A girl must always be prepared.
I've been trying to be good the past week or so since I have one final wedding to attend this summer. One for which I serve as the Maid of Honor. For instance, at Chez Nous this weekend, I forced my deliciously-soft-and-chewy-on-the-inside-yet-perfectly-crispy-crunchy-on-the-outside french roll on MFDC. He took it like a Man, which is more than I can say for the suit-shopping experience that followed.
Also, with the exception of 5 minutes ago when I housed that brownie as quickly as its incredible richness would allow, I've been trying to limit my sugar intake. I tried to exercise last night with MFDC but got such painful exercise hives we had to stop early. Apparently, I am allergic to exercise. It happened a few times in NYC, but it's definitely been more pronounced here in Los Angeles.
How is this possible?
Well, in my internet research I have discovered that, for some, it comes and goes in phases. Judging by how many times this has happened recently, I would say there's a big ol' green light for histamines in my blood right now. Also, it's aggravated by cool, dry weather. Well, it was cool last night and everybody knows that Los Angeles is dryer than a [insert disgusting female genitalia functionality metaphor here].
So, last night I was doomed. I felt bad for MFDC. I think I freaked him out a little bit. It truly was painful and I am a whiner. I wanted to drop my pants and scrape my thighs against the sidewalk. It was friggin' itchy as HELL.
I'll just have to stay away from things that aggravate it (wheat, stress, impending financial disaster), as well as take some Claritin before I exercise. The kind without the crack in it.
Speaking of crack, have you heard about Cheese heroin? Apparently, it's all the rage for bored kids in the southwest. Anyway, when I read the headline on CNN.com about cheese heroin, I thought, "Hmmm... heroin in cheese. Mmmmmmm... cheeeeeeeese."
I don't really know how to segue from cheese heroin to my beautiful sister's upcoming nuptials, so I'll just tell you that I've been writing my speech for Cindy and Jason's reception in my head, but I've only gotten as far as the first line. I'm a terrific procrastinator when it comes to writing projects, as well as... well, pretty much everything else in my life. I'm currently examining why this is at the rate of $100 an hour. But that is neither here nor there.
My point being: I probably won't have the rest of the speech written until I'm actually standing in the room, a tall blue sausage with a microphone, a hundred pairs of eyes expectantly waiting for me to wax poetic about my sister and the love of her life. I'm sure I'll get emotional. I hope to get a laugh or two. I hope Cindy and Jason like it. But mostly I hope that, by that point, I will not have had so much to drink that THIS ends up happening:
Yeah. There's video, too.
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