At first, I was going to write a “Letters” post. Then, I changed my mind and though a Bullets post would be good. That I switched back to Letters. So now? Now you get a mess of a post with both.
I am at a loss as to what to wear for my rehearsal. LOSS! Casual? A little dressy? Shlumpy? Maybe something will catch my eye when I go shopping next time. Although nothing did when I went last weekend (which was extremely disappointing!)
One of Kyle’s best friends from high school is getting married as well in the summer and we sent our RSVP marked “Accepts” with plenty of time before the due date. This same friend has yet to mail his back for our wedding (due date next week) and sent Kyle a message on Facebook stating that he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to make it due to finances, but – he’d like Kyle to attend the bachelor party – in Vegas. Make any sense to you? Me neither. Neither of us knows how to respond to that.
Please stop addressing me as “Karen,” especially when everyone else calls me by my actual name. Next time, I’ll correct you. Boo-yah.
That’s Kara, not Kar-EN.
I just realized my watch was still an hour behind from Daylight Savings Time. It’s a good thing I don’t actually use it to tell the time, only to look professional.
I don’t like how you’ve moved from my throat into my sinuses. I’m taking this as an “Up and Out” process to which you’ll actually leave my body and let me get some rest once and for all.
I have been informed that the only time all my bridesmaids can get together for my Staggette is two days before my wedding. *sigh* I’m thinking I’m just going to forgo the Staggette, have a bitchin’ birthday (which is a month before the wedding anyway) and have a lovely shower on that day instead. There’s too much to do the day before the wedding, and I can’t afford to be hungover and useless. I can’t even say I’ll take it “easy” and not get crazy drunk, because that’s the only kind of drunk I get when I’m celebrating. I’m classy that way. I don’t even really care about having a Staggette. Really.
Kyle worked his first two night shifts Monday and Tuesday and it’s thrown us both off a little. He doesn’t know what day it is and I’m starting to lose track too. *sigh* Welcome to the life of a shift worker’s wife (to-be)!
I’d really like you to get here. Stop toying with me. I don’t appreciate waking up to sun and putting on shorts only to have to change into long pants an hour later. At least you did that to me before I left for work. Although now that I’m here, it’s GORGEOUS outside. Quit playin’ games (With my heart). (Yes, I just quoted Backstreet Boys) (Don’t tell me you didn’t notice)
Dear Little Black Flats,
I love how cute you are and how comfortable you are on my feet now that you’re broken in, but I absolutely HATE how smelly you make my feet. Seriously. Odor-Eaters don’t even help. You’re lucky you’re the only comfy pair of cute spring work shoes I own.
I shall now leave you with a video I shot with my phone of my Mom’s crazy cat, being spun around in his box by my brother. What I didn’t catch on the video is the cat going back into the box while it was still on its side and it falling back over with him in it.