I am currently "surfing the crimson wave." And I'm not referring to a sports team. When I told my mother, her comforting comment was simply, "Well, it will be over by Friday, when you have to be pretty."
I couldn't remember what Friday was.
My sister is getting married that day. I'm a bridesmaid. I get to be the "mature" bridesmaid, which means my attire leans towards business while the sisters of my sister's fiance attire will lean towards floozy.
I told my mother that no one will care what I look like on Friday. She then informed me that I could invite someone to join me at the luncheon and the reception. A date. I tried to explain that I'm not up to subjecting any of the guys I know to that kind of torture. She just doesn't get it.
In other news, I have spent too much time Fobbing. Translated, I have been making (weak) Your Mom jokes with the Jester and cracking up at innocent statements that are laden with potential. And I'll leave it at that.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
*tapping fingertips maniacally*
Yes, young editorgirl, come to the dark side.
*laughs maniacally (while still tapping fingers maniacally, which is no easy task)*
Enjoy the bonding (bondage?) time doing the makeovers or pedicures. Thanks so much for calling about the car. We got it moved. Call me when you get back, and we'll play.
I think you should wear a tie. Nothing's prettier than a tie. And you can buy them for two dollars at D.I.
Yeah. You're pretty. And so am I. Boys are just dumb. :)
You're prettier though because you'll be a bridesmaid. He he.
You know what they say, three times a bridesmaid, never a bride... I'll be coming up on three times come May, maybe? (No, she's not engaged yet.) Dang.
Post a Comment