MG had a bunch of things to write about this week, except that they were all sort of mini blogs in the making, and concerned about the bunch of trash that already floats about in cyber-space, she decided instead to make a List of her mini blog items so that y’all could enjoy it all in one easy-to-read centralized location. Quick wins, all around.
(Can you tell MG works with a bunch of corp-jargon-speaking dunderheads?)
1) MG was having a SHIT week last week. SHIT I tell you! Work sucked, and she’s not sure if she mentioned this, but work really sucked last week. So much so that the Kleenex Ad where the red-head types in “Touch I Touch Q Touch U Touch I Touch T” was something out of her own life last week.
2) MG, being the sneaky controlling crazy Lady Friend that she is, has had His Gmail password for a few years now. While she rarely checks His email, she happened to do so last week. And she, er, stumbled upon photos of none other than…*dun dun dun*…The Rock. On someone else’s ugly-ass hairy finger. And she means hairy.
Once MG stifled the red hairy monster growling “MINE” in baritones of fury, and stopped seeing the world in filters of red, she quickly realized that Him and her had had a deal- she could read his email, as long as he had already read it first. But what on earth was a normal girl like her to do? It said “Diamond Ring” in the subject line! How could anyone resist reading that particular email!?
The only option left, sadly, was to be super-sneaky and hit the “mark as unread” button and pray that He didn’t realize that she’d snooped.
You know that old saying? The one where they say “eavesdroppers hear nothing good about themselves”? Let me paraphrase that; “email snoopers read nothing good about themselves.” Now that MG had seen the ring in pictures, she wasn’t sure if she liked it. It was not a typical engagement ring style and the rock itself seemed to have a flat shape that she couldn’t get her Harry Winston loving head around.
Stop gasping already, it gets better.
But having a night to sleep over it, MG stalked through the email again, and realized, stupidly, that she’d only really looked at the first picture. As she looked through the other pictures she realized, slowly, that she kinda, actually, sorta liked it. But she wasn’t sure. And so she closed the email and tried to erase the guilty images in her head, and tried to forget that she’d sent him an email, long long ago, of the sort of design she’d like. And she did tell Him to surprise her. It would probably look awesome on her finger. Manicured and lotioned or not.
3) At the airport last week, MG gave up on trying not to be a silly bride-to-be, stifled her guilt at selling out, and bought a copy…of Brides. Yes. Brides. That cream-puff publication filled with pages and pages and pages of gowns and make up and jewelery. The entire wedding industry in one glossy 700 (seven! hundred!) page package. She girded her loins, gave her chest a much needed upward push, and prepared herself to become none other than the Bride of Zilla herself, and opened the damn thing.
Surely, she reasoned, that reading so much about frills and fripperies and something old and something blue, would turn her into a controlling freak of nature. “YOUR IDEA BOOK” screamed the cover. “CELEB MARRIAGES” screamed another. (“Oh yeah, RIGHT!” she chuckled to herself. “What normal person would take that story seriously?!”).
Alas, about 5 pages in, MG wearied of the ivory white dressed apple cheeked maidens, and fell asleep (remember, she had had a SHIT week at work), and forgot the thing in the airplane. What a waste of $6.
4) MG was talking to one of her unofficial bridesmaids last night, a lady that just joined grad school, when she got the earth-shattering news. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to make the wedding.”
When MG replied with…utter silence, the UoBM went on hurriedly. “I will make this up to you. I will be there, for your anniversaries. For the birth of your children.”
MG, struck dumb by spasms of upset, replied in her best impression of fifteen-year-old-high-school-girl dramatic fashion. “I can’t pretend that I’m not upset. But I realize that you can’t help it.”
And then came on here to write an anguished blog about friends and being the Bride of Zilla. And the moment she took a deep breath between feverish typing, she realized there might be another way.
“You could…maybe..miss a week of class?”
And MG was delighted to learn that the UoBM had actually not thought about that at all and would be willing to try that out.
Compromise, MG decided, is something that needs to be the first reaction, not emotional angst. It is a wedding, for chrissakes, not a…shoot, there seems to be no comparable analogy…oh! A Life/Death situation.
And MG realized also, that just because the UoBM wouldn’t be attending the wedding, maybe, didn’t make her any less of a friend, or that she wouldn’t be a part of the wedding either, because ten IMs later, UoBM said…”so, we’ve been talking about your bachelorette party. Where do you want to go?”
And that reduced MG to happy excitement again. Silly, she knew, that such a little thing could be such a big deal to her, but it made her feel like someone cared…cared enough to plan something for her. In Mexico.
5). MEXICO! That is all.