Party Planning Makes Me Cranky
2009-03-19, 10:59 a.m.
I hate party planning. I hate party planning. I hate party planning. I do not fucking know how anyone puts on a wedding, I'd kill someone. It's rather sad that I have no dental appointments this week and I'm still cranky, but there you go.
The current state of affairs:
(a) Someone else on the planning committee has offered up her house as a hosting location, and she lives by a park. We will be having a meeting tonight to among other things, determine how well this will work.
(I am really grumpy that for once in my life I have a Thursday night off and I STILL have to have a meeting during prime TV time. But oh well. Can't argue with the person who KNOWS you are free that night scheduling it then.)
(b) Despite the gorgeous weather this week, it is predicted to be cold and pouring rain all Saturday night.
(c) Just got a complaint e-mail today saying, "it's spring, we want it outside, can't you do it earlier than 7:30?"
To which I said, "Uh, didn't some people say they had late finals, which is why we were doing it that late in the first place?" (Also, members of the planning committee may not be available till after 4-5-6ish.) "Also, IT'S GONNA BE RAINING, so taking advantage of the great sunshine is...not gonna be a factor here."
(d) Now someone wants to wait until 5 p.m. ON THE DAY OF to determine where we are going to hold it. Which I think is fucking ridiculous, especially when the girl's house can go indoor or outdoor depending, versus other location that doesn't have the indoor option.
* I have finished Photoshopping all vacation pics from Florida! Yay! Most are online now, I still have the Animal Kingdom ones to upload.
* I still haven't studied for the driving test.
* I caved in and agreed to teach beginning sewing. Bleah. Everyone was nagging me to and I couldn't justify not doing it just because I don't wanna. Fine. I will Be A Leader and fucking do it and hope I don't suck.
In other news, I do not want to go to my cousin's bridal shower on Saturday afternoon.
1. I hate showers. I am not girly enough for such things, I won't be in a situation where I'd have one myself (yup, that Sex and the City episode rears its head again), and I know nothing about kitchen supplies. This is not gonna be a good time.
2. I'm not going to deny the whole "you're six years younger than me and yet you can catch a man and be socially acceptable and I'm a freak" feelings are coming up BIG TIME every time the damn shower is MENTIONED to me. I hate being from traditional families where everyone except the black sheep and weirdos get married young.
3. It's not like we're close in the first place. And she's still getting a gift, just without me sitting there cooing over strange cooking implements.
Technically, I am not at all busy that afternoon (my party drama is probably not beginning until after 5, see above) and could go. I sadly do not have a good excuse such as "I'm out of the state." But Mom told my aunt I was busy then, because I told her about the whole "freak who isn't married in this family" thing. Very nice of her.
Problem is, Mom is/has rethought this whole thing. Aunt Susie, she who doesn't seem to show much emotion beyond vaguely annoyed, is apparently Very Sad because most of the invitees, especially my cousin's friends AND BRIDESMAIDS (call me crazy, but aren't they obligated to go to this crap?) aren't showing up.
And now every effing time I talk to her, Mom is all, "Are you SURE you don't want to go to the shower?" I finally kind of lost it and said, "Do you desperately want me to go to it? What, do you think I'm going to have a good time at it or something?"
The answer was, "yes, for family unity."
Yeah, because that's so fabulous in this family.
I hate having guilt dropped on my head and I am getting nothing but every time Mom calls. Which is a lot this week because it's the 20th year anniversary of my grandmother getting sick and going into the nursing home and the 12th anniversary of Dad finding out he had the disease, or something. I can't believe she remembers these dates in such detail. Sigh.