Wedding Attire Procured

Wedding gown is procured! I don't hate it, which was a relief. I'll like it more when I'm wearing boob-lifting, fat-squishing underwear. My bridesmaids had me model it for them and squealed their approval. Jen took it home with her so Rob won't see it accidentally. I telephoned everyone I knew to tell them about it. Now I need shoes and hair things.

35 days until the wedding. I can't wait for it to be over. I'm having a hell of a good time with the planning and all, but really, I'm ready to settle down again. The house has been a mess for weeks, and there never seems to be time to get it clean ("get up," you say "from your computer and clean it!" To which I say, "yeah, well.") Also, I have stupid things to think about, like linens, and coordinating portraits. These are things that I don't actually care about, but need to act as if, because if I don't, someone will make the decision for me, and that just isn't ok.

On the train ride home, I had to pee, and it crossed my mind that it would be absolutely horrible if there was a train wreck that instant that killed all the passengers, and they found everyone else in respectfully dead poses: gripping their children, clutching books or charred newspapers, and there I would be, bare-assed with my pants around my knees, soaked in pee. That would be my luck, too. I hate peeing in moving vehicles. Anyway.