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Friday the 13th...eee!
Jan. 13th, 2006 08:04 amI'm thinking I should just shove all wedding blather to a separate post and make an icon that warns people to not bother, or read because amusing horror lies ahead. But, alas, I'm lazy, and cannot be bothered to properly structure my thoughts so they can be separated and dealt with. Woo for me.
This Sunday I'm invited to bridesmaid hell. Which I'm only doing because, you know, I should socialize with them sometime. And only one of them drives me batty, but rarely to my face... It's just that I'm not one of those girls who feels incomplete unless I have three or more friends over. I don't feel like something or someone is missing. I get a little weirded out with too many people around, but not so many you can get lost in the crowd. Also, with one exception, each and every one of these girls has had a hand in what I can't help but see as the downward spiral o' Cassaliscious. Must not think like that. Must. Not. I am there to help Cass not get steam rolled by other people, including myself, and to also keep the shindig from turning super ghetto fabulous or white trashariffic. Both in exceptionally bad ways. Considering her family, this will be a fun line to walk. The girls who haven't been sober in years... No. Bad, Imp, bad!
*sulks* I don't like meetings. But maybe there will be Kahlua. Maybe I can hint. Maybe I'll smuggle my own and just not share. Hrmm.
Tell me to think happy thoughts, nothing is ever quite as bad as it seems [but do not point out that frequently it's worse] and all that nonsense, would you? Good, good.
The etiquette book is somehow fascinating. I don't know why I give a damn about how to properly address a wedding invitation, but I do. Perhaps it's the knowledge that if my grandparents were alive, this might mean something should I ever get married? Hrmm. Again, I know not, but fascinating anyway. This doesn't change the fact that if I were invited to a wedding anytime soon, I would laugh and then not go. I never claimed to be consist ant.
Work was work. Today is turning out to be quite a loverly sort of day, considering it's Friday the 13th. My breakfast is crab dip and crackers, work didn't suck my soul out, I read most of last week's trashy weeklies, and I've been very good about not spending money at work on things that aren't needed [a drink and a snack are needed. $20 worth of Bridal magazines? Not...yet.] and I've given my father a heart attack*. Awesome.
*= not literally. He saw the giant stack of bridal books on the table and asked Mom if there was something he should know, sounding sort of panicked, and Mom assured him it was just for other people's weddings.
This Sunday I'm invited to bridesmaid hell. Which I'm only doing because, you know, I should socialize with them sometime. And only one of them drives me batty, but rarely to my face... It's just that I'm not one of those girls who feels incomplete unless I have three or more friends over. I don't feel like something or someone is missing. I get a little weirded out with too many people around, but not so many you can get lost in the crowd. Also, with one exception, each and every one of these girls has had a hand in what I can't help but see as the downward spiral o' Cassaliscious. Must not think like that. Must. Not. I am there to help Cass not get steam rolled by other people, including myself, and to also keep the shindig from turning super ghetto fabulous or white trashariffic. Both in exceptionally bad ways. Considering her family, this will be a fun line to walk. The girls who haven't been sober in years... No. Bad, Imp, bad!
*sulks* I don't like meetings. But maybe there will be Kahlua. Maybe I can hint. Maybe I'll smuggle my own and just not share. Hrmm.
Tell me to think happy thoughts, nothing is ever quite as bad as it seems [but do not point out that frequently it's worse] and all that nonsense, would you? Good, good.
The etiquette book is somehow fascinating. I don't know why I give a damn about how to properly address a wedding invitation, but I do. Perhaps it's the knowledge that if my grandparents were alive, this might mean something should I ever get married? Hrmm. Again, I know not, but fascinating anyway. This doesn't change the fact that if I were invited to a wedding anytime soon, I would laugh and then not go. I never claimed to be consist ant.
Work was work. Today is turning out to be quite a loverly sort of day, considering it's Friday the 13th. My breakfast is crab dip and crackers, work didn't suck my soul out, I read most of last week's trashy weeklies, and I've been very good about not spending money at work on things that aren't needed [a drink and a snack are needed. $20 worth of Bridal magazines? Not...yet.] and I've given my father a heart attack*. Awesome.
*= not literally. He saw the giant stack of bridal books on the table and asked Mom if there was something he should know, sounding sort of panicked, and Mom assured him it was just for other people's weddings.
