Stop Pecking at my Destiny

Sure, I'm that person that purchased sleek seductive heels for my wedding, before finding my wedding dress. I'm not one of those cookie cutter freakazoid bridesteins foaming at the mouth, because the matching screws protruding from their necks are too tight.

I like to have control, but not to be mistaken for a control freak. I can roll with the punches, but in this case Muhammed Ali's coming in full force. Sure, I loathe it when the world doesn't turn on my axis. For instance, the wedding coordinator that went against all of my ideas. Seriously, I thought a wedding coordinator's exclusive sole purpose was to serouisly lick the brides' behind, in my case the lack thereof? Hence, try to meet my needs come hail, funnel cloud and alien attacks. I curse you Jennifer Lopez, in your convincing portrayal of the Wedding Planner. How dare you make a mockery of the profession.

My absolute favorite is when a potential caterer advises me that lumpia was not an appropriate appetizer. She proceeded to convince me that greasy foods would contribute to my guests' indigestion. Why was she not dissuading me from alcohol as well? Alcohol contributes to stumbling and possibly puking, if happily consumed inappropriately. I was willing to work with her until she questioned Pierre Robert for my cheese station. It was right then and there. Halt. Snip and Tuck. She was crossed off of my list.

Currently, my actual caterer refuses to return my calls. She's starting to make me feel like a pest. A mosquito. A bloodsucker. All I need is a quote. Simple. Clean. Today, I will call Mary from Contemporary Catering and get a straight answer from her even if I have to do it in a very non-contemporary way.

Within this swarm of insanity, I am in San Francisco trying to keep myself from unraveling at the seams with scotchtape. I'm exposed, for the most part, to absolute crap of news and the media. Between Michael Jackson court appearances, the reality show Wife Swap, Congress interrogating the Baseball Association on steroid use, Bush as President, and the freak funnel cloud in South San Francisco that demolished houses, trees and toto too. Serenity now!

Ding! That's all the the time we have for today. I will try to keep my contact with the outside world to a minimum. Quick Shane, let's toss that fartin' television out the window, board up the windows, pop a bottle of champagne and hold each other in front of the fireplace.

Namaste.