The answer to "Do you take this man?" probably shouldn't be "Yes! YES!! YES!!!!"

As long as she's not doing her Meg Ryan impersonation, but really means it? Would probably impress the hell out of the new husband.

This is....similar-ish.

She was adopted by her parents at 8 weeks old. Her birth father never knew about her, her birth mother was 15.

As long as she's not doing her Meg Ryan impersonation, but really means it? Would probably impress the hell out of the new husband.

I think you misspelled 'terrify'.

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Drool.

This is....similar-ish.

She was adopted by her parents at 8 weeks old. Her birth father never knew about her, her birth mother was 15.

That works okay, then. Probably. Maybe. I guess we'll see.

If it gets tense, though, it's your job to burst into "Knowing Me, Knowing You" and see if the rest of the wedding joins in.

I'll have the groomsmen put on the flippers.

Jilli, Plei, y'all know the east side better than I do:

I'm trying to find a restaurant to host a Saturday night dinner for a group of writers at our conference in October. We're at the Coast Hotel in Bellevue, which is just off 405, I think the NE 8th St exit. We need space for 15-20, ideally in a private room or secluded alcove where we'll actually be able to hear ourselves think. I'm looking for something broadly in the sit-down chain price range, though I've struck out with the really obvious Bellevue Square places like PF Chang's and the Cheesecake Factory for either not having the private space or taking evening reservations.

Any ideas? Other pluses would be easy to drive to and a cuisine likely to please a broad range of people.

I have to say, not one wedding story I've heard has lessened my desire to elope

My friend J got married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator and... oh, that's eloping, isn't it? Shoot.

Oh, billytea. Actuarial charm and risque humor. What would we do without you?

In other, completely useless news not related to clothing, I just completed a complex set of trades in my roto baseball league involving ten players, probably dooming my team to a crispy-fried final 1/4 of the season.

And the sad thing is, this is the most interesting thing I've done today and the only thing that's involved a lot of brainpower.

Oh we can eat, we just can't eat WITH each other.

Man, screw that. Call the groomsmen and have lunch with them.

Every time I hear a Bridezilla story I thank my deity of choice (Judeo-Christian class, Only Begotten Son division, Born Again catergory) that I landed Susan, who looked dead sexy in her wedding dress and didn't spoil that mood by grabbing my shirt and screaming "THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE IVORY!!!!!" as my sister-in-law did before her wedding.

Hi, honey!

Someday we're going to be crotchety old people still quoting that line about the non-ivory shirts and people will think we're crazy and senile.