the holidays :)

I didn’t get mad or offended. Are you kidding me? It was ridiculously rad! Her words fueled my inner goddess. It was the best compliment I could have gotten.  Except that it wasn't. During dinner, another groomsman called me stunning or beautiful in front of his wife but that wasn't all. After the first half of the party, Leo and I took a potty break. When we got back, an eccentric lady in her seat stopped me by taking a hold of my arm. It was a female I had spotted inside the church with a red flower in her head and a black and white striped skirt.

“I just wanted to tell you that you look gorgeous from head to toe,” she said. “You remind me of me when I was younger.”

“Thank you,” I said with all honesty. It's a hella tight feeling knowing you made the right wardrobe choice.

We spent the rest of the evening up and down. The DJ forgot that half of the party was Mexican and only played the groom’s nineties rap for a good hour. When Leo heard a song he liked we were up, otherwise, we sat. At 10:45pm, the DJ announced that the party was over. He had actually gone fifteen minutes over his contracted time. I looked at Leo like, What are we supposed to do now? He spent a lot of money on this wedding for it to end so soon. Another couple said they were going to hit up a friend's room so we followed. It was a faux pas moment when the guy opened the door in his pajamas followed by his girlfriend without any make up on. Since the bride had told us to meet her in her suite in a while, we left. On our way there, Leo and I took a detour to our room because I was cold and wanted to change. When I came out of the bathroom in my pj's, Leo was knocked out. Faux pas número deux.

We were out of our room by 11am the next morning. The newlyweds were in the ballroom collecting their gatherings as we made our way to the parking lot. We had breakfast at a "Luke's" wanna-be diner in Walnut Creek (Gilmore Girls, look it up) and then took a stroll. I noticed EZ-Ups down the street while we waited to be seated and got excited for what I thought to be a street fair. I was determined to get ridiculously rad one-of-a-kind pieces of jewelry for a couple of females on my Christmas list but unfortunately, it was only a farmer's market. Leo then took me to Lafayette where he grabbed a soda.

It's fall there.

Ridiculously rad color!

I thought we were on our way to the groom's parent's house because he had invited us for posole when Leo surprised me by taking me to sister's instead. After taking another stroll down Piedmont searching for an "I Hella <3 Oakland" tee shirt, we chilled in her apartment for about an hour before it was time to take our hella tight ride back to the rental place.

Our trip had a hella creepy ending. A woman Leo had pointed out at the airport on our way to Oakland was awaiting the same flight home. That wasn't weird because anyone could've had business to take care of up north for the weekend like us. It was hella freaky, though, when she sat two seats away from Leo in the shuttle that took us to the long term parking lot once we were home. I whispered to him that he must know her which was why she was stalking him. But that wasn't the worst part. When the bus pulled up to her car, I noticed that the vehicle next to hers looked just like Leo's. I let the coincidence go when the shuttle started again only to stop one second later to drop us off. Leo's car was the one parked next to the woman's. I looked at him wide-eyed in disbelief. I wanted to let her know that I was on to her game so I said, "You were on the Oakland flight on Friday too, weren't you?"

"Yes," she replied. I thought I saw a smirk as she loaded her luggage into her trunk.

"Oh, were you at the wedding too?" I asked, hoping she'd say no so I wouldn't have to get the cops involved.

"No," she said, without offering any further details. See, hella creepy.

I said good night, got in the car, and told Leo to drive around in a hundred circles so he could lose her.

Our hella weekend finally concluded with a ridiculously rad meal from Taco Bell.

Until next time, Oak Town. 
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Fast forward to December 25, 2012.

Thanks, Jackie! I hella love it!!!