Gentle readers, you know so many things. And I am stuck on the answers to several quandaries. Perhaps you can offer me some advice on the following matters, each of which has been plaguing me for the last couple of days. There is a beauty question, a technology question, and a food question, so all the bases are covered. Ah, we will solve the mysteries of the universe, you and I!
Is there anything I could have done today that would have made me feel more like a redneck than having a fight with someone in a Wal-Mart parking lot? Maybe if I'd been swigging from a 40, or wearing a Nascar t-shirt with Little Debbie snack cake stains on it, or maybe if Sean had been my cousin and his name had been Bubba and I'd been kissing him, but otherwise I'm guessing yelling at someone in a Wal-Mart parking lot is probably pretty high on the list of Redneck Activities, wouldn't you think?
As you may or may not remember, my friend Jemima is getting married in June. She is the first of my friends to walk down the aisle, and she is also providing me with my Inaugural Bridesmaid's Experience (henceforth referred to as IBE, not to be confused with IBS.) Luckily, the dresses she has chosen for the bridal party are floor-length, simple, a beautiful champagne color, and made from shantung silk.
Man, that Costco. Isn't it great?
My dad taught me to drive, and to do Sudoku puzzles, and how to shade the iris of an eye in a life drawing to make it look real. He taught me to pack a suitcase properly, and how to ski better, and when I was 13 or 14, he taught me how to play the guitar. The first thing he showed me was a series of three very easy chords; the kind of thing everyone learns to play in the beginning.
There are two famous people in Charleston today: Martha Stewart and Dick Cheney. One I'd like to poke repeatedly in the eye with a sharp stick, the other I'd like to ask about fashioning cute placemats from leftover grosgrain ribbon. I'll leave it up to you to decide which is which.
Last night I stayed up late, drinking red wine in Lovely Neighbor Stacy's kitchen with Lovely Neighbor Stacy and Thespian Libby, who is only five years younger than my mother, but can drink me under the table. This morning I came into work at 9:47am and didn't apologize to anyone. I just said "hangover," by way of explanation and then ate four pieces of bread in quick succession.
So although my sister is still dateless for The Most Important Social Event of the High School Season---although it's not until June, so maybe a handsome young transfer student will swoop in at the last minute, or wait, am I confusing her life with Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield's?---she has at least found a dress! Thank you all so much for your lovely links and suggestions, and thank you also for my credit card bill following that post because, what?