I are not deaded. Although the two-day migraine is making me feel like I am. This is not unrelated to the three-days-and-counting of torrential rain we're having. We go off to the Greenbelt festival tomorrow. We've got a campervan to sleep in. It still needs to stop raining.
Hello, Bitches!
Have a Day, Barb. Hope it's a good 'un!
I feel like it would be like someone telling me, "Let's meet at Whole Foods, it's an organic grocery store, but many of them have cafes in them where you can get prepared foods or hit the salad bar." Like I'd never have heard of this offbeat place if they hadn't described it to me.
This, exactly.
yes. Precisely. But if everything else has been normal just suggest something else.
I don't mind someone explaining. He doesn't really know what kinds of things you know yet. I once spent some time explaining who Randy Newman was to someone who turned out to know a whole lot about music and they were incredibly gracious about it.
Ack. My friend (I feel weird calling her my "best friend," since we don't really talk much any more, but "former best friend" sounds like we hate each other or she was demoted for the girl with the cool Hello Kitty lunchbox, so I'm just going to stick with "friend") who's getting married in San Diego -- the one who sent the invitation to "Stephanie AND GUEST" -- e-mailed me the other day because I hadn't sent the RSVP back.
Now, the RSVP deadline is a week or so away, so I wasn't being uncouth; Tim and I were just still trying to decide if we could reasonably make the trip.
But, Jesus. We have to have a new a/c and furnace installed, and the lowest-end models are going to be no less than $7,000. Ouch.
Two plane tickets to San Diego, plus at least 2 nights in the chosen hotel, plus rental car, plus meals out there, plus petsitter back here (and Tim would have to take a day off work), and probably new clothes -- that's going to be more than a grand. And I just can't do it. Maybe if we didn't have to have a new furnace put in, but DAMN.
(I'm also, truth be told, still cheesed off about the "and Guest" bullshit. You want me to spend $1,000 bucks to celebrate your relationship but you don't acknowledge mine? For reals?)
So I have to e-mail her back and tell her, hey, you know how the economy is lousy for everyone except you? Can't make it.
(And no, I'm not going to say that verbatim. I am not a tacky bitch. Although I would love to say "Sorry, but TIM and I can't make it to your wedding to Fiance.")
I agree that every couple should decide what's most important to them (not just for their wedding, but for their life). And if they want a destination wedding (neither one of them is from San Diego; they just like it), I would hope they would understand that asking guests to shell out a lot of $$$ is going to be a burden to some of them.
Tim and I don't want to go into debt over a wedding (especially one that isn't ours) (not that we're getting married, but you know). So, Guest and I aren't going.
I'm on a plane, Bitches!
God it was hard to leave Frankie.
Oops, time to power down.
I think "I'm sorry Tim and I can't make your wedding" is perfectly proper wording. Miss Manners doesn't tell you that you can't be snide, she just gives you the most genteel way to manage it. It's why I love her so.
God it was hard to leave Frankie.
This is going to be the hardest thing about going to India for 3 weeks. It is going to be so hard to leave Oz, particularly since he his so people oriented and snuggly. 3 weeks without him licking my feet until he falls asleep or molding himself to my side.
Now I want to run home and snuggle him this instant.
Steph, I think that's perfectly reasonable. I spent almost $1000 going to my friends' wedding this weekend. But, I was lucky enough to have it, and decided that my flat screen TV will end up being a Christmas present to myself, rather than for the new fall season. You make choices, and going to this wedding is not a good choice for you.
God it was hard to leave Frankie.
He'll love you just as much when you get back. For realz.
On the other hand, I couldn't do it! And I, um, haven't. Seriously, I'm so over travel that in the 9 years I've had Bartleby, we've been apart for 10 whole nights.
One of those was in his own home with a friend who assured me they ordered a pizza, tossed back some bears and watched porn.
The other 9 were with a woman who loves him almost as much as I do. So much so that her grown children have photos of Bartleby on display in their homes.
Reminds me, I should give her a call.