You Know What I Mean

One quick story:

Today I decided I would send out my STD's ("Save the Dates" for the amateurs among you). I also resolved to call them STD's [giggle] as much as possible because I think it's funny. And no one else in the wedding blogosphere acknowledges this as frequently as they should. So I brought my STD's to work. [BROUGHT MY STD's TO WORK! HILARIOUS]

I decided that I would make myself mail at least half of the STD's today since they have been sitting on my kitchen counter for at least two weeks now and were (a) starting to smell like burnt food (long story) and (b) becoming a symbol of my non-starter wedding.

So I labored over the computer and figured out how to import addresses from Excel to print clear labels (and NO, I would never ever steal Avery clear labels 5660 from my office supply room for my own STD's [hee hee], how dare you even think so!) and bought a boatload of stamps and licked all of the envelopes which tasted like crap (and got me thinking about the "Seinfeld" episode where George's fiance, Susan, dies from licking all the envelopes and thinking how it seemed a lot funnier now than it did then) and sealed them. Nice and tight.

And then I realized I was an idiot. A big ole dumb idiot. I forgot to include the hotel information (which I printed out on separate pieces of paper) in the envelopes. Goddamn STD's. Pure frickin agony. So I ripped them all open and used the remainder of my envelopes, which YES, means I now have to order more envelopes and wait for them to arrive (because no I did not take the option where I could order extras from the outset in case something like this happened), which will surely ruin any sort of wedding momentum that I may (or may not) have created. And as I pulled out the STD from each envelope and restuffed them into the newly-labeled second set of envelopes, I chanted silently to myself: "idiot" "idiot" "idiot", in time, with each STD I stuffed. (Note: generally recommended to close door to office during mantra chanting.)

My suggestion when it comes to STD's: protect yourself by abstaining. (I think we all saw that coming, didn't we?)

I need to retire for the evening now since tomorrow I have to regain my energy to fight The Rehearsal Dinner Battle which began yesterday and rages on across the east coast, from north (NJ) to south (FL), even whilst I sleep. [Peels a grape, looks back at Tara, consumed by angry flames and grimaces as she marches on away from the plantation...sits down briefly and has a mint julep...falls asleep and decides to fight the fight later...tomorrow is another day.]