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  • Writer's pictureLeah Jones

Good, bad, good, bad…

It is my day off, hooray! I had one set of plans–dinner tonight. Otherwise this summer day is all mine. I slept in and then wandered around Lincoln Square in search of a manicure. Wierd, I know. But my nails are taking a beating working at the shop. Remembering how nice my nails were when I came back from London, I wanted to recapture that level of class.

I ran into Mimi and she told me where to go. So now I am typing with lovely pink, manicured fingernails. My feet, however, are angrily sitting in their sandels, unpedicured and looking a little shabby. The woman told me as I was leaving, “you need pedicure.” I know, I know… maybe next week.

Then I came home and checked the mail. Amid the bills and Scott’s mail was a nice envelope with my name and a return address and name I did not recognize. Who do I know in Naperville? Nobody. Then I opened it and reliazed it was a wedding invitation. The return address is always the parents of the bride, since I haven’t met the bride, I didn’t recognize her parent’s address.

Then I cried. A lot. This is the invitation to My Best Friend’s Wedding. I’ve been waiting for this event for years, knowing he would probably marry before me, and having Julia Robert’s have already theatrically portrayed it a few years ago. Now it is upon me and I haven’t met his fiance.

This is bugging me more than I can explain and when I do explain it, I sound like such a petty bitch. I was very upset that I received the invitation without having met his fiance. I was out of the country when they got engaged, but have now been back two months. Granted, I have not hopped on the METRA and gone to Elgin to meet her, but they haven’t come into the city either.

It sounded so silly, trying to tell the guys at the shop why my eyes were red and why I couldn’t talk without crying. Read the following sentence in a voice that pitches higher and higher until it breaks into a sob. “I got a wedding invitation today and I haven’t even met his fiance.” Annoying isn’t it?

I hate this.

Then I went on errands with Andy, because my other choice was going to Le Sabre and crying. After a super quick race around CostCo, I went to SportMart on a quick errand. I finally stopped into the “Oriental Gift Shop” on Belmont. HOLY COW!

First of all, they have Pocky! And rice cookers and Kimono and sake supplies and art classes and a tea ceremony tatami room. Gravel for zen gardens and loads of other great Japanese things. I picked up some Wasabi Peas and some Pocky. Yum.

Now I’m sitting in front of a pile of credit card applications that need shredded with Spidey’s chin resting on the keyboard. I think it is time for Kukamunga catnip treats for Spidey and time for me to go grow up and understand that the wedding has nothing to do with me or how I feel and make no more drama.

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