Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Mantra

Does anyone have a personal mantra? I once read that Pamela Anderson's was, "Shut the fuck up." I've often wondered if she was talking to herself or meant to direct it at other people.

Mine is, "There's no crying in baseball...or at work." I had to repeat that to myself many times today at the office, since my mother is DRIVING ME OUT OF MY MIND. She emailed me 27 times at work last week about wedding crap. I counted. She calls me four times a day, despite my telling her that my cell phone doesn't have signal in the office. Then she gets mad when I can't understand anything she says. She also emails my personal account constantly.

So last week, she scheduled nine wedding parties and showers that I am to have in the next four and a half months. I'm grateful for her help, and I'm grateful to the kind people throwing these parties, but it's too damned much. I have to configure guest lists for all these people. A.S. has to drive four hours to get here and then put on a tux. He's going to get pissed...and I'm going to have a nervous breakdown.

Speaking of that...why is it (generally) in a woman's nature to cry, while a man just gets pissed? AND they get to pee standing up. It's just not fair.

Plus almost all of these events are being held by our parents' friends, not our friends. Our friends are just getting around to asking if they can participate (three whole weeks into the engagement...shocking!) and there's no time. Boo.

I'm not quite done whining yet, but I'm nearing the end. Bear with me. AND, there stands the simple truth, that A.S. and I are the types who swan in to parties, say our hellos, and then sneak home to drink wine and do whatever it is we do. We are not the types who enjoy being the center of attention, and with these types of parties, you have to come early and stay until everyone goes home. Christ. Maybe I need to buy a book on how to make small talk. Any advice? Besides drinking a lot?

Okay, okay. Now it's time to psych myself back up. I do get to buy new shoes for these events. Nice.

At the end of this, I will have an excellent husband (Sweet Baby Moses, I'm going to have a husband).

I should stop being so negative and ungrateful. These people are being kind enough to throw elegant soirees for us, and the least I can go is drink their bourbon and smile about it.

Did I mention the shoes?

After it's all over, I get to go on a honeymoon and maybe climb the Matterhorn.

And then I can move far, far away to places where people actually vote Non-Turd.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ah sweetie, I just had one shower and I didn't much want to go to it either. I completely understand you not looking forward to it all. *hugs*

Rachel