Well, I’m back. It was a whirlwind trip but I’m back and congested. Boo. L I made the train, feeling pretty good, just a little tired. I had big carb-filled breakfast, I was still under the impression that I was going to be drinking. I found a seat on the train and settled in to nap. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the seat next to me. So I sat next to this girl who insisted on talking most of the trip. I tried to be nice. It didn’t matter long, I ended up getting sick. I think I was going through caffeine withdrawal. I had a headache. Now, I suffer from migraines and I am use to suffering through them. They are NOT fun! So, I went down to the café car, asked for pain killers, a cup of coffee and a giant cookie. Back in my seat I proceeded to dose myself. I was NOT going to get sick for this. I didn’t want to be the wet blanket.


I get to Deerborn, get a Whopper and a large coffee and get dropped off at the house. I scarf the Whopper and start to get ready. The bridesmaids get a psychic reading, I was third. She told me that I have a very stable and supportive relationship, I will get married, and there will be money for bills. Whew! That’s a relief. She said that The Boy will get a job in February or March. She also knew that I’ve been having a lot of back troubles and told me to be careful what I carried. I’m one of those stubborn people, I don’t care how heavy it is…I’ll try to carry it. But for the last couple weeks, I’ve been having troubles even bending over. It was cool. I’m tempted to get another reading, but I just don’t have the money to spend.


I was kind of hit and miss the whole night, I would have bursts of energy. There would be times where my head wouldn’t hurt as much as other times. Mostly on the LimoBus where the light was a weird blue color and hurt my eyes. I felt better in the bars. They were dark, but then they still allow smoking in the bars so that hurt my nose and eyes, but I still had fun. A bunch of white girls dressed up like pirates and singing Journey at the top of their lungs at a karaoke bar, it was crazy fun!


By the end of the night everyone was drunk, there was typical girl drama, there was a coup to over throw the brides desires to karaoke, but overall, it was a fun night. The maid of honor and sister of the bride did a great job. I think one of the best parts of the party was that there was no phallic presence. No blow up penises, no light up penises, no penis crown, nothing to point to men at all. We were just a bunch of girls dressed up to party! I don’t think anyone tried to pick up a guy, no one caught making out with random men, just dancing and drinking! SO MUCH FUN!!!


My ride back to the city was pretty uneventful. I downed some NiteQuil and passed out. I was chastised by The Boy when I got back. I’ll admit that I left a mess in the kitchen, but I don’t think he takes count of the times I do dishes either. I think his sense of time is fucked up cuz he doesn’t leave the apartment for work. Therefore, he only sees the messes I make. No matter how many times I bring up his messes that I find from his late night meals, or the fact that I cleaned up after the Christmas meal that I spent the whole day making! Or the fact that I do all the grocery shopping and most of the cooking(if left to him we would eat out every night, not good on the empty purse strings). I’m tempted to start a tally sheet, but if he sees a tally sheet that means he’ll probably do more to make me look bad. Any suggestions? I’m not saying either one of us is right, and I don’t think that keeping a running tally is the way to go either…. I’m just not sure how to resolve this issue. I’m pretty sure that once he gets a job outside the apartment he’ll probably feel like we are on more even ground. I dread that though, might have to hire a maid! At least to clean the bathroom or do the deep cleaning! I hate those parts. L


One more thing…. My friend is great person. She’s driven and dedicated. When she decides on something, she gets it. She’ll work her tail off for it. I’m more of the fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda girl. I find that most plans that are made get ruined somehow. I make small goals and let the rest fall where it may. I envy her life. I wish that I could get what I wanted. I have always wanted the fairytale wedding and good guy who dotes on me hand and foot(figuratively speaking), I want the guy who wants to make me happy and is willing to make those big plans with me. Unfortunately, I am not that kinda girl. When I think about getting married, the thoughts of the planning and all the people that I would have to get involved frightens me beyond belief. I think about me as a little girl. I never dreamed about my wedding. I never found the perfect dress, I never picked my bridesmaids or colors or flowers. To me, the most important part of the wedding was the union, the marriage, my husband and partner. I dreamed more of what it would be like AFTER the wedding.  You think that means something? Like, maybe I wasn’t meant to have the planned happy family. I mean, I can’t imagine trying to PLAN when I want to have a baby, I want it to be a surprise. I don’t want a big wedding, more of a chance to make myself look like a fool. I would, however, like to feel comfortable financially and comfortable discussing finances. That is the scariest thing for me. I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I like the little surprises. I don’t like having a plan, it means that you have to follow it. A plan means that too many things can go wrong. Without a plan, anything can happen. I could move to L.A. if I wanted. Or become a lumberjack. Or a deep sea diver. I like keeping my options open, but I guess it means that I have to realize that I have to give up some of my childhood dreams.


When looking at my friend and her fiancé, they look like a motley pair, but really, the more I think about it, the more I see why they are together. They are the same in SO many ways. Congrats guys!


Live Long and Prosper!