the first wedding-related argument

I asked my mom to gather the addresses of family members who I might invite to the wedding.  We agreed on the guest list, that is, "No Haters".  So today after a month of reminding her and her promising to get back to me, she called.  Her list was full of haters.  I told her which ones I didn't need because I'm not inviting them.  She was not happy and now I am not happy.  She told me to be polite and invite them cuz they won't come.  She said that they don't have money to travel and get a hotel and all that.  I know better.  I know all they have to do is ask my dad for money and then he'll feel obligated.  He'll pay their way to come annoy me.  They'll eat and drink and be ugly and bring all 20 of their children and down syndrome grandkids.  Or maybe they won't come.  But I can't count on maybe.  And I don't want to waste the postage on anyone who's never so much as sent me a birthday card.

Then she plays the but-your-dad card.  But your Dad would want his family there.  But your Dad will say if they're not invited that he's not coming.  Now, I haven't talked to my Dad and I need to before there's a problem.  It's not an argument I want to have.  I hope it's not one that becomes necessary.

I think Mom wants to have a huge family gathering.  I think part of her sees a mariachi band and a pinata.  I think that if my parents really wanted to have that party, my 15th birthday passed and that chance has gone by.  I think she was a little resentful when I suggested that if they wanted to pay for the wedding they could decide the guest list.  She said we were already arguing and I hadn't even invited her yet.  I don't even know how to respond to that.

Chris and I want to celebrate our marriage with people we love.  I really wish it was that simple.

XM is not immune

Chris, Alex and I are often listening to Lucy, the XM radio station, on Saturday night.  It's one of the alernative stations that we listen to anyway.  Saturdays, along with the usual alertnative stuff, you can hear  all kinds of weird songs that you probably don't know exist by bands that can't even be classified as one-hit wonders.  They also have "Cheap Prize Giveaways" ...every week brings new, cheap, stupid prizes.  This week in honor of President's Day on Monday, they had something they got at the dollar store, which was purchased with a dollar featurning George Washington's picture, your choice of Dolly Madison Zingers of Sweet Buns and a picture of the President of your choice, except for assasinated Presidents. During the evening they'd play a sound bite of Ronald Reagan and you had to be the seventh caller.  So we were driving along and they played it and I couldn't get my phone out of my pocket.  Finally I got it out and dialed and we won.  The three of us were laughing as I gave the lady answering the phone my mailing address.  I chose Zingers and Martin Van Buren, who invented the apostrophe.  They are sending me a bottle of rainbow sprinkles they got from the dollar store.  They're sending Tim, another winner, red press-on nails.  The dj kept repeating my name on the radio.  I got a big kick out of it.  It's funny how small, silly things can make me laugh.  Oh, and it was just announced that I am tonight's Grand Prize Winner!  I get pictures of all the assasinated Presidents.  How 'bout that?  My lucky dialing finger continues to exert it's magic, even over satellite radio.

...but I hate microsoft paint

I love my boss.  I've told you why before and I'm sure I will again.  But sometimes he confuses me.  He walked into my office and I didn't get what he was talking about until later. 

I generally get an instant vibe off people before they've even opened their mouths.  I'm generally right and often they have no idea how I've instantly judged them.  I'm right so often that I really shouldn't be surprised by the latest backstabbing.  I'm not technically surprised by the stabbing, only by the lack of creativity in the jab.  It wasn't a death blow.  It just gets old sewing up the backs of my shirts.  Oh well.

I LIVE MY LIFE OUT LOUD.  I think I read that on a tshirt once.  I like it.  It fits.  As you're probably aware, this page is public, as are most of my blogs.  I keep it that way mostly for my friends  who are MySpace snobs.  I keep it that way because I think the world is entitled to know my thoughts.  I keep it that way because I'm entitled to share my thoughts.  I keep it that way because there's nothing I'll say here that I won't say in any other arena. 

I like to think that my readers are my friends and family.  I write and I can picture them reading my latest installment of nonsense.  It helps.  I like to know that someone cares about my bad day or bad mood or good news or good hair days.  It's reassuring and I appreciate it. 

I don't like to think of my other readers and yet they pop their two cents in more often than people who I actually like.  Weird.  I'm no Paris Hilton so I really don't understand why I have so many haters.  It could be worse.  I could be an East Coast Rapper.  (RIP Tupac)

Sometimes I go through a normal day and do normal stuff and nothing really exciting happens.  There are no real low points or high points worth mentioning.  But that's sucky-ass writing/reading material and I'd rather go clearance shopping.  Sometimes I bitch about my day or a specific thing.  Funny how that's what people focus on -- a sentence or two in a moment of frustration.  Gosh.  I can't tell me how that makes me feel.

Thanks for reading my online blogs...I mean, ""doodles on the computer"".  Doodles.  Pfft.

shit

I have an attitude. 

Seems all the women in my family are on a diet.  They're losing weight for the wedding. No one wants to be ""the fat one""... I guess that will be me.

John decided to avoid me all last week even though I had a small project to do for him.  He decided to talk to me yesterday and keeps poking his head in my office to look over my shoulder.

I  don't understand why.  I don't dare ask.  I'm not sure that I want to know.

My face is breaking out again.  I'm considering a professional sand blasting.

I can't find my Chuck Taylors.

I'm tired of work. I need a vacation.

We'll spend whatever it takes if it's what I really want.  I don't know if I really want it. How much really is necessary, really?  I guess I don't really want it, huh?

If I want to buy white Chuck Taylors and glue rhinestones on them, I will.  Stop rolling your eyes it only makes me want a matching blue pair.

I got my paycheck and it's short the three days I took off.  I forgot to expect that.

I don't do anything anymore.  I barely talk to my friends. 

I'm frustrated and I have no outlet.  I need a vent. 

and a drink

and new shoes.

updated update

I have cooties. BIG ones.  My normal medications aren't doing a whole lot, but I'm no longer convinced I may go into respiratory arrest.  I have a whole lot of work that I'm avoiding for a minute.  It's too hard to focus with my head full of mucus.

The wedding continues to shape up nicely.  We've booked the hall and the caterer.  We found a lady to do the linens.  We're 85% sure about the dj. We're doing free beer, wine, coffee and soft drinks. (anything else you can buy your own--love  you) We had a cake tasting Saturday and have another scheduled for this coming Saturday.  I really liked the first place, but I've heard this other place is *the best* so we'll see.  I've got the dress, head piece and veil.  I still need shoes and underwear.  I love shopping for both so I'm not worried.  The one thing that does concern me is that the bridesmaids have not committed to a dress so I can't finalize my colors and decorations.  I made the cake white on white on white to be safe. 

The save-the-date cards got caught up at the printer.  Something about a software glitch.  I dunno.  Hopefully I'll be getting those so Ican mail them out.  Which reminds me, in case you missed my bulletin, I need addresses.  Thank you to everyone who sent me theirs already.