22 June 2002 - 8:54 p.m.

Okay, I know the truth, once and for all.

Mousy girls hate me.

Jess and I were chillin' over our poorly-mixed drinks at the bridal shower luncheon I attended today, when the uber-bubbly host informed everyone that each table should start to think about who would make the "most beautiful toilet paper bride."

Now, you all know that I hate the toilet paper bride game. I hate wasting paper products. I hate bad fashion. I hate party games that do not include the words "Drink if..." in the instructions.

I was not stressed out. I was surrounded by women who were so pro-marriage I wish I had printed up business cards for the bridal consulting firm I have in my mind. They were cursing over losing the purse game, and one kept mentioning that she had gotten engaged last week (bite me). The only person whose name I couldn't remember was sort of mousy, and had just met some guy doing, like, mission work on some trip. He apparently had eaten with her several nights and a row and matched all the qualities on her "list," and hoped that things were going somewhere. He had given her a Rosary. Oh baby, oh baby.

So imagine my surprise when Ms. Mouse said, "I think Jennifer would be a beautiful bride," in a tone that was either completely innocent or completely evil.

In the ladies room, Jess remonded me that Karma was instant. Maybe the mousy girl wasn't picking on me after all - maybe she was just the carrier of cruel fate's punsihment after I denounced the TP bride game so adamantly. Sigh.

It turns out it was for the best, since I never could have mustered up the creativity/competitive spirit of my teammates, who even managed a xorset top and a silver necklace made out of Hershey's Kisses wrappers. You would have thought we were competeing for the Olympic Gold in TP-ing the fake bride.

Sadly, our team did not win, or maybe not so sadly, since I got to tear Great Scott off me that much sooner. But there are pictures, which I never, ever wish to see.

Also, the world should know that when I get engaged in 13 years, I want Jess to be my Maid of Honor, because only she has the know-how to keep it real. Who else could come up with the idea of a Golden Girls-themed bachelorette party, complete with cheesecake, the Golden Girls drinking game played to a marathon of wedding-related episodes (Note to Jess: I think the two-part Moonlight Madness Episode in which Rose wins a Honeymoon trip to Paris and Dorothy kisses Miles counts), plus an extra-special, edited-for-the party video montage of the Girls sitting around talking about sex. Who wouldn't want that party, even if an 83-year old woman had rolled naked through the confetti?

That's the thing about showers. They're sort of like the Frontier used to be. They're not quite cool yet, but they can still be conquered.

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: