Today things were slightly odd between me and my fella. Phoebe sent me a text message that put my mind temporarily at ease: "I'm sure he is just thinking too much. He faxes you. Don't sweat it". 'Fax' is the Phoebe version of 'cheese sandwich'. I don't know if she really thinks that (about all the faxing going on) or if she was trying to appease me because my mind is going one bazillion miles an hour about the subject and I have ENOUGH on my plate for the weekend. I don't think she'd say it unless she thought there was a chance. Regardless, the sentiment totally made me want to fax her a cheese sandwich.
And why will this weekend me so tuff for me?
To be honest, I shouldn't even be ON HERE! I snuck out of work early just because I have one gazillion things to do and sadly, I do not have one gazillion hours to do them in. I think I just need a half an hour or so to chill and get my head in the game or I'm liable to fucking explode between now and Monday. I don't think anyone wants that. Blood and brains never look good on a wedding dress. Here's how my whirlwind of a weekend is shaping up:
Friday: Tonight is the pre-wedding party which Johnny is sure witll be "a rager". I am on snack patrol. Crossing my fingers that my ex-husband won't be there but won't sweat it if he is. I have lots of back up to help me be comfortable. But while that event will be FUN...there is so much to do BEFORE! I need to clean my car out, clean up my house (which is bieng turned into a hotle over the weekend, or so it seems), go to the bank, go get snacks...sheesh! Can't stay out toooo late cause I plan on cutting loose tomorrow, which is...
Saturday: ...wedding day. Pre-wedding, I have to finishin cleaning, get some beverages for my guests, dye my hair, buy birthday presents for my nephews, get a wedding card, go get my hair DONE, bathe, paint toenails, have a manicure, groom in general, dress, make sure my date doesn't have a hangover and has at least brushed his hair, and get to the place on time and PRAY Alicia doesn't forget my fan (I don't want to be the only bridesmaid without a fan). OH! And I CAN NOT forget Ben's gold tossing coins. DAMN IT!
Why do they leave things to remember up to the person with the WORST MEMORY?!? The wedding will rock as long as I don't trip and eat dirt. But being at a wedding...with my ex-husband...it's going to kill. Hardcore. And no one will understand how I feel. Luckily, I have a kick-ass date (who assured me he's been practicing his cuddling for afterwards), Phoebe will be there to tell me to stand up straight, the Shoe-Lanes ALWAYS have my back...so I should be OK. Even when Ben talks about divorce in his vows. It's just...this guy...my ex...it hurts. But it's getting better thanks to a healthy heaping of cheese sandwiches!!! After I DON'T TRIP walking down the aisle and walk out arm-in-arm with Dennis A. Bell, I'm gonna get drunk, I'm gonna dance with Phoebe and Danny, and I'm going to hit Sugarball's gong with my ASS! YEEEEEEEHAW!
Sunday: If i'm still alive on Sunday, I have to go to a family function for my rocker nephew followed by the post-wedding brunch at Tom and Carol's. The rest of the day...recovery. I'll need it. Fuck Human Eye and Kill the Hippies, man. There's no way I can swing that...rocker or not. Plus, I'm not sure I can take three days in a row of my ex-husband. My hearts healing but for fuck's sake, it's not made of chrome.
So...there you have it. Three days of insanity.
And besides all that, I have an elephant sitting on my brain.
An elephant eating a cheese sandwich.
3 comments:
i fax you. so does whatshisnuts. so does everyone. because you are tops.
I really hope you're right about Leo. Otherwise, I have very little left in my life. Do you REALLLLLLLY think that???
yes i really do. moreso than i am faxed, that's fo sho. you're lucky. i'm envious. there, i said it.
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