Rich Tastes

Friday night I had all sorts of dreams about forgetting my appointments at the bridal salons on Saturday, and getting to the stores and trying on dresses, but then accidentally ripping them, and basically making an ass out of myself to the point the sales women threw me out.

Anxiety, much?

So I met D, my maid-of-honor, and fabulous future sister-in-law at Starbucks early on Saturday morning (SO early. I mean, it was at LEAST 9:30....) for some coffee and I'm rocking some rather dark circles under my eyes due to lack of sleep from my psychotic dreams. (Which wasn't ALL bad, really. It let me try out my ginormous sunglasses.) And I proceed to tell D all about my dreams, while ordering some warm milk. (Shut up. It was supposed to be calming.)

D: I thought this part was supposed to be fun?

Me: (sagely) *sigh* you'd think so... but no.

A little chocolate-sprinkle-for-my-milk and some foundation-for-my-eyes later, we set off.

And then, after all sorts of pleasantness and not-throwing-me-out-at-all-ness from the sales lady, I found The Dress. Or, more accurately, D found The Dress. I thought I had found Lots Of Dresses, and was busy showing her, and she was all, "mmmm, that's nice, why don't you try on something outside of the sheath-like-spaghetti-strap-sparkly-dress-box?" And I was like, "I'm sure it's a waste of time, but fine, whatever."

So she brought me this huge, lacey thing with capped sleeves, and I rolled my eyes, put it on... and fell in love. I twirled. I accepted compliments. I imagined seeing The Funausaurus' reaction at the alter... I saw the price. I died. Hello, anxiety, old friend.

D agreed it was stunning, and that I should make it work, somehow.

I called The Funasaurus and told him I had good news.

"What's that?"

"I found the most beautiful dress in the world."

"That's nice. May I go back to my football game?"

"Yes. also, by the way, Ithinkwe'regoingtoserveKraftmacandcheeseatthewedding, andmaybelimitdrinkstoCoorsLiteandgenericcola,o.k.? O.k. Love you. bye."

Seriously. Cheap pop and mac & cheese. Who doesn't like that? And then I can get my dress.

*joy*

The best part? The Funasaurus managed to squeeze in a reply before I dashed off the phone. "I like mac & cheese," he said.

Reason #743,924 I'm going to marry him.