I got all deep last week, and you guys all came out with many lovely things. Thank you.
Some of you asked about what happened to the original, uncut version. Well, it's gone. It taught me a lot about what my go-to expletives are, and I'm not sure if I like them. Maybe I'll invent some new ones. Draft number one featured a number of invitations to stick it where the sun don't shine, which I removed when I thought again about how it's Autumn and I live in Aberdeen, and how that's not going to be very difficult at all.
It turns out I'm not the cold, heartless ice queen I might like to think I am, and that all this stuff does actually get to me in the end. Trying to plan this thing I keep coming back to this notion that it has to look like a wedding, in order to convince people that it is a real wedding, not a "wedding" or a pretend wedding. And then one of my dear kind friends is good enough to remind me that it doesn't matter what other people think. That catches me off guard, and in the end, it turns out that, dammit, it seems I do care what you all think.
Buzzfeed thinks I'm hopeless and loveable, which must be true on account of the flawless scientific methodology employed by internet quizes. So perhaps there's hope for me yet.
Today I printed out my work calendar from here to Christmas. I got a marker pen and scribbled down all the things we have planned between here and there. I am going to have to be Sociable Me. She can only come out for a few hours at a time and then I end up extra sleepy, but that's fine as long as I'm prepared for it. Six dances in five weekends. Part of me feels like that isn't even really trying and I could probably manage a few more. This is how I burn out and fall over. I shall endeavour to go to the things we have planned, but do so with minimal skiving.
Why am I telling you this? There is a point I am trying to come round to, honest. One reason is that you should totally come to these dances and dance with me. The other reason is so that you know the reason I will be crap at Christmas shopping this year. This is it.
My Totally Selfish Priorities:
- Going dancing
- Dressmaking (because going dancing naked is frowned upon)
- Sleeping so that I actually make it to Christmas
- Hanging out with people
- Christmas shopping
Apparently the world is full of people panic-shopping already. Screw that, I have a plan.
There are better plans out there but this is mine, and I've got one so nerr.
Everyone that gets presents still gets presents, I'm just narrowing down the choice. If you are a habitual present-receiver, you can have your choice from the following list of options.
- Slippers. Proper fluffy Grandad ones.
- Novelty pyjamas. There is little place in this world for serious pyjamas.
- Succulents. Or cactuses. Your choice.
- Theatre vouchers, with free babysitting where relevant. Cat's don't count, they won't get taken off you if you go out and leave them for an evening.
- Gingerbread dinosaurs. You can stage your own version of Jurrassic Park 3 in which the protagonists wear only buttons and end up hiding in a gingerbread house which is being attacked by a sugar-crazed diplodocus.
- A framed picture of the tiny squirrel.
Those are your choices. If you don't tell me which, I will probably default to the squirrel picture and you'll have nobody but yourself to blame.
No comments:
Post a Comment