On September 19, 2001, I was sitting at my desk in Nashville, Tennessee getting ready to proofread some back cover copy for a gardening publication. The small independent publishing house where I worked had recently been sold to Big Bible, and I really hated moving from my cozy upstairs office in the little house in Franklin to the huge smelly building where I sat in a cubicle across from a girl who was planning her wedding and was So Pissed that 9/11 might screw things up for the folks in New York who worked at the CASTLE where her wedding was being held. (Had my face frozen the way it was often positioned in those days, my eyes would be watching my brain and my mouth would be permanently agape in one of those “What the fuck?!” positions.)
I was also planning an out-of-town wedding at the time, and my planning (mostly carried out through phone calls) went a little more like this.
Me: Hello, Bevo Mill. I’d like to have my wedding reception at your place. Do you have any upstairs ballroom dates available sometime in the next six months?
Bevo Mill: Our basement is open on October 20th.
Me: October 20th in the basement. Perfect!
Me: I’d rather not be married in a church.
Everyone: But you sort of have to, because you have a family member who is the president of the church so it’s kind of a thing, plus: It’ll be cheap.
Me: Fine. Let’s just do this.
The carrot cake couldn’t be ordered without raisins because it was from a box mix. The pianist canceled two weeks before the wedding because he was in a car wreck during which he cracked his shoulder, broke several ribs, and got gasoline in his eyes. The dead deer heads couldn’t be removed from the walls of the Bevo Mill basement because they were bolted. We told the DJ to not play The Duck Dance or the Macarena. He played both! (Please know that I’m one of the most easy going people you’ll probably never meet. I’m not sure if you’re glue, but I’m definitely rubber. The main purpose of the day was to get married, and that we did. Aces.)
I’ve departed from the point of this post, but I think I need to ride this one out. Are you with me?
Fast forward to the wedding day, also known as the day the pastor told us that the photographer isn’t allowed inside the sanctuary, so all ‘walking down the aisle’ photos would have to be staged in the gathering hall. (At this point we were blind puppets dodging cans of beans in our formal wear.)
The pastor (who was told to NOT include the word Obey during ANY part of the ceremony), during the ceremony: Ephesians 5:24 tells us that wives should obey their husbands in everything, just as the church obeys Christ.
Me (in my head): Are you fucking kidding me right now?
Pastor: DANCE, MONKEYS, DANCE!
Towards the end of the ceremony the pastor asked us to touch our heads together (which seemed dangerous, as I was wearing a tiara because I was a pretty princess at age 31) so he could lay his preacher scarf (which I just learned is actually called a tippet) on top of us. This was NOT part of the rehearsal, and had the photographer actually been allowed to shoot inside the sanctuary, right here is where I would post a photo of us looking completely bewildered—like freshly broken wild horses. But instead, I will post the first song to the CD I was listening to in my car pretty much non-stop back then. Because it’s beautiful.
Back to September 19, 2001! Instead of proofing the copy, I decided to start an online diary (Have I told you that I was recently diagnosed with Significant Inattentive ADHD? It’s true!), and that’s when Fluid Pudding was born. 22 years ago today.
The first entry is here and it’s slop, and again: It was intended to be more of a diary than a blog. BUT, a few people bumped into it and then a few years later it grew a little and here we are. Because of this site I’ve been able to do some pretty amazing things. (Wait. Do any of you remember the time I got a bunch of death threats after I joked about eating like a shark at a fast food restaurant? That was weird.) Also, because of this site, I’ve been able to be in touch with some of my very favorite people. And that includes you.
In case you were wondering, the Rattlesnake Bit the Baby video (along with the video of me stuffing marshmallows into my mouth) is by far what most people mention when they talk to me about Fluid Pudding.
Thank you for being patient and hanging around.
I appreciate it more than you know.