I've emailed the MoH and other Bridesmaids that I will NOT be staying the night. Dinner is now at a reasonable, normal priced restaurant where I will be having the soup and some water. (Skinny bitches, can't be eating what I want.) If Bride has an issue, I'll tell her, "I'm not ready to be away from Em overnight yet." and she'll have to just deal.

Good for you.

Yeah, when the BF told his parents he wanted to study theater instead of be a doctor like they wanted they refused to pay for college. So he worked his way through ,starting at age 16.

ETA--edited to fix all the mistakes which came from posting suddenly when Boss dropped by desk.

Wow, that is cold! Thankfully my parents mostly left me to pick my high aspirations. I have a long-standing feeling I disappoint my father, but since he has never said on what basis, I don't really have to do anything, much. Unspoken feelings are great that way, I suppose.

Oy. Vey. Aimee, it looks like you're taking care of yourself, which is veryvery good. I still want to kick MoH into next week.

smoochs ND, just 'cause

juliana still around?

I'm here, sweetie. What's up?

I never stood a chance to pull off anything near what my Dad did growing up.

My grandfather was a telephone lineman in Saskatoon and the family lived in the basement of the unfinished house while they saved the money to build the rest of the house. My father finished High School 2 years early. At that point you couldn't enter college early so he worked in a bank for two years. Then he paid his own way through Pre-Med by working for the Canadian Airforce (Kinda the equivalent to the US Reserves.) He did Premed in 3 years, and then did med school in 3 years. He then served as an Airforce Doctor, eventually left the service, moved to Long Beach, CA and did his specialization in Pathology. This is all before they even adopted me. After that he moved to San Diego to be a partner in a medical practice. So yeah, he's insanely smart, and he did it all himself.

I'm here, sweetie. What's up?

Totally dumb question.

Could you tell that there was glitter in the package I sent? I keep wondering whether the glitterfetti stays visible or if it all shifts to the bottom during shipping. And I've never managed to remember to ask any other recipients within a reasonable amount of time from receipt. (If it's not having the appropriate impact, I could stop saving the stuff for Bitch prezzie packages, and just go hog wild at the next shindig or somesuch).

Oh, don't even enter the "achievements pale in comparison to my parents'" competition, bud. You'll lose. You'll lose big.

Mainly because you've become highly successful in a field that many people don't really even think about and success in which relies largely on other people's recognition of your success.

Whereas some of us just, er, sit around a lot. Watching scifi shows and playing computer games. Oh, and drinking, when we can drag our lazy assess off the couch to track down alcohol.

Could you tell that there was glitter in the package I sent?

Oh, yeah. It was fun, for me and the cats. :) I liked it a lot.

Ginger, your squirrel-in-bosom story helped cap a night of Bizarre Yet Amusing Accidents with my ex-MiL last night. You may rest assured that you have reached the Hall of Fame of such anecdotes, safely ensconced next to: The Popcorn That Popped Up the Nose; The Man In A Motorized Wheelchair Who Fell Asleep During the Lecture; The Woman Whose Nose Was Caught In the Subway Doors; The Cautionary Tale of The Teenage Girl, The Curling Iron and The Eyelash Curler; My Friend Diana and The Perils of Flirting With Your Long Hair Near the Pudding Bowl And the Hand Mixer, and, the ultimate - The Affectionate Cat, The Antiquated Gas Stoves in Queens, The Fireball, The Tub and The New Roomate.

Which brought to mind the true story which I had missed until this last week which finalized the No Long Scarves for Me EVER Rule. Ack.

And Aimee, you have the patience of a saint the the MoH just blows my mind. It's times like this that I am actually glad that neither me nor any of my friends are rich (although, I would certainly be ok with being a bit less poor).

Oh, don't even enter the "achievements pale in comparison to my parents'" competition, bud. You'll lose. You'll lose big.

I have totally crushed my parents' achievements! Ha! Emmett, however, looks well capable of leaving me in the dust.