When are we going to get you out to San Francisco, anyway?

You know, in January I have 2 weeks vacation. Mardi gras will take a weekend, but after that we may go. My friend Sarah loves San Francisco, and I've promised to go with her.

Guys you used to be friends with trying to cop a feel, being cast in the role of slut, finding appropriate clothing that neither reveals too much nor makes you look like you're wearing a mumu or have a uniboob, those are bigger issues for me.

Ahah. Mine aren't that big, at least not to me. I used to be more concerned with how they look in clothing, but fuck it. I'm too tired to deal with that these days. Some of my clothes are tight, some these days plunge (but never at work), and I deal with it as a dare to the world at large, more than anything else.

No one's taken it to my face, really--the woman who asked was looking at me in workout clothes, and high-necked to boot. I was just wearing what genes gave me at that point, plus a great sports bra.

You know, in January I have 2 weeks vacation. Mardi gras will take a weekend, but after that we may go. My friend Sarah loves San Francisco, and I've promised to go with her.

Sweet! You two show up, and I'll treat you right. I owe you for missing the NOLA F2F.

Plus you can play with the baby.

Yay, Zmayhem baby!

Sarah actually requires that any guy she dates must like San Francisco. It's a thing with her.

ION. It rained! The whole bar poured out into the parking lot to play in the rain. We're all three. Parched, dehydrated toddlers we are.

Also. I have the neediest little dog on the planet.

I was very excited to check my calendar and realize I'd be seeing you this month.

It's all true! For those who like to keep track of these things, I arrive at San Jose airport at 11:15 on 21 August, and leave on the 23rd at 9:08.

In terms of the wedding gift thing: you know you can put a twenty in the envelope instead of 50. Not unreasonable.

In terms of the wedding gift thing: you know you can put a twenty in the envelope instead of 50. Not unreasonable.

Hey, if you want to show it's a gift you put some thought into, nip off to your local bank and get, like, a 1,000 lire note or something like that. If their honeymoon is taking them outside the 50 states, there's your choice of currency.

Taking home the big trophies.

Emmett's team won their second tournament in a row.

I've already given the "gift" portion; that's what sticking me. This gift is supposed to be CASH, in an envelope, which either she's going to come around and collect, or we're going to hand them in some sort of procession line, either way it will be painfully obvious to everyone who brought an envelope full of cash and who didn't. I wish I had the option now to skip it entirely, but I've already RSVPed and it's too late to back out.

Zenkitty, just to chime in with meara, Teppy, and the others, this "supposed to be CASH" thing is ridiculous. I'm nosy, so I'm wondering: did the bride tell you this, or did one of your co-workers? This is way out of line. To be clear giving cash isn't out of line (depending on the social circle) but expecting it is way the hell over the line.

The social custom (for guests--I mean this on the guests' side) is to give a gift at both the shower and the wedding (when you're invited to both), but the IRONCLAD ETIQUETTE RULE (on the hosts' side) is that an invite is never a request for a gift, and the hosts invite people for the pleasure of their company, not as a means to obtaining a gift, and should expect nothing other than a reply to the invitation. Also, old etiquette rules say you have up to a year after the actual wedding to give a gift. I just mention this, in case things are too tight, right now. Finally, you can get them a fifty dollar U.S. Savings bond (series EE), and it will cost you $25.00. Most banks sell them.

Whoa, I missed a big weekend. Elopement, birthday, not one but two emergency hospitalizations... (and birth and death made appearances elsewhere, too). I am glad everything seems to have worked out well (although have we heard from Scola? Hope the morphine kicked in.)

In my news, me = tired, baby = cranky as fuck.