Helllloooooo, 2011...

... and goodbye, 27 Dresses in Cleveland.

Yes, that's right. I'm breaking up again. But this time, it's not with a boy. This time, it's with my blog.

It's been a great ride, 27 Dresses, but I feel like this is for the best. For both of us.

I mean, I used to be so much more attentive. Remember when I used to write to you every single day? And how I used to so look forward to the time we'd spend together, as I'd write yet another post about a dismal date while watching the latest episode of The Bachelor? I just don't covet that time together any more. In fact, I dread it. And, probably most importantly, I used to be so much more honest with you. I don't like hiding things from you, 27 Dresses, but I just can't open up to you like I used to.

Now please don't blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong. It's not you. It's me. Well, actually... it's us. We just grew apart.

No hard feelings, ok?

And if you *really* want to get in touch with me, you know where to find me.

(Just don't be mad if I screen your calls. Because you KNOW I won't be deleting your number anytime soon.)

***

In all seriousness, readers, it has been a wonderful ride here at 27 Dresses in Cleveland. Thank you so much for your support and laughs over the years. But it's time for this little ol' blog to close up shop to open up internet space for some other up-and-coming professional bridesmaids.

The best part about having this blog has been the wonderful friends I've made in real life. So if you've met me in real life, don't expect me to disappear just because my blog has! And, well... if we haven't met but you're just DYING to know who the REAL Always a Bridesmaid is, drop an email to cleve27dresses@yahoo.com and I might just tell you. (Though I think it's sorta fun to keep it a mystery, no?)

Smooches! And thanks for a very fun ride!

xoxo --
Always a Bridesmaid

P.S. I am well aware of the fact that you're all probably far more upset about never hearing from blogmom and blogdad ever again than the fact that this is my last post. But just amuse me, will ya? ;)

Who you callin' a ho (ho ho)?

Hey, guys! Just wanted to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

(Unless you celebrate Hanukkah. Or Kwanzaa. Or you're an atheist.)

I need to get busy wrapping presents (including, for the first time in a LONG time, some for a boy!), so I won't be around these parts too much in the next several days.

But merriest of merries and all that jazz.

I'll let you know whether I made the naughty or nice list... ;)

Sorry, boys...

... but this guy is back on the market.

(I'm assuming bachelors everywhere are drinking their sorrows away at their nearest watering hole, knowing their chances of landing that special lady just went down now that Mr. Reynolds is single again.)

But, seriously. Why have there been so many celebrity couple break-ups lately? What is it about the holidays that leads to breakups?

(Sidenote: if you ask blogmom, she'd tell you that blogdad systematically broke up with her every year before Christmas, which eliminated the need to buy both a Christmas present and a birthday present for her early January bday. Then, he'd conveniently want to get back together shortly after that, just in time for his mid-January bday. Blogdad denies this story every time.)

Have you ever had a holiday breakup? What happened?

It's the little things...

I was listening to a re-run of Rover's Morning Glory this morning, and one of the segments was about the little things men can do that really make their women swoon. The list they cited included things like "remember her mother's birthday" and "flirt with her in public."

(The number one item was "scrape the ice off her car," which is appropriate given the SnowMyGod happening in Cleveland the past couple of days, no?)

Anyhow, for any of you men reading this... I realized it *IS* the little things that make me swoon. (Especially if they come in little blue boxes. Jaaaaaaay kaaaaay!)

But, really. Here's an example: while driving the other day, I mentioned in passing how my windshield wipers were crappy and needed to be replaced. Next thing I know, the boy toy had run into the store to pick up something else, but came out with two new windshield wipers in tow too.

(I was actually so oblivious that I thought he had bought them for himself, since I really didn't even remember saying my wipers sucked.)

When I realized he had bought them for me (the next day), I thought it was the sweetest thing ever! (Or at least, this month.) ;)

(See? There's not always ice coursing through these veins of mine.)

So, ladies... tell me (and help my 3 male readers)... what little things has your man done to make you get all girly and giggly inside?

Nice package!

Have you started Christmas shopping for your special someone yet? I need ideas!

P.S. This may be my new favorite website.

Pathetic or true love?

I can't believe I haven't blogged about this yet, but can we just for a minute talk about the fact that Jessica Simpson got engaged ONE WEEK after her ex-hubby did? I mean, does that smack of desperation or just weird coincidence?

(I vote the former.)

For more deets about the story, click here.

What do you think?

Happy Friday!

I'm glad I follow my own advice...

... because it came in handy yet again!

Remember waaaaaaaay back when, when I wrote this post about never leaving your house looking like a pig because you never know when you might run into an ex?

And you know how I always say Cleveland is two degrees of separation, right?

Well, those two little nuggets came into play last week when I ran into a blast from my dating past.

Not that he'd remember.

That's right, ladies and gents. I saw Amnesia Guy.

Picture it. Third quarter of a Cavs game. I had just finished my second (double) gin and tonic and wanted to hit the little girls' room before the game let out. So I left my boy toy at the seats (which were SICK, by the way), made my way up the stairs and turned the corner to head toward the ladies room.

And there he stood. Amnesia Guy. Stuffing popcorn down his throat and wearing what some might consider a Cosby sweater. He was clearly waiting for someone to come out of the ladies' room, and after the ridiculous email exchange that went down with him last summer (seriously... if you don't remember/know the back story with him and didn't click on that link up there, do yourself a favor and go check it out now) I had nothing to say to him.

So you're probably asking, "Why are you telling us this story if you didn't even talk to him, AAB?" Well, my point is this, ladies: you never know when you might see an ex (even in a sea of 20,000 of your closest friends at an arena), so it's best to be a good scout and always be prepared.

Because while I was looking all sassy in my cropped velvet blazer and cute little booties, he... well... was wearing that unfortunate sweater. (With popcorn all over it.)

I bet he wishes *I* were the one with amnesia now.

Have you ever had a run-in with an ex when he (or -- gasp! -- you) looked like a wreck?

The best wedding I never went to

Contrary to popular blogpinion, I have NOT been to every wedding ever held in the contiguous United States.

(Just most of them.)

But there are a few that I never made my way to.

And there's one in particular I wish I could have gone to... but, alas, I wasn't born.

That's right. I'm talking about the lovely nuptials of one Mr. and Mrs. Blogdad and Blogmom. On this day 38 years ago, they got married.

Fast forward through three daughters, two sons-in-law, two grandkids (with another on the way), four cats and lots of my ex-BFs... and they're still holding hands in church and commenting on blog posts together -- nearly four decades later!

Happy anniversary, guys! Love you! (And so do my readers!)

xoxo --
Always a Bridesmaid

P.S. I think we can all agree that I was the best gift you ever gave each other, but don't tell my sissies. ;)

Whoreoween

When did Halloween become Whoreoween? I swear, Halloween is now just an excuse for girls to dress (and act) slutty. (Not that the single guys probably mind all that much.)

Me? Not so much. My rules for Halloween are simple:

• I can't be uncomfortable. (One year, The Murse and I went to a party as the Unibomber and The Bomb. I was The Bomb, natch. Which meant I wore a giant cardboard box around all nite and couldn't lift my arms to drink my beer. And I needed help every time I went to the bathroom. Sidenote: my bladder is the size of a ping pong ball. That's when this rule was enacted.)
• I can't look like a whore. (Unless, of course, I'm dressed as a whore. But then how would I look any different from my everyday wardrobe? Jaaaaaaay kaaaaaay.)
• I can't look like an asshole. (Same ex-boyfriend, different costume: one year, The Murse and I went as the couple who had the Halloween party we went to every year. Except he was the wife and I was the husband. I wore Carhartt from head to toe and a drawn-on goatee. I looked like a reject from Extreme Makeover: Lesbian Home Edition and immediately swore -- after seeing pictures -- that I would never go out for Halloween again looking like an asshole.)

Since then, I haven't really had many opportunities to do a couple's costume with a significant other because, well... I haven't really been dating someone at Halloween. And it looks like this year won't be much different, as the boy toy will be working when I will be partying. Sad face.

(However, I am pretty juiced about my costume idea. And, no. I'm not divulging.)

Do you have a favorite couples' costume that you've worn (or seen) over the years? (One of my personal faves is when my sis and her now-hubs went as Cameltoe: he was the camel, she was the toe.)

And what's your take on this whole Whoreoween phenomenon?

Don't move to Panama City!

At least, don't move there if you want to stay married.

A new article was just published citing America's 50 divorce capitals, and Panama City topped the list. Lucky for me (and those of us who live here), Cleveland didn't make the cut.

(Not that it matters much for me... since you have to actually get married before you can get divorced.)

Is your city on the list? And do you really think where you live has something to do with whether you stay married?

P.S. What's up with all the celeb divorces being announced this month?

FourStalked

I've been FourStalked. And have lived to tell the story.

Picture it: I'm out cocktailing with a gal pal earlier this week. I checked in to the restaurant we were at on FourSquare. Then we continued dishing about the boys in our lives, and I didn't think twice about it.

But then, he came through the door. My FourStalker.

(As it turns out, he was a guy with whom I'd chatted on Twitter, and he seems very harmless and nice. And older gent who's a little lonely, maybe. But harmless.)

Anyhow, he saw that I had checked in to a place across the street from where he was, so he came over to meet me in person.

Now, he knew who I was, but I had no idea who he was because he doesn't use his picture on his twitter or FourSquare profiles. But because he knew what I looked like, he sidled up right next to me (my back was to him), asked the bartender what I was drinking and bought me a glass of wine. And nothing for himself. (Or my friend!)

I thought it was really weird that he was buying me a drink and not himself. But then I heard, "Excuse me. AAB? I'm FourStalker. I just wanted to come meet you in person and say hello because I saw you were here and I was across the street."

(Now before you get all Dateline: The FourSquare Killer on me, I must reiterate that this guy was completely harmless. We'd chatted on twitter on a number of occasions. But, again, because he doesn't use a picture there, I had no idea who he was when he initially approached.)

So... on to the best part of the story. It'd be one thing if this older gent came in dressed and looking like George Clooney. (Or Matt Lauer.) I could get into that. But noooooooo. This guy was most definitely NOT cut from that same cloth. (Literally.) And I believe what he looked like is probably best described in pictures.

Behold.

A man who looked EERILY like Richard Dreyfuss:


Wearing a shirt that was half hunting gear, half Tommy Bahama (Note: I couldn't find a shirt that even slightly resembled the one he was actually wearing to share with you... which is probably a good thing, since now your eyes won't be bleeding for the rest of the day):
And who happened to be sporting one of THESE (except it was thinner and longer... *that's what she said*):


Wow. I've never been hit on by a guy with a rat tail before.

(And, God, I hope I never am again.)

Happy weekend, loves!

From The Mouse to The Winner

I can now officially say that I dated the nation's Bachelor of the Year.

That's right, ladies. (And gents.)

The Mouse won Cosmo's Bachelor Hunt!

Check out the story here. And thanks to everyone who voted for him! :)

Meet The Mouse (and vote for him!)

Anyone who's been reading this blog for any length of time knows a few things:

• I've dated my share of frogs (though, admittedly, they weren't ALL frogs -- maybe just not right for me)
• Every guy I write about gets a nickname so as to protect the innocent (and the guilty)
• I've never "outed" a guy on the blog with his real identity (though The Greek did out himself after that whole saga went down)
• I really try to stay friendly with (most of) my ex-es because there's no point in not doing so
• Most of the guys I date are pretty metrosexual and often HOT
  

Which brings us to today's post. About Cleveland's hometown hottie, Ryan "Mickey" McLean, who's up for this year's Bachelor of the Year for Cosmo magazine. Cute, no?


Whether you realize it or not, many of you already know Mickey. How so? Well, he's been written about here before. Mickey is The Mouse.

(You can read all the posts I've written about him here. And don't worry; he pre-approved his "outing" for this post.)

Anyhow, Mick is a great guy (who just happens to be delish on the eyes) and I'd love to see him win this contest. So won't you help him? Just click on this link to cast your vote for Mr. Ohio. You can vote once per day until October 10.

C'mon ladies. Let's do this.

Like Lucy & Desi, Ross & Rachel, Sonny & Cher

Are you (the better) half of Cleveland's most interesting couple? If so, Metromix wants to hear from you!

The site just announced its "Most Interesting Couple" search, seeking 10 of CLE's most interesting romantic duos.

Think you've got what it takes? Check out the nomination form here.

(And if you win, tell them AAB sent ya.)

Good luck, you crazy kids!

Take a hint!

Several weeks ago, I got a return visit from a blast from the past: The Groundhog. And, dear readers, it seems as if I was spot-on when I gave him that nickname.

Why? Because that mother effer ALWAYS pops up.

It started with an email from him, which simply stated that he had been cleaning out his emails and came across one from me from a couple of years ago, and that he just wanted to touch base.

I had no intention of responding.

But then he called. TEN MINUTES AFTER HE SENT THE EMAIL.

(Psycho much?)

His voicemail expanded on his email, and then also alluded to the fact that the last time he reached out to me, I didn't respond. And it's true. I documented it here, peeps.

(Please note the date of that last non-correspondence too. Almost two years ago!)

Anyhow, after remembering that this was the kind of guy who would not give up if I just ignored him (as evidenced by that two-year-old post I just linked to, which was par for the course with The Groundhog), I emailed him back the next morning. I was cordial enough, but told him that I was dating someone now... and then also reminded him that he had tried to (or did) date not one, not two, but THREE of my girlfriends over the years.

Now, I know what you're thinking... why was AAB being such a bitch to a guy who was seemingly just trying to catch up? Aaaaaah, innocent readers. You see, this guy ALWAYS had ulterior motives. (You can ask any of the three of my friends he tried dating.) So I knew I had to nip it in the bud or he would keep popping up, as only a good -- errr, bad -- groundhog would do.

(FWIW, when we were "talking," our regular conversations consisted of the following topics: how women should always -- and only -- wear thong underwear; how he broke up with a girlfriend for getting fat; what inappropriate places he would get romantic with his ex-GFs; how women only ever wanted to date him for his money; or how he thought he was the funniest person alive. Riiiiiiight. So now you know why I wasn't interested in dating him.)

I won't get into the nitty gritty of the few emails that flew back and forth, but I will tell you these phrases may or may not have been used (by him): "I certainly didn't reach out to be insulted"; "You're catching me off guard"; and my personal fave, "You are a ball buster."

Suffice to say I don't think I'll have to worry about The Groundhog popping up any time soon. :)

Have you ever dated a guy who just wouldn't go away?

Sh*t blogdad says

Dear readers -

Please take a gander at Blogdad's comment on this post and let me know your thoughts.

(My thoughts? I would rather naked skydive off the Terminal Tower than have this happen. But I'm leaving it up to you.)

xo -
AAB

Two much

I can not, for the life of me, believe I have been writing this blog for two years. And to think it all started with this little post.

And re-reading my one-year anniversary post brought out some LOLs (as well as some OMGs).

So what's happened since then? A few highlights:

• I became an auntie -- TWICE!! -- to the two sweetest little nuggets this side of the Mississippi. (No, I'm not biased. They ARE that cute.)
• I came up with an awesome mixer party idea. (But never executed on it. Whoops.)
• I visited Mr. X after months of playing pen pal.
  
• I met the Hottest Guy Ever. (Who may or may not be interested in finding himself a hot guy.)
• I discovered my sissy's cyber-sleuthing skills.
• I told my 2009 dating life to EFF OFF.
• I've been to zillions more weddings (though I haven't actually been IN any of them... shocking!) and had crazy bachelorette and wedding extravaganzas. Like this one. And this one.
  
• I participated in a crazy fun game of love.
  
• And I decided to stop writing about any potential boy toys for fear of karma screwing things up.

So, yeaaaaaahhhhh... that last one is a bit of a bummer, since it was the whole reason I started this blog in the first place! So, I'm sorry if 27 Dresses has been less interesting to read since then. (Apparently misery loves company and you bastards must LOVE to commisserate!) But it HAS made my dating life more interesting (in a good way!), so I suppose there might be something to this whole karma thing after all. So can't ya just be happy for me? ;)

But never fear. I've still got plenty of ridiculous dating stories to share. In fact, there's one brewing right now involving this guy. Let's just say I gave him the right nickname waaaaay back in the day.

So what's happened in your love life this year?

Love in the air

I work in downtown Cleveland, which means one thing this time of year: AIRSHOW. I sweartogod, those planes fly like two centimeters in between office buildings during their practice runs in the week leading up to the actual airshow.

And you know who flies those planes?

Pilots. Hot ones.

You see, every year at airshow time, I'm reminded of the streak of pilots I met back in my mid-20s. Some were commercial pilots. Some were military pilots. Some were private pilots. ALL were cute. But in the span of one Spring/Summer (when The Murse and I had briefly broken up), I think I met/talked to three or four different pilots over the course of a few months.

And my favorite one was probably the one I met at an airshow. Picture it: my friends and I were at Shooter's (back when I was still dumb enough to attempt going there during Labor Day weekend) and saw a few airshow pilots walk in wearing their full airshow regalia (jumpsuits, hats, sunglasses, boots... think Top Gun).

We chatted them up for the nite, tried on their gear (no -- legitimately tried on their hats and stuff... that was not a euphemism for something else, pervs) and fell head over heels in love. (OK, maybe that was just me.)

And I actually kept in touch with my Airshow Guy for several months after we met. We talked on the phone and emailed pretty regularly. (This was pre-texting and Facebook days, peeps. Aaaah, when life was easier.) I think he even sent me a card or two. But it obviously never went anywhere. (And he's now living in the south with his wife and two kids. Which I learned after he Facebook friended me a couple of years ago.)

But you know what? I still think about that mother effer every year now when the airshow comes to town.

And then I think of the streak of all the other pilots who made their appearance that same summer. The summer when love was in the air.

(For the record, I've also had this same thing happen with certain names. Remember this?)

Have you ever had a specific profession that just seemed to be your "type" for a while? What was it?

P.S. Happy Labor Day, loves! (And if you make it to the airshow, tell the boys I said hi.) ;)

Facebook official

First of all, before you go getting too excited about the title of this post... no, I am not "in a relationship" on Facebook.

(In fact, I have always maintained that I will never broadcast my relationship status on Facebook. You know... unless there are pictures of me plastered all over the place in a big white wedding gown to verify that the relationship did, indeed, "take.")

But that leads me to the point of this post... I've noticed lately that a lot of peeps are jumping into being "Facebook official" mere weeks into dating someone.

Is this a new trend? I dunno. Seems like jumping the gun a little if you haven't even had a turn of the calendar yet, no? I mean, I have seen FB friends post "in a relationship" when they hit their one-week dating anniversary. Or after they rekindled with an ex- (only to be "single" again a couple of weeks later).

So what do you think? Have you noticed peeps changing or updating their relationship statuses more frequently than in the past? Or are my FB friends just more willing to broadcast their love to the world?

(Disclaimer: I've been known to be sketchy about defining relationships ever since I had my heart broken by The Divorcee, who told me he loved me after just three weeks of dating. So maybe I'm not the best person to judge...)

Let me know what you think. Just don't tell me "it's complicated." ;)