Tag Archives: The Trifecta

“Do They Have A Palate Cleanser? That’s So Freaking Classy!”

29 Oct

Guys. Rachel and Lincoln got MARRIED.  Below is proof: Look! We’re all dressed up! There are flowers! Rachel is in a wedding dress! These are all good indications that a wedding occurred. And what a wedding it was- fun, beautiful, emotional- everything a wedding should be.

02_1423_D_S_1473Photo: © 2014 George Street Photo & Video, LLC

The quote in the title of this post was said by none other than Miss Alia during dinner. We were served sorbet between courses and, instead of acting classy, our entire table had a Sorbet Challenge in which we put entire balls of sorbet in our mouths. It was both uncomfortable and unpleasant. It was also cold.  Alia also exclaimed at one point, “It’s not NASCAR!”, but I have no idea what that was in reference to.

I was the Maid of Honor at this shindig. I gave a speech. It’s the only thing I’ve written even remotely recently and it was very hard to write- not because I couldn’t think of anything to say, but because I had SO MUCH I wanted to say. I edited. A lot. And I’ve been wanting to post something here for a loooong time  So, here it is:

“Good evening, everyone. I’m honored to be here today as Rachel’s best friend and maid of honor. For those of you who don’t know me, here is a bit of background that I hope will help you understand both me and the context of how this speech started. I originally wrote it while drinking an Angry Orchard with a pen from Foxwoods Resort and Casino in a Twilight journal. I thought Twilight would fit in with the literary theme. “Literary”, right?



This is me speeching.

Photo: © 2014 George Street Photo & Video, LLC

A wise man once wrote: “Every great love starts with a great story.” That man was Nicholas Sparks, and he wrote that in the literary masterpiece The Notebook. I’m not sure if you’ve ever heard of it, but it was made into a pretty popular movie, the ending of which made Rachel exclaim, through her tears: “Damn you, Nicholas Sparks!” in the middle of a crowded theater full of sobbing women. It was definitely much needed comic relief.


I made Rachel laugh. Not pictured: I also made both of them cry. Success!

Photo: © 2014 George Street Photo & Video, LLC

Ok, it’s time to be serious. Here is a great story about love and friendship:

My first vivid memory of Rachel isn’t actually from the first time we met- it’s from the second. When I was eight years old, I moved to a new town. During my first day in my new house, our doorbell rang and there was Rachel on my front steps, her long brown hair in pigtails and her freckles dancing on smiling cheeks. Her dad knew a family friend of ours and she knew we had just moved in and came over to see if I wanted to play Barbies with her. She lived just down the street. We’ve been friends ever since.

Rachel and I have been through a lot of firsts together: first crushes, first dates, first loves, first broken hearts. We’ve been there for each other through triumphs and despair, when things have been going fantastically and when things have been not so great. And that’s how I knew that her relationship with Lincoln was different. I remember when I first spent time with her when she and Lincoln had been dating for about two months. She was giddy. Her eyes would light up when she talked about him and she checked her phone every five minutes to see if she had a new message. She was falling for him, fast. I hadn’t even met him yet and I couldn’t have been happier for her.

Throughout their relationship, I’ve been in on a lot of secrets. I’ve helped pick out Christmas presents and seen birthday gifts before they were given. I was at work when Lincoln sent me pictures of engagement rings and I remember leaping out of my chair in excitement and being flattered that he wanted me to help with such a huge decision. A few weeks ago I helped Lincoln pick out a wedding gift for Rachel. What has always struck me is the thought they put into everything they do for each other and the feeling behind it all. I was privileged to be able to read Rachel’s wedding vows when she had finished writing them and I think they summarize their love perfectly. They make every day together special and can turn the mundane into the romantic. A few weeks ago, Lincoln posted something about him and Rachel that I loved: “At the end of the day, I always want to end up on the couch watching a movie in our PJs.”

I love that my best friend has found someone to share her life with and I actually feel like I’m gaining a second best friend out of it. A few months ago I was getting ready for a date and, of course, needed help picking out an outfit. When Rachel didn’t respond to my text messages, I sent Lincoln a message asking what to wear on a first date. I expected a line about him not knowing anything about women’s clothes, but he responded: “something cute and alluring but not too revealing. Show them what you’re working with, but not the whole shebang.” He also had color and outfit suggestions. It was very sweet. Rachel, I know I’ve told you this before, but you got a good one.

There are so many more stories I could share with you today, but I think seeing Rachel and Lincoln and the love that radiates from them says it all.

I’ll leave you with this: the immortal words of Dory the Fish: “When I look at you I can feel it. I look at you and I’m home.” I wish you two a long life of being home together, wherever you may be. I love you both and congratulations.”

And, another picture, for good measure: I think this is the only picture of the Trifecta all dressed up, and you can’t even see our dresses. Bummer.

996152_10102521597714770_3783802245926108428_nPhoto: Me! I get credit for this one! It was taken with my phone, hence the lovely quality.

Song of the Day: Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros




I Found It!

7 Jan

First post of the new year…hurray!

This isn’t really going to have any content other than to share this gem:

I thought you were shorter...

I’m sitting at work, clearly working hard, and stumbled across this guy on Facebook. This is the photo that led to Alia’s “I thought you were shorter” comment that led to the name of our blog.

You’re welcome.

Song of the Day: On My Own from Les Miserables because I CAN’T STOP LISTENING TO IT. Seriously. It’s been at least 6 times today.

Post Holiday Holiday Post.

31 Dec

So, Rachel and I decided we were going to write holiday posts. Hers is awesome. I failed at writing mine, even though I had it all planned out. I don’t hate the holidays or anything; I just wasn’t feeling inspired. Both Thanksgiving and Christmas snuck up on me this year. So, instead of reminiscing about Christmases past, and also because it’s New Year’s Eve, I’m going to reminisce about some of my favorite moments from this past year. I was going to put them in chronological order, but I’m feeling kind of lazy.


Rachel and I started this blog. That was pretty cool.

I got to celebrate the 1st anniversaries of the three couples whose weddings I was in last year. I didn’t actually see any members of these couples on their anniversaries, or even near their anniversaries, but I did have my own private celebrations. In a non-creepy way.

I loved “True Blood” nights with M & E. We always had yummy air popped popcorn. I also loved “The Walking Dead” nights with my roommate, especially the season 3 mid-season finale where we screamed loudly, several times, and yelled a lot at the TV. Sorry, downstairs neighbors!

Rachel and I (and Lincoln) went to our disaster of a high school reunion. Although it may not have been well attended, it was great to see those who were there and catch up with old friends. I also got super drunk and threw up in my parents’ bathroom sink. I’m awesome.

At said reunion weekend, we got to see Alia and her husband. I think that may have been the one time the Trifecta was together all year. It was lovely. And we had creemees. Alia stuck her tongue in mine.

We had a super fun road trip to get to the reunion. My fondest memory from the road trip was Rachel, Lincoln, and me all singing “Shut Up” by Blink 182 at the top of our lungs. Now I think about it every time I drive to Vermont.

My good friend from work got married this fall. It was a beautiful wedding. Aside from seeing my friend walk down the aisle and celebrating the couple’s happiness, my favorite part of the wedding was when my tights, which ripped BEFORE I left my house but I wore them anyway, kept falling down and I had to take them off and throw them away in the bathroom at the reception. Luckily I had the forethought to bring boy shorts to put on under my dress. I figured going commando in a short dress at a wedding would not be classy.

I got chased by a gopher in a cemetery. Long story.

I got to go white water tubing with my roommate and friends for her birthday. It. Was. Awesome.

Rachel, Lincoln, and I went to the circus to see our friend, The Ringmaster. It was super fun. The circus is amazeballs. I also won a painting done by an elephant. Score!

My mom and I got matching pajamas for Christmas and we wore them all day. We looked adorable.

My good friend from work and I had a fabulous time at our work holiday party. Going to a party from 3 pm to 5 pm on a Thursday in a huge room full of faculty and staff from a large University may not sound like fun, but it’s seriously the best day of the year. My friend and I played “How Much Wine Can You Drink In Ten Minutes” and we both won. It was a great night, for several reasons. Instead of the Holiday Party, I’m going to start calling it The Annual Shitshow.

And, my most favorite memory from 2012 was when Miss Rachel called me from London with an announcement. I had just gotten on the bus on a Friday afternoon heading home from work when my phone rang. Rachel never calls (we communicate via text message, Facebook, email, and Snapchat exclusively), so I knew it was important. She was calling to tell me that she and Lincoln had gotten engaged and to ask me to be her maid of honor. I accepted immediately. And I cried.  I’ll never forget that afternoon.

So, there you have it. I had a pretty great 2012.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Song of the Day: Take Your Time (Coming Home) by Fun.

The Road Trip From Hell

31 Aug

Alia’s bridal shower was in May of 2011 and Rachel and I were, happily, both able to attend. We planned on making a whole weekend out of it and having super fun times. Rachel would take the bus from New York to Boston, I would pick her up, and we’d have a fun-and-girl-talk filled road trip to the great state of VT. Also, there would be snacks.

I left work early that Friday (with Mr. Louis in tow) to meet Rachel at South Station in Violet the Versa (my car that I’d bought brand-spanking new 7 months earlier). I should preface the rest of this story by letting you all know that I have a TERRIBLE sense of direction. Absolutely terrible. If I’m following directions telling me to head north on Main St., etc., I will actually pull out the compass on my phone to find north. When I’m visiting my parents, who still live in the same town that I grew up in, I have to ask my mom how to get to the mall. I once got horribly lost in the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History and ended up in a dark, scary hallway where the administrative offices are located.  I’m a mess. Also, at the time of this road trip, I did not own either a GPS or a smartphone. I have since invested in both. Well, more of a two-in-one deal. I digress.

I knew how to get to South Station, since it has its own exit off the Mass Pike, but from there I was just going to wing it. I knew there were a bunch of different highway entrances around South Station; with Rachel as my co-navigator, I was sure we’d easily find a sign leading us to I-93 north. Boy, was I ever wrong.

This was my first time driving downtown and it was much more confusing than I’d imagined. Damn you, Boston, and your one way streets! First, we could not find 93 north. There were entrances to the Pike and 93 south, but no north. We circled around the same intersection twice before we finally saw a sign…at the end of one of the infmaous one way streets.  So, we circled the opposite direction, of course hitting every red light, and finally made it. The on-ramp to 93 north was just up ahead…we were so close! And then: disaster struck. And by disaster, I mean a small, unapologetic, Asian man with limited English skills in his beat up old car. And by struck, I mean he literally struck my car with his car. He had been parked on the side of the road when I turned on to the street, with no blinker on indicating that he was doing anything other than sitting. However, right as I was driving by him, he decided to pull away, sharply, from the curb. He basically turned left into my car, clearly not checking his blind spot or even really looking where he was going. The collision made a HORRIBLE noise. I was so surprised at what happened that I did not immediately stop driving. I’m pretty sure I asked Rachel if that guy had just hit us, to which she replied affirmatively. Before this, I had never been in an accident where another car was involved (I had knocked the sideview mirror off of a Zipcar once, but that resulted from a collision with a wall…inside of a ferry…but that’s a story for another day).

The rest of what happened was a blur. I pulled over and Rachel and I both exited the car through the driver’s side door- the passenger side door was no longer an option. It’s a good thing she’s tiny and a good crawler. I somehow managed to do everything I needed to (made sure we were not injured, got the guy’s registration and insurance information, called the police), but the whole time all that was running through my head was “my brand new car!!!”. Rachel said I remained super calm and collected through the whole thing…so I guess I do ok in a minor crisis, which is good to know. Thank goodness Rachel was there with me. She took pictures of the car and got information from a witness who had been walking down the street- and ended up saving me from having to pay my insurance deductible! The insurance company of the guy who hit me of course tried to blame the accident on me, which is totally ridiculous. Rachel also ran down the street to retrieve my hubcap, which had popped off during the incident.

After information was exchanged, we had to find a police station, as I had been advised to go pick up an accident report. The woman I had spoken with on the phone gave me the address of the closest one, which was near Government Center, but I of course had no idea where the specific street was. So, instead of asking for directions, I just started driving. Rachel tried to look the address up on her phone, but it tried to send us to Middleborough. Wrong city, Google Maps. Nice try, though. We followed the signs for Government Center. I somehow thought calling my ex-boyfriend for directions would help. It did not. I was a little frazzled. Then, magically, we happened upon the street! It was a miracle. We then parked illegally in front of the police station (not the smartest choice, I know, but parking in downtown Boston is hard!!!) and ran inside for an accident report. The officer working at the front desk was VERY helpful AND there was an entrance for 93 north right behind the police station! Hurray! We were (finally) on our way.

Thankfully, the rest of our trip was uneventful, except for the crazy rain storm that forced me to slow to a crawl on the highway. Not being able to see out of your windshield is not conducive to driving.

Violet the Versa ended up having to have both passenger side doors replaced, her frame was bent, and there were issues with one of the wheels (I think). She was in the shop for a month. A whole month! But, she was just like new when I got her back, and I haven’t been downtown since.

That’s a lovely scrape on the ruined passenger side door. Sigh.

Song of the Day: I’m in Love with my Car by Queen

Catching the Bouquet…

10 May

I am not a competitive person. I like to play games for the sake of playing a game (and having something to do). I don’t care if I win or lose. This lack of competitive edge is why I sucked so bad at field hockey. So, when I dove for the bouquet at Alia’s wedding, I think I shocked a lot of people, including myself.

I was a bridesmaid in three weddings last fall. At the first wedding, I found myself really wanting to catch the bouquet for some reason. I placed myself in what I thought was a great place and jumped with the other hopeful bouquet-catchers as the bride tossed. Alas, I was standing too close to the bride and the girl standing behind me was the lucky one.  It ended up being OK, though, because the guy who caught the garter wasn’t my type.

Up next was Alia’s wedding and I was ready. I positioned myself farther back in the crowd and crouched into the perfect pouncing position. What I did not take into account was the low ceiling in the venue. The bouquet ricocheted off said ceiling and the girls in front of me dove for it- and I dove on top of them. This moment is really just a blur to me, but what I do remember happening is this: the girl who caught the bouquet started to run off the dance floor after she had the flowers. Unfortunately, my hand was caught in her hair and, as she started to run, I pulled my hand back. Hard. It must have hurt. I felt bad. Kind of. Then, Alia turned around and yelled at the bouquet winner, who I think was her cousin. I’m not sure why she yelled. Alia’s not sure why she yelled. It was all very chaotic.

I then skulked off the dance floor to wallow in my loss. Rachel came over to tell me that she’d never seen me act so aggressively in my entire life. I told her how I’d pulled the girl’s hair. We shared an evil laugh.  Then, bouquet girl came over and handed me the flowers. After some back and forth with her (“You take them.” “But you caught it!” “No, really, take them.” “No, they’re yours.” “No, here.” “Why?” “I don’t want them.”) I had the bouquet. I was victorious. And I was treated to a very risque, Chippendale-esque routine by Alia’s cousin (other side of the family from the girl who’d caught the bouquet) who had caught the garter.  The garter that I later wore OVER MY JEANS to the wedding after party. God, I’m so cool.

A lovely picture of Rachel and me with the infamous bouquet.

The bride at the third wedding did not throw a bouquet, so this scene was not repeated. That is something we can all be thankful for.

This incident has taught me that I do have a competitive spirit buried deep inside of me that only comes out when I’ve had wine. Also, I’m really awesome at weddings.

Song of the Day: Whatta Man by Salt-N-Pepa

Quotes of our Lives

25 Apr

The best kind of friendships are those in which, no matter how long time passes between visits, it feels as if no time has passed at all.

That’s what Rachel, our super-smart doctor friend, Alia, and I  have. We sometimes go months without seeing each other, but when we get together we pick right back up where we left off. Now, of course, we spend some time catching up on recent happenings, etc., but the jokes and witty banter are always the same. An observer once said to us, during a particularly heated game of Pop-Up Video Trivia,: “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were drunk all the time.” I think that is by far the best way to describe the three of us.

Obviously, since we’ve all been friends for years, we have lots of inside jokes.  For instance, our guy friends in high school used to ask us all the time what we did at sleepovers. We got sick of them asking and eventually told them we did normal sleepover stuff…watch movies, do each other’s make-up…but that we did it topless. Every sleepover from there forward became known as a Topless Sleepover. We also refer to ourselves as The Trifecta. I won’t be telling you where that name came from.

The Trifecta at Alia’s wedding last fall

Whenever we’re together, we say absolutely ridiculous things.  As a way to remember all the good times, I came up with Quotes of our Lives in December of 2003.  It started out as a purple notebook that I would bring along on our various adventures to chronicle all of the funny things we said,  but when it became too cumbersome to carry around in a purse, we started using paper menus and napkins- anything we could find at the time. This notebook and all of the extra inserts have traveled with me from dorm room to dorm room and to my various post-college apartments. It never fails to cheer me up when I’m missing my girls or to make me laugh until I cry when I’m having a bad day.

None of the quotes in this notebook will make sense to anyone besides the three of us, but these are a few of my favorites:

Rachel: Look how tiny I have to be! (in reference to being shoved in the back of my car with a crap ton of luggage)

Alia: I love the periodic table.

Rachel: Richard Gere is a silver fox.

Rachel: You can’t drive to Alaska.

Bethany: We should throw this out, but we’re gonna need it!

Rachel: That’s a pretty building.
Bethany: It’s probably an insane asylum

Bethany: Wear clothes!
Alia: Weather permitting.

Rachel: Look, we had a baby! (to her brother while walking out of the movie theater we worked at in reference to the 8 year old I was babysitting)

Bethany: That didn’t make any sense; you just said letters.

Alia: I’m a one-eyed jack. (as she winks)

Bethany: Let’s get another drink and see where the night takes us…(written on an empty pack of Orbit gum)

Alia: It’s really hard being the funny one, smart one, and cute one. It’s my cross to bear.


Alia: I thought you were shorter. (There’s a long and not very funny backstory to this quote that I won’t explain, but we decided to name our blog after this quote in honor of Miss Alia)

Song of the Day: In This Diary by The Ataris (Rachel already quoted this song, but it’s really the most appropriate for this post)