2001-08-06 - 1:29 p.m.

I have the dubious pleasure of throwing a bridal shower next weekend. This is what happens when a friend/co-worker is maid of honor for a wedding that just, without warning, leapt from September 2002 to September 2001 - September 1, no less.

With the bride being in town for a window of only a few days, there are not many prime dates for said shower, particularly when friend/co-worker will be moving in with bride's ex-boyfriend on the target shower date.

Yeah.

FYI, they're just roommates, and not shacking up, but some things just aren't done, y'know? So I volunteered to co-host the thing at Barbara's. Because, as Jess pointed out, if I become a really famous and high-profile wedding planner in the near future, I might somehow be involved in Paul McCartney's wedding.

Here I will forgo the almost obligatory statement about monkeys flying out of my butt, as I believe a girl shoudl be allowed to have a dream.

The planning comes right on the heels of the large party I threw in honor of the Queen Mum's 101st birthday - yes, she lived long enough for me to throw two parties in her honor! It was a success, if you don't count the huge amount of alcohol left over (or maybe that's a success in it's own right) and the fact that Gus and I were sick as dogs the next day. But we managed to make a day of it, at least.

Which figures. Gus and I have finally reached total, living-together happiness, and he has to leave for a week starting Friday night, which puts me back on my schedule of doing the rounds of Barbara's house with a knife each night before I go to bed. Why must large houses be so creaky?

Off to "clean" poor Nancy's office (which, by Da Boss-Lady's definition, entails throwing away a third of what she owns.) Oh, how I love my job...

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: