So, Andrea and I had the first party at our new place, a shower for a couple of our friends. Everything went well. Better than I thought it would. I forgot how much I liked parties, and Skull--he forgot how he liked petite quiches.
As my wedding approaches, I keep thinking about how much I need to do. I'm still convinced that the reason why I'm stressed is because I'm paying for it. I don't think I get very stressed about anything but money these days. I do get sad when I get the No's back in the mail. I completely understand why people can't make it. And, frankly, since I'm paying for it, I should be relieved. But not really. I want all my people there. It makes me a little sad.
Skull is anxiously awaiting the wedding; he's already got his tuxedo picked out and has even prepared a speech. I've got to say I've never seen his cheekbones stick out and his teeth chatter so much. He's disappointed we aren't having an outdoor wedding so he could wear his sunglasses, but he told me that as long as the martinis are flowing, he'll be fine...
It's like Whitney Houston is singing from out in the distance: "Welcome to the real world, welcome to the rest of your life..."
