Current Husband is in the shower and thinks I am getting the kids ready for our 3-hour car ride this morning to his grandmother's 90th birthday. But instead, I am writing a quick note to you, Wifers. I love you all, of course, but this is my modus operandi - when I want to avoid something, I simply find something else I'd rather do until I get caught, and then I can bring on a mean martyr complex. I want to go to the birthday party, but I hate the ride.
SO the Hooker Convention was fun, but I'm sore. There are a lot of great hookers out there, it's intimidating.
Can you believe someone hooked this picture with tiny strips of wool?
What did you THINK I was talking about?
I get back from the Hooker Convention at about 8 p.m. Thursday, kick back a shot of Nyquil, and go to bed. The alarm goes off at 4:30 a.m., and after a moment of confusion, I jump out of bed and drive to the home of some friends, one of whom is a Brit. A legit Brit. He is too legit to quit being Brit, but he is also now an American. He had donuts and Starbucks and running commentary on the wedding in a British accent, while watching it on the BBC. *bliss* Then I raced off to make lunches at 7:30, get to work, get home at 4:30 p.m. and watch the royal wedding again.
Because my friend Mark is dying to hear my opinion on the wedding, I will give you a bulleted synopsis:
- Dress- Loved it. And I did have lace sleeves on my wedding dress, which I am sure influenced Kate when she saw my wedding on TV when she was 14.
- Pippa - Sex on a stick. Who was getting laid after the reception?
- Oh, that would be Harry. Maybe with Pippa instead of his sort of frumpy looking Chelsey Davey. Did she borrow her great aunt's suit for the wedding?
- Fergie's girls - I hate to say it, but they got their mom's fashion sense.
- William - when did you lose all that hair?