Vitamin C-ya

Toxicity and symptoms of high intake:

Since ascorbic acid(vitamin C) is a water-soluble vitamin, toxic levels are not built up or stored in the body, and any excess is lost mostly through urine. If extremely large amounts are taken gastrointestinal problems may appear, but will normalize when the intake is cut or reduced. To determine a level where a person might experience discomfort is difficult, since some people can easily stomach up to 25,000 mg per day, while others start having a problem at 600 or 1,000 mg.
Some people using mega dose therapy of vitamin C may have side effects such as gastrointestinal complaints including diarrhea, nausea and abdominal cramps. These side effects normally stop as soon as high potency intake is reduced or stopped.

Remember the Doctor that told me to take 1,000mg of vitamin C a day? The one that wouldn’t give me any drugs because they caused diarrhea?

Yeah, THANKS A LOT DOC. Apparently I am in the percentage that doesn’t do well with excessive amounts of Vitamin C. And here I was upping the dose by eating an orange every morning as well!!!

Fracking idiot.

And this is what my mother said when I told her why I thought I wasn’t feeling well:

“Oh DH I'm so sorry I didn't realize you were taking vitamin C. That will give you the runs for sure. I remember that woman who worked at the club telling me that was one of the purposes of vitamin c - to clear your system so you'd get over the cold, flu, whatever.”

Confirmed by mom, who is not a medical professional, AT ALL.
I don't mean to over share here people. I don't feel that bathroom habits/occurrences are to be discussed with the public at large. However, in this case, I consider this a PSA (public services announcement).
And I didn't take ANY Vitamin C today. Not even the 200mg that was in my Daily Multi-Vitamin.
Yes, I checked the label to see how much was in there.
No, I didn't take any.
Yes, it was THAT bad of an experience.

Green Eyes Aren't Smiling

Today F is going to met up with his tax accountant, which is now, OUR tax accountant. Remember her? The one he dated, which he says he actually only e-mailed before dating me? The one that is now our tax accountant? The one that he was going to go visit after she had surgery? At her house? Yeah, that one. Well, it's tax time! And so this morning I handed over my tax info. None too pleased. There's just something about A Potential having my most intimate information. Plus? He's taking her to lunch. Yeah. She gets a free meal on us. Ok, him, but still.
I said, "Can't you just met for coffee? Do you really have to have lunch? With your ex?"
"She's not my Ex. We never dated. We barely e-mailed."
"Emm, right."
"Stop being weird about this."
Raised eyebrow, "Right. Weird. Your Ex."
Loud *sigh* from F.
So my Irish Eyes? Are not smiling.
They are flashing a tad bit of the green eyed monster.
Not the best color green to be sporting.
A Potential.
Most INTIMATE Information.(outside of medical records.)
FLASH FLASH
Maybe I should wear sunglasses for the rest of the day.

Ms. Snippy

Let me just start off by saying I've worked with these people for over 10yrs, so all the things that bother me now, have been building for the last 10yrs.

A few years after I started this job we(the students, I was a student when I started) decided that a potluck would be fabulous to have to celebrate some holiday. It went over amazingly. So imagine my surprise when Ms. Snippy slams into me about having another one when the next holiday rolls around.
"What makes you think everyone wants to have another one?! You didn't even ASK us if we want to participate! You just put up a sign up sheet!!!!"

I was of course speechless, especially since the potluck wasn't my idea. I think I told her she didn't have to bring anything if she didn't want to.

Over the years there has been many complaints about birthdays and who should bring what and who should buy what. I'm still holding out for us not doing anything, but I don't see that happening anytime soon.

So, yesterday Ms. Snippy stops by my cube and informs me(not asks) that, "Tomorrow is our Boss' birthday. Ms. Nosey is making the cupcakes, and I got a card and am going to pick up flowers. So that'll be a few dollars each."

I beg your pardon?!?!?! Did you ASK me if I wanted to participate in this? And YOU are just ASSuming that I'm willing to chip in for flowers????!!!!!
And then when they decided it was time to give said items to the Boss, they just barged into her office, WHILE SHE WAS ON THE PHONE. That was a BUSINESS call no less.

Is it just me?
Am I just a cranky 30-something?
Or are these women just out of line?

Things.....

I'm Finding Out That F doesn't Like...

1. Eggs, over easy. And God bless him for it, because I hate them too and therefore have no idea how to cook them.



2. Potatoes. "In large amounts. I've never eaten this many potatoes." I'm Irish, so potatoes? 'Nough said.



3. Instant Potatoes. "I like REAL mashed potatoes." Yes, I love me some potatoes, but I'm a lazy Irish Potato lover. Peel? Boil? Mash? And you want me to do all this so we can eat within the next 30mins? Dream on.



4. When I'm "negative". He thinks I should be more supportive when something he does goes wrong. He sees it as negativity, I see it as honesty.

Ok, so I know there are more, they are just evading me at the moment.

Take A Hint

I'm sitting in a co-worker's office and we are chatting. Another co-worker comes by and pops her head(we don't care for her much.)
"Are you working?"
"Yes." I croak out.
"OOOOh are you sick?"
"Yes."
"Well I just need to ask you a question."

ok, hold on a sec. I just told you I was in the middle of work with someone else, but you think it's ok to just butt in? so not cool.

"I need this information. Do you know if it's in the system?"
"I honestly don't know."
"Well I'm working with these people and they want to know XYZ."
"Like I said, I don't know if it's in there. I'd need ABC to find out if there is XYZ."
"So, how would that work? I give you the request and you research it?"

PARDON? This woman is notorious for passing her work off to other people.

"Ah, NOOOOOO. You and your people would do the research to find ABC and from there we could maybe locate XYZ."
"Oh."

She has pushed her way into meetings, interviews(which she didn't attend) and into offices, when the door is shut, and she isn't "waved in". She's handed off work to people who are already overloaded, and if you are on the phone, she'll stand there and wait, instead of coming back later.

We need to start some basic manners training for people, I swear. When I was in 2nd grade I had a teacher who ingrained it into our little heads that you stand there and don't speak until you are recognized by her looking up at you. I follow this protocol to this day. And if someone is on the phone, you go away until they hang up.

Apparently, I either have really good manners, or the mentality of a 7yr old.

Not Laughing

Conversation last night with F while I was engrossed in a novel:

F: "So, we have 2 weeks left until we'll need to break up."

Me: "Huh?"

F: "You know, after we get our results back from Father."

Narrowed eye glare.(from me of course.)
Me: "Yeah, I guess so."

F: *sigh* "Never mind. Go back to your book."

Me: "Ok."

Fill in the Circle COMPLETELY

So, I made it through the PMI. My future with F is hanging on the results of a SCANTRON. Yes, fill in the circle, really it was a minuscule rectangle, completely, do not X, do not Circle, fill in completely, flashback to college inducing 140 question SCANTRON. I’m not sure Father got my joke when I asked, “Is this a timed test?” F tattled on me and told the Father that I’ve been worrying about this “test.” Thanks F. So I got a light lecture on how I shouldn’t worry all the red flags will be discussed, AT LENGTH when the results come back.

IN THREE WEEKS.
*GULP*

Father sharpened our pencils, took F into a different room and left us, alone. Completely on our honor to stay in our assigned rooms and not cheat. We did not. Cheat that is.
The first question? “My future husband and I have many interests in common.” Oh, um, gosh, not so much. That would be “Disagree”. Not looking so good so far.
It went on like that. “My future husband and I agree about finances”. “My future husband and I have many friends in common.” “My future husband and I have the same religious beliefs.” YIKES! No we don’t. F is waaaaay more devote than I am. He still says his prayers every night before bed.

“I feel that my future in-laws may interfere with our lives.” Agree
“I feel that my future husband’s parents don’t approve of me.” Agree
“I feel uncomfortable around certain family members of my future husband.” Agree
Those questions are Four Alarm Fire Red Flag territory.

“I feel comfortable with my body.” Seriously? I’m a female, how is that even a fair question?
“I feel I have sufficient knowledge of sexual things.” Or something like that, basically, they were asking if I know enough about what sex is about. In fact, I think that was one of the questions. Agree. I am a whore.
Some of the questions made me giggle.
Some of the questions made me think.
Some of the questions made me worry.
Some of the questions made me wonder if F knew what they were asking. English is not his first language after all.
I was honest. And I felt so much better after it was done. I wondered of course how F was answering the questions about my family. We talked about it later, as Father said we would, and we answered differently on the first question. F looked at it differently than I did, and then of course I wanted to change my answer. He told me there were some he skipped over and came back to later. He said some of his answers would not make me happy. I told him the same would be true for him. He seems to think that if Father tells us we shouldn’t get married; we can wait 6 months and work on things. Or if we decide not to get married at all, I can live with him until I sell my house. HUH??? If we aren’t getting married, why would I sell my house? Maybe he said until he sells HIS house. He also said we could just continue to live together. Um, no. I want my babies to be legit. When the time comes, that is.
So, another 3 weeks of waiting. I’m going to try and not think about it this time around.

Yeah, that’ll happen.

My Apple is Rotten

Dr Blah Blah? Is a blithering idiot. This is the same guy I saw last time. I don’t want to see him again. He is not my assigned doctor. I think he is the pick-up doctor. You know, the guy who gets all the extra patients the real doctors don’t have time to see? Yeah, lucky me.

He looked at me, “Have we met before?”
“Um, yeah.”
“You look familiar.” His brow furrowed quizzically.
DUDE! I just said we’d met before! Stop sniffing the anti-anxiety meds while transcribing your medical notes!
“So, you’re not feeling well.” Oh my god, here we go again. Damn you Shane!
“Yes, I think I have bronchitis.” I totally do sound like a man, btw.
“Em, well you know Bronchitis is anything dealing with your bronchial.”

Merriman Webster
Main Entry: bron·chi·tis
Pronunciation: brän- k t- s, brä -Function: noun
Bronchitis is an inflammation of the main air passages to the lungs. Bronchitis may be short-lived (acute) or chronic, meaning that it lasts a long time and often recurs.

“Right.”

“Well, let’s have a listen to your lungs. Breath for me.”

During the 3rd breathing exercise I fall into a coughing fit.
No comment from Doctor Blah Blah.

“Well ok, your bronchial are swollen. I suggest you just take some extra Vitamin C, 1000 mg a day. I find this really does help. (he told me last time too.) Buy some of your favorite decongestant (pause as he waits for me to name it, I don’t.) And get lots of rest.”

I look at him dumbfounded. I go for one last ditch effort to score the drugs.
“Um, ok, the last time I had this it lasted for 2 months.”

“Really? Well, that’s unusual.”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! That’s UNUSUAL?!?!?!!?!?!? Is “unusual” even allowed to be used medically??? As per the definition above, I would think that qualifies for “Chronic.”

“Ah, yes.”
“Well, take the Vitamin C and get lots of rest. Seriously, (concerned look) lots of rest. We could all use more rest with our busy lives, right?”
“Riiight.” Do I look that bad?
“ I think right now Antibiotics would just give you diarrhea.(this is true) Lots of rest. (that’s FOUR times he’s mentioned rest. I must look like hell.) And if you don’t get better by Friday, come on back and see us.”
“Ok.”
You know, I have no problem with holistic medicine. I’d rather go the route of non-chemicals, but damn brother! Hook a girl up when she tells you the Vitamin C isn’t cutting it!

As I relayed this in shorthand to F later that evening over the pizza my sweetie picked-up so I wouldn’t have to cook, he says to me, “So you’re staying home tomorrow, right?”
“I can’t I’m behind at work.” (this in no way of course is affected by my Blogging….)


Tomorrow, the visit with the Priest and the dreaded PMI…………………

An Apple a Day......

I haven’t been feeling well for the last few days. I spent almost the entire day in bed yesterday. Then of course I couldn’t sleep last night. The coughing started around 5 pm last night. This morning, it got worse. And my lungs hurt with each semi-racking cough. So I called the doctor as I was driving to work to get an appointment. Normally, they are happy to make you an appointment and collect your insurance money. Apparently, things have changed. The receptionist put me through to a nurse, so I could explain my symptoms and see if anything could be done without seeing the doctor. (Huh? Free medical advice?) The nurse that answered? A male nurse. This completely threw me at first. I never said I’m impervious to society’s assigned stereo types. Anyway, Shane (my male nurse) asked me a few question:
“Why do you want to see the doctor?”
so i can chop you all into a million pieces “I think I have bronchitis.” I croak out like a frog.
“What are your symptoms?”
besides the fact that i sound, as my co-worker put it ‘manly’? “Coughing, and there’s mucus involved. I’ve had bronchitis before. ”
“Soar throat?”
“Yes.”
“Ear pain?”
my ears are burning right now because you won’t just make me an appointment already! “Oh yes.”
“Emhm. Fever?”
sweet heaven, just take my money! “Um, not that I’m aware of.”
“Ok, can you come in today?”
no, i’m calling for next month when my untreated bronchitis turns into pneumonia. “Yes, what time?”
“2 o’clock with Doctor Blah Blah.”
“Great, thanks.”

Are they screening out the hypochondriacs? I mean, seriously. I told you at the beginning that I’ve had this before. I know what it feels like. Come on Shane! Some patients aren’t weirdoes! And I TOLD you I had insurance. Along with my DOB and Name. So the bill will get paid.

So when I go in at 2, wait for 40mins to see the Dr., and he starts asking me the same damned questions, can I tell him to just ask Shane?


P.S. F just called. Said I sound real attractive and wanted to know if I want to cancel tonight. Tonight we go see the Priest again and this time we are taking the PMI. I said no because I want to stop worrying about taking it and start worrying about if we are going to pass it or not.
“DH, are you seriously worried about this?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not pass or fail you know.”
(Um, yeah it kinda is when you have the Priest tell you that out of the 10 people he told that they “failed” 9 didn’t get married and the 10th one showed up in his office after 8 months wanting a divorce. Plus an older friend, she’s in her 40’s, told me her Priest told her the same thing and they got married anyway, and then divorced.)
“Emhmm.”
“I seriously haven’t given it another thought. It must be a woman thing.” (his explanation for many things I worry about and he never even considers.)
“Yeah, it’s a woman thing.”



Update: That fever Shane asked me if I had? Yeah, jerk jinxed me cause now I have it. Thanks for nothing Shane!

And So It Continues

BM dresses have been decided.


Now I've turned my attention to the BM's shoes. At first I considered open toe until my CBF reminded me that we'll all be wearing nylons and hence the seam would show which is, as we all know, a fashion faux pas. I've been stuck on the idea that I want them all to have the same shoes. But, since the dresses are floor length, pictures showing mis-matched shoes is not really an issue. So now I'm considering just letting them pick out a black shoe of their choosing. But here are where some issues arise. My friend on the East Coast wore bedazzled tennis shoes under her wedding dress. I don't want her wearing bedazzled tennis shoes under her BM dress. If she had some kind of foot/knee issue where wearing heels would place her in pain, then I would give her a pass. But she has no ailment that I am aware of. Ballerina slippers? To me that is just kind of a coop out. Unless you are like 6yrs old. (which my flower girl is, and even she wears her patten leathers with heels.) Plus, it's not like I'm asking them to wear 6" hooker heels. And CBF? I can see her arriving a few days before the wedding in need of said shoes and me having to try and find time to take her shopping knowing full well she'll go for the Payless shoes and then complain that they hurt her feet.

Am I over thinking this?

As my friend from Europe told me : "I've spent more time thinking about your wedding than I did my own!"

Can I put conditions on their shoes? ie Must have heel?

Would I be a total bitch for doing that?

Will black shoes even look good with Bordeaux dresses?


In my hunt for the prefect BM shoe, and with the new realization that I can't really do peep toe/open toe with hose, I've rethought my shoe choices and have come up with some new ones.

1) I don't LOVE this one, I wanted a little "Bling" on my shoes. But it'd do.



2)Bling! But I'm afraid my Polish feet would mush out through the hole in the top there.




3)Pretty! Simple Bling. Little higher heel, but still managable.



4) Mucho Bling! Lower heel, but again, Polish foot mush possibility.






And will someone PLEASE tell me how it is that a Satin Dyeable shoe is $445????? Does Vera come and SEW it around your foot or something?





It doesn't even have any expensive BLING on it! And it only comes in a 6.5!!!!

Boys

A conversation with F last night:

Me: "I think I'm getting sick. Everyone at work said I sound funny, and I can hear it too."
F: "You sound fine. I live with you and I say you sound fine. If you are getting sick are we canceling dinner on Saturday?"
Me: "I don't sound fine and I don't know yet."

A conversation with F this morning:

Me: "Blah blah blah blah." ( I don't remember what I was saying.)
F: "Why do you sound so funny????"

Instant Gratification

I love the internet. Often my friends and I wonder what we ever did without the net. We'll be in the midst of a conversation about something and one of us will say, "well just Google it." My Christmas shopping is so much easier via the net. Wedding items are found via the net. Fiances are found via the net. Bills are paid ON TIME via the net. You can find ANYTHING, ANYONE via the net.
Knowing things are easier this way I've purchased F V-Day flowers. Plus, they were on sale. FTD promised delivery and I figured him getting them a day early would be a wonderful surprise. Especially since he works with mostly men. I purchased said flowers from FTD Monday afternoon. Tuesday morning I recieved an e-mail from DHL with a tracking number. OH THE JOY! I could track the progress and know EXACTLY when F got his flowers. I tracked them from FL to OH to a city within my state. At 7:53 this morning they were with the courier.
At 2pm I check their progress again and see this:

Shipment delivered.

Delivered on: 2/13/2008 1:26 pm
Delivered to: Receptionist
Signed for by: [redacted]

Oh HAPPINESS! F should be calling soon! He'll be all red faced(i'll hear it through the phone) and boyish about his early V-Day flowers. Hearts and flowers of happiness.

It's 3:22pm, F has not called.

I check again. Yes, they were delivered, and signed for, but then I check the address of delivery, it is the correct address but does not have F's name on it! Just the business'.
Does the signee not know to whom the package should go?
Wouldn't the signee open said package and then see the card?
Is F not in the office and therefore is unaware of said package?
If F comes straight home instead of going back to the office, will the flowers die because I was too cheap to cough up for the vase?
Is F in possession of the package and is just messing with my mind knowing I'd be going stir crazy wondering if he got the package????
Damn the net!
Damn it's tracking abilities!
Damn the lack of instant gratification!

Update: 5:18pm F just called, not a WORD mentioned by him about the flowers. I think he is messing with me.

Update: 02/14 9:58am Last night at 8:45pm F confessed that he did indeed receive his flowers and had kept silent because he knew it would drive me batty. He said he was going to hold out until THIS evening.

Gotta love a man who knows you so well.

Dream a Little Dream

I had another dream about F and I. This time I wasn't cheating. No, this time, I was whipping my engagement ring back in his face in a fit of rage. My Matron of Honor standing next to me the entire time. She's never even met F. The only thing I can think is that this all stems from the stress I feel because he hasn't given me his guest list yet, even though I've been asking.
And the stress from re-doing the family room.
And the stress of not sleeping, because he just won't stop SNORING!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here, There and Everywhere

Over the weekend I had to go to a funeral for a co-worker’s parent. Actually it was the viewing the night before the actual funeral. Anyway, I was horrified to see one of the 20something grandkids sporting a short skirt and CFM boots that had her knee-high plaid very “Clueless” sock peeking over top of them. At a funeral?? One of her cousins was sporting flip flops, in 30 degree weather!
Am I getting old, or was this totally as inappropriate as I think it is?

On the way to work today, along the freeway connector I saw 2 hats laying along the side of the road. Both with a thin layer of frost over them. The hats? They were those 1920 gangster hats.


Weird, right? Just lying there, along the side of the road? They were about 20ft apart.

Today, as with everyday, I was late for work. So I semi-curled my hair and pulled it back into a clip. I noticed a slight color difference in one section and just chalked it up to the light or just the way my hair was laying. Until I just went into the bathroom, and decided to take a closer look. GRAY HAIR! A big huge chunk of GRAY HAIR. Now granted, I’ve had gray hair since I was like 25, and I’ve been doing my duty as a female by applying cancer causing chemicals to my head on a regular basis. I knew it was time to color again, and thank the gods I bought the stuff last night, because DAMUMMN sistah! I need some serious coverage! Makes me want to put a hat on it’s so bad.

BM dresses have been picked! Thanks to my sisters coming along with me this weekend we have decided on this, in Bordeaux.





Granted, it’s long, and I know, everything I was looking at was short. However, my Sisters feel that long would look good on everyone, and because it’s a late afternoon wedding it would be better. So, phew! One less thing to stress about!
Of course, CBF e-mails me after seeing the pic sent to the all the other BMs with this little gem of good feeling: “I’m going to look horrible in that.”
*Sigh* Bring on the vodka.

Things........

....We learn as Children and Don’t Even Realize It

Over the course of the last few years, I’ve come to realize that many of the rules and habits and well, hot button items I have can be traced directly back to my childhood, and more specifically; my mother. It’s always the mother’s fault, right? I’m not blaming her; I want to make that clear. I recognize now how extremely hard it had to be to be on her own for the first time in her life, left to raise 4 children after my father passed away at the age of 46. As I spend time with F, I can’t possibly imagine losing him at 46. It really scares me.

However, that is not today’s topic. Today is about me, and my Crazy, and how I’m coming to recognize where it stems from. She was a, no, IS good mother, and I love her dearly, especially now, with the wedding. God bless her and her non-meddling self. There are things that drive me nuts, pull my hair out crazy. Things I learned from my mom, rules, house rules, life rules, that if broken; send me over the edge. You use a knife to spread butter, jelly, or what have you on your bread. Not a spoon. You do not place cold water in a hot pan, or a hot pan in cold water, it will warp it. You do not pour hot grease down the sink. It’ll plug it. You do not use a baking spatula to fry eggs, or turn meat in a hot pan; you use a flipper, or a pancake turner, as some call it. A baking spatula will melt from the heat. You use a step out towel for the shower so the floor doesn’t get wet. Everything must be put away in Tupperware or baggies, after a meal. Nothing is left in the pan it was made it, and then placed in the fridge. If you take something out, put it back where you got it. (This one actually comes from my dad and his tools.) When I tell you not to do something, you don’t continue to do it, especially if it’s something you are doing to me. I should not have to explain myself, No means No. This last one, oh how I remember the frustration and hurt and anger in my mother’s voice when my father would continue to torment her after she told him to stop. I’m not stupid because I am a woman. Do not treat me like a child. This one is more recent. This one stems from the relationship my mother has with her current boyfriend, of 20+yrs. I could see it in her face before she would even say it, I can still see it in her face sometimes when F and I are bickering. She thinks that he thinks we don’t know what we are talking about because we are women.
It’s an odd realization to discover your feelings are that of your mother. To stop and say, I feel this way because I saw how my mother felt when XYZ happened to her. I was talking to my cousin about relationships last year, she’s a psychologist. And I told her how crazy it makes me when F does things “wrong” i.e. using a spoon as opposed to a knife.
She laughed, “I do that too. It’s the Family Crazy. We get it from our mothers. So when I feel the Family Crazy coming on, I try to say to myself, ‘this is the Family Crazy that’s making me feel this way, using a spoon really isn’t going to hurt anything.’”
I was amazed. She knew exactly what I was talking about. When I mentioned it to my mother? “Yes, I can see that.”
So now, I try to get a hold on the Family Crazy. It’s not easy. Many times I just can’t understand why F doesn’t just follow the “rules”. To me, it makes sense. Makes things ordered and easier, especially when/if there are kids.

Seriously, he’d be able to find his wallet if he just put back where he got it from!

Waste of Make-Up

Our home remodel is well underway. Not finished in a day, as I was lead to believe, but I am willing to live with it being done piece-meal. Sunday I got a bit of a reprieve from work in order to go look for Bride’s Maid dresses and to get what Eldest Sister refers to as my “Foundation Garment” so we can begin on The Dress. I slept in while F was out doing hobby type stuff. As he came home I left. I drove to the town where I knew I could find my “Foundation Garment” and also where a dress shop carries some of the BM dresses I’m considering.
The shops were CLOSED. All 3 shops, 1 lingerie shop and two bridal shops, CLOSED. On Supper Bowl Sunday, when most Supper Bowl widows would be out shopping.
I understand that it’s suppose to be a day of rest for those that follow the religious doctrine, however, in this day and age, many stores are open for they follow the doctrine of the Almighty Dollar. When I talked to Second Eldest about it she was all “Well DUH!” until I said to her, “But, most women work now-a-days! When else can you get your Party together if not on the weekend?!?!!?”
“True.”
So I ask you, Dear Bridal Shop Keeper, what is your reasoning behind being closed on Sunday? Do you not know that many of the women today only have weekends in which to do serious shopping? This is a huge event, Bridal Shop Keeper, where you most likely will sell many dresses, in my case, 8. But you deny me! With your darkened windows and ghostly mannequins. You increase my stress level.
You cause me to fear my Eldest Sister who demands, “Did you buy your Foundation Garment YYYYYEEEET?!?!?!!? We need to get started on The Dress in case you don’t like it so you still have time to order one!!!!”

“I have not!” I am forced to cry in response. “The store wasn’t open!”

And again, Bridal Shop Keeper, my stress level goes up even more with the notion that if I do indeed hate The Dress I’ll discover it on a Sunday; when you’ll have your doors locked against my business and I will be left, dress less, crying in the streets of a strange town where the well heeled patrons of Starbucks pass by, careful not to spill their double cap soy lattes on the distressed Bride who gathers their cast off napkins to fashion together a dress that is held together with ABC gum!

I lay this tragedy at your gloomy, cold stoop Bridal Shop Keeper. May you take pity on the fragile shell of a woman who huddles in your dank doorway……….........when you re-open come Monday.