On Sunday I went to a wedding shower.
Now, to be honest, I hate wedding showers. I don’t know anyone who likes them. I spent so much time banquet waitressing the things that the mere thought makes me want to scour my face with a borox-and-lye bouquet. But this shower was pretty cool, mostly because I really like the bride, but also because it included an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. (Crab Rangoons? FUCK YEAH.)
I also got to chat with the groom-to-be, who functioned as my Partner in Crime and Frustration at my previous job. He’s really good with his money, unlike some of us, and has money set aside for retirement, emergency insurance, a housing down-payment, and probably other things, I don’t know. He kind of makes me want to puke, actually, now that I think about it.
Something about attending wedding showers makes me realize that I’ve reached a “point” in my “life” where i should “do things” like “owning stuff”. Like maybe a bookshelf instead of milk crates, or a real bed instead of a secondhand futon. I don’t really know WHY I haven’t traded up, and maybe that will happen when we move into the new place, but for now, whatever. Love me, love my milkcrate bookshelves.
Also love my shit-for-brains car, which I dropped at the repair shop this morning. The fucking thing wouldn’t even hold an idle, and it seems that I need a new ignition coil, along with new spark plugs and wires, probably an air filter and an oil change too.
So the bride-to-be and I were chatting about wedding things, and I asked where THEY were going on their honeymoon. Her answer?
“We’re buying a house”
WE owe the first/last/security situation with the new place, the new stuff for the new place, the car repair, the slow but sure paying down of the credit cards, and the wedding expenses which will hover somewhere between two and five grand. Yet regardless, I’ve spent a solid two hours today researching a honeymoon in Fiji.
THEY already HAVE a down payment set aside, money for retirement, all the rest, they are GOLDEN, but like smart and reasonable people they choose NOT to spend some insane amount of money on their honeymoon and instead will take the time and money and invest it in building their new home.
Anyway, later tonight I’ll be out in the streets with my fishnets and stilettos, in an “indecent proposal” type ploy to get enough scratch for ten nights at that bora bora place with the glass bottoms. Seems logical to me.