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My Sister-in-Law's Wedding
Oct. 25th, 2005 08:16 amI don't know if I've actually written about this event or not. When Tania (Rob's sister) mentioned it to us last year... well, it went over like the proverbial lead zeppelin.
Tania is marrying James, which in itself is not a bad thing. James is black. Yes, Rob & Tania's parents are racist, (and strangely enough, that's not the most irritating thing about them) and don't know Tania & James are tying the knot. James & Tania are happy together, they've been together for years, and they are both grown-ups. So, let 'em get married.
No, the problem w/the whole marrying thing is the wedding and me trying desperately to NOT have to be involved in it. I have been working inordinately hard this past year to make sure that I would be at work both the Sunday night before Hallowe'en & Hallowe'en itself, which for me is bordering... no, for me, it is blasphemy. And if my deities choose to smite me for working on the holiest day of the year, I most certainly deserve it, especially because I am not working out of necessity, but out of selfishness.
This is the real reason I do not want to go to Tania & James' wedding, the secret-heart reason: when I mentally compare myself to the descriptions I've gotten of Tania's friends, I feel very bad about my loser self. I don't want to be Tania's fat, ugly, loser, dead-end-job sister-in-law. Instead, I'd rather be the selfish-bitch-couldn't-even-make-an-appearance-at-the-reception-sister-in-law & be talked about behind my back instead of having these people talk behind my back about who I really am. For fuck's sake, Tania's best friend does the nails for Madonna & Prince. She's bringing out all her best art-world, high-finance, ultra-talented, super-chic friends from New York & then there's James' family - ultra-southern-Baptist North Carolinians... and there would be me & Rob ushering these people around & taking their coats & making sure they were seated where they were supposed to be & generally being treated like 'esteemed host & hostess' & acting like Fetch & Steppit while all these society & family folk had a good time & then went back home to either laugh at us or feel sorry for us or both. Tania's got Rob doing the chaffeur bit for James' bachelor party on Saturday night, he's got to be Alex's baby-sitter & keep tabs on him all day & night Sunday to ensure the kid makes it to his mom's wedding on Monday... and lucky me - I work Saturday night, Sunday night & Monday night. "So sorry, I won't be able to make it to your noon wedding & your 10-hour-long reception that will end up going from one end of the Strip to the other, on foot, wearing a funny hat & trying to keep all your friends & relatives in a relatively compact herd while giving out orange flowers to people."
So that's it. I have held myself up to the candle of New York socialites & found my huevos lacking.
This is my lame-ass 'sounds like a lame-ass excuse' excuse: I have to work. Period. No, I cannot call in because I am the sole support for Rob & myself, and thanks to being late to work this past Saturday, if I am late or call in again one more time in the next 90 days, I will be suspended (which no one has to know that my last late/absence infraction fell off on Oct. 21 - I was late on the 23rd, which was technically the 24th for me as I am on Shift #1). Not to mention, every time I call in, thanks to my pay rate, I lose $150 dollars. And I don't have the luxury of having the kind of job where I can just stroll in any time I want & work my 10 hours - I have a time schedule. Certain things have to be done at certain times. Period. And due to circumstances beyond my control, I haven't been able to train a relief person in months so I can even have an extra off, & they are fucking around w/letting me train someone else w/both my & Alea's vacations in about 6 weeks. And I have to sleep sometime, so there's not going to be any of that getting off work Monday morning, trying to catch a 2-hr nap, going to the wedding & parading around all day w/these people & then going in to work at 9pm that night. Nothing is going to make me voluntarily stay up some 40 hours - I do it enough due to insomnia to know exactly how much fun it is.
So yes, I am a selfish bitch, because quite a bit of my lame-ass excuse is the truth.
Everyone at work was awe-stricken to know that I would rather work Hallowe'en than go to Tania's wedding, but they have formulated two opinions on that based on information I've given them. They think that either 1) I am secretly actually a racist, selfish bitch or 2) Rob's mom & dad are actually that bad & I am avoiding a potentially nasty domestic scene.
So this morning I stuck a turkey in the oven after helping it give birth to its own neck, which was wedged inside it so tight I couldn't even get a spoon or anything between the neck & the inner wall of the turkey. There was no give there at all. It's sort of a coppery color outside right now, and it's thundering, but there's no rain here.
Yesterday I went to yet another new gyno - this guy's office was waaaaaaay down Lake Mead in N.L.V. I didn't have to wait as long as most other gyno's I've been to - the benefit of a late afternoon appointment, I guess. But I think this guy either used Metrogel as a lube, or, even worse, he gave me another bacterial infection. I'm in that wait-&-see mode. If he managed to kick off another bacterial problem, I may just sue for emotional distress. I hate it when my pussy's broken.
Tania is marrying James, which in itself is not a bad thing. James is black. Yes, Rob & Tania's parents are racist, (and strangely enough, that's not the most irritating thing about them) and don't know Tania & James are tying the knot. James & Tania are happy together, they've been together for years, and they are both grown-ups. So, let 'em get married.
No, the problem w/the whole marrying thing is the wedding and me trying desperately to NOT have to be involved in it. I have been working inordinately hard this past year to make sure that I would be at work both the Sunday night before Hallowe'en & Hallowe'en itself, which for me is bordering... no, for me, it is blasphemy. And if my deities choose to smite me for working on the holiest day of the year, I most certainly deserve it, especially because I am not working out of necessity, but out of selfishness.
This is the real reason I do not want to go to Tania & James' wedding, the secret-heart reason: when I mentally compare myself to the descriptions I've gotten of Tania's friends, I feel very bad about my loser self. I don't want to be Tania's fat, ugly, loser, dead-end-job sister-in-law. Instead, I'd rather be the selfish-bitch-couldn't-even-make-an-appearance-at-the-reception-sister-in-law & be talked about behind my back instead of having these people talk behind my back about who I really am. For fuck's sake, Tania's best friend does the nails for Madonna & Prince. She's bringing out all her best art-world, high-finance, ultra-talented, super-chic friends from New York & then there's James' family - ultra-southern-Baptist North Carolinians... and there would be me & Rob ushering these people around & taking their coats & making sure they were seated where they were supposed to be & generally being treated like 'esteemed host & hostess' & acting like Fetch & Steppit while all these society & family folk had a good time & then went back home to either laugh at us or feel sorry for us or both. Tania's got Rob doing the chaffeur bit for James' bachelor party on Saturday night, he's got to be Alex's baby-sitter & keep tabs on him all day & night Sunday to ensure the kid makes it to his mom's wedding on Monday... and lucky me - I work Saturday night, Sunday night & Monday night. "So sorry, I won't be able to make it to your noon wedding & your 10-hour-long reception that will end up going from one end of the Strip to the other, on foot, wearing a funny hat & trying to keep all your friends & relatives in a relatively compact herd while giving out orange flowers to people."
So that's it. I have held myself up to the candle of New York socialites & found my huevos lacking.
This is my lame-ass 'sounds like a lame-ass excuse' excuse: I have to work. Period. No, I cannot call in because I am the sole support for Rob & myself, and thanks to being late to work this past Saturday, if I am late or call in again one more time in the next 90 days, I will be suspended (which no one has to know that my last late/absence infraction fell off on Oct. 21 - I was late on the 23rd, which was technically the 24th for me as I am on Shift #1). Not to mention, every time I call in, thanks to my pay rate, I lose $150 dollars. And I don't have the luxury of having the kind of job where I can just stroll in any time I want & work my 10 hours - I have a time schedule. Certain things have to be done at certain times. Period. And due to circumstances beyond my control, I haven't been able to train a relief person in months so I can even have an extra off, & they are fucking around w/letting me train someone else w/both my & Alea's vacations in about 6 weeks. And I have to sleep sometime, so there's not going to be any of that getting off work Monday morning, trying to catch a 2-hr nap, going to the wedding & parading around all day w/these people & then going in to work at 9pm that night. Nothing is going to make me voluntarily stay up some 40 hours - I do it enough due to insomnia to know exactly how much fun it is.
So yes, I am a selfish bitch, because quite a bit of my lame-ass excuse is the truth.
Everyone at work was awe-stricken to know that I would rather work Hallowe'en than go to Tania's wedding, but they have formulated two opinions on that based on information I've given them. They think that either 1) I am secretly actually a racist, selfish bitch or 2) Rob's mom & dad are actually that bad & I am avoiding a potentially nasty domestic scene.
So this morning I stuck a turkey in the oven after helping it give birth to its own neck, which was wedged inside it so tight I couldn't even get a spoon or anything between the neck & the inner wall of the turkey. There was no give there at all. It's sort of a coppery color outside right now, and it's thundering, but there's no rain here.
Yesterday I went to yet another new gyno - this guy's office was waaaaaaay down Lake Mead in N.L.V. I didn't have to wait as long as most other gyno's I've been to - the benefit of a late afternoon appointment, I guess. But I think this guy either used Metrogel as a lube, or, even worse, he gave me another bacterial infection. I'm in that wait-&-see mode. If he managed to kick off another bacterial problem, I may just sue for emotional distress. I hate it when my pussy's broken.
