Just In Case You Thought I Was Smart

Hi Internet,

Here's a quick note just to let you all know that I heard a pop in my head today and I have now confirmed that it was a cluster of cells just giving up and exploding. Here's how I know:

In an effort to get things done tonight, all but one of which I got done, I decided to tape Gilmore Girls.

Did it tape? Yes it did.

Did I change the channel and become baffled by static EVERY SINGLE TIME the commercials came on the TAPE?!?!?

Yes I did.

What's That? Shannon Stole My Letters?

I don't think so. Yes, she has beautiful children, yes, she's a chemist, yes, she has managed to consistently out-shoe me this year, yes, she updates her blogs all the time and so everybody loves her.

BUT

NO

She will not steal from me!

And so,

Dear AOL,

I HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTEEEEEEE you!!!!!!!! I mean, from the bottom of my belly I hate you. You are the worst. You hide my mail from me, you do that irritating beyond all reasonable account thing where when I log out and attempt to write something in the address bar, you put the cursor in your search box. Where, you then execute the worst, most useless, least helpful search to be found on the Internet.

And why Why WHY, when I check my mail from work, do you a)never work and b)dedicate only enough room for me to see TWO emails when you have the entire freaking screen covered with useless nonsense!!!!!! I DON'T WANT YOUR CHANNELS!!!!!!!!!!!!

D'oh swears when we get married we can get high speed and then I will get rid of you and I will love it. It will fill me with so much joy that my Yahoo mailbox can be full to the brim with spam every day and I will whistle a little tune as I delete it because anything, even 500 emails from someone named debora who I think is stalking me, will be better than you.

You're dead to me,
e

Dear Top Chef,

Why are you on so late? I guess it's not that late but there was NOTHING on tv tonight so it feels very very late. And why are you so poorly edited? And what is with all the figs? And, um, dude, why call attention to the "crustiness" of your dish? Maybe it's just me, but that's a little yucky. However, I do think it's hilarious that the obnoxious bald judge has to eat alone in the kitchen and although this episode has not ended, I'm full of hope that the girl with the widgy ears who never says a word on camera but is full o'smack off camera, will be kicked off tonight.

(Edited to add) But let me say this, you jack-headed judges. If one of these contestants ever EVER didn't send out a dish, you know you would send them home in about 10 freaking seconds, so how about you just shut it, and maybe put some clothes on because even in an episode about offal, you are thing that grossed me out.

(Edited again to add) I do, however, appreciate the increase in the number of cute boys this year. Nicely done.

We'll see,
e

Dear Invitation Stationery Lady,

You are so nice. You are a pleasure. So far, you have been the most helpful, least pushy, most forthcoming with useful information type person outside of our families I have come across in the wedding planning parade and I would like to encourage you to go into the floral/catering/favor/priest business asap.

Thanks,
e

Dear Laundry,

Just do yourself. And don't be so expensive. And let me use different types of coins.

You're dumb,
e


Dear Gilmore Girls,

I don't get what you're doing. I've seen every episode of this show, and the one thing, that I absolutely have NOT been waiting for, is that pencil head grossing me out every freaking week. He may be on once a season at most if you want to stay friends. Otherwise, I'm telling everyone that you smell.

I'm not kidding,
e

Dear Internet,

I just remembered there is a Peppermint Patty in my purse.

Gotta go,
e

Saturday Is Still Part of This Week!!!!!

So, this is what I was saying.

First, I am the first one to admit that I burn hours each week looking at other people’s wedding online. HOURS!

But.

Yes, getting married is a super-fun, important and momentous occasion, I totally and completely get where the excitement comes from. However. Since D’oh and I got engaged, I have gotten the distinct impression that I am not as on the ball/obsessed with my wedding as I should be.

So far, every conversation about the crazy looking ring that I am obsessed with on my left hand has begun with some version of the question, “What are your colors?”

To which I respond: “…”

Which in turn is greeted with, “Your colors?! The color theme of your wedding?!?”

To which I have no response. Why can’t I have all the colors? I’m not the colors girl. I have never been strongly associated with a specific color to my knowledge and there is not a given color theme that has marked the majority of my life. And I read these web sites where these lovely and excited girls are ticked that their MOH (maid of honor, not, as I had originally believed, Monkey of Hell) are not fully on board with their color scheme of celadon, celery, and cucumber. (Because EVERYBODY looks good in celery!) One girl’s best friend for real emailed her and bitched her out for choosing teal, when she KNEW that the best friend had always wanted teal since the day she was given the absolutely wrong priorities by her mother!

Why do I know this? Because these lovely and excited girls are posting every single teeny tiny miniscule itty bitty detail of their wedding planning on the Internet. And yes, I’m reading them, so I have no room to be even whispering, let alone talking, but this has struck me as decidedly strange, and a little deflating.

Why am I not taking hours out of work to track every new post on the Washington, DC board of theknot.com? Am I not as excited about being married? (I object to this question, I totally am excited!) Am I not as on the ball as they are and so they have more time than I to post and then post and then respond to every post about their giant poofy dress? (Not unlikely, I’m not exactly known for being ahead of the game, more of a cram the night before kind of girl right here) Why do I refer to D’oh as D’oh and not my DH (Dear Hubby or some such nonsense that makes my skin, literally, try to crawl away from my eyeballs every time I read it) or my FI (having given up the cussing, I can’t really go into what I thought that meant, but apparently it means fiancé…who knew?)?

I think it’s because I was just not brought up to be the girl who plans your wedding starting when you are in 1st grade (which reminds me, I just was reminded about Tom Thumb weddings. They are creepy. Please quit it.). I was raised to be the girl who had her own life and if she met a nice, kind, freakishly tall dork-o who will use every paper product around including post-its! EXCEPT tissues to blow his nose, who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, so be it.

And I have decided that that is ok. I’m going to do things the way I think is most reflective of the way D’oh and I are hoping that our life will be. I’m not going to wear a tiara, especially not one that can then be made into some nasty ass choker that I would never pay myself to wear. I’m going to insist that the wedding party wear exactly what they feel best in, because that is certainly what I am going to do, and I’m going to invite every child and +1 that pops into my head. This other stuff, this obsessive stuff, this stuff about monogrammed aisle runners and candy buffets, I have finally come to realize, is silly silly fluff and not something that JUST I am missing the appeal of.

Our wedding is going to be a super fun rollicking good time where people I like (and some that I’ve never met but sound lovely) will come and eat a reallllly good cake and wish us well. (That, and hopefully provide us with a KitchenAid mixer because I looooooooooovvvvvve it!) And that is enough.