Jen read in the Oprah ‘100 Good Thing to do to Bad People’ that when having a cocktail party you needn’t worry about the invited rule. With a cocktail’s parties loud, and unfinished broad strokes of simplicity, self-assurance, and oomph! — you could potentially go through the entire evening without seeing any blemishes, dark spots, or uninvited/unwanted guests; a wedding was different. It was unavoidable. There would be no Kylin at her wedding if she didn’t invite that loose, lousy, cat-killer.
To be fair, Ted didn’t start out a satanic follower of a religious ‘purge’ believing cult. He wore tight pants and always tucked in his buttoned down Brooks Brothers all cotton classic point forward dress shirt. But things changed the day Jen saw Ted kick the cat. To completely fair. It wasn’t exactly a kick. Which she should’t have to be [fair]. Not really. She shouldn’t dare be sticking up for him for ANY reason. But the cat was needy.
We were Kim Wellington’s for Brunch — on those really cute ‘we’re at your house’ style of brunch places — complete with mix-matched cups, iron boards, magnets on the fridge; I think I saw a rotary phone at the table next to us — it rang! Turned out to be Kim’s dentist. Apparently, she missed an appointment. That’s how much she devotes herself to brunch, and if you saw those two black teeth that separate the inside of mouth from any sort of life, or invitation to kiss — you’d know how devoted she was indeed. Anyway, the needy cat, someone had misplaced it’s fish bowl, or milk bowl, or whatever cats eat these days — someone moved it’s cheese, and it wandered over to Ted’s left cognac colored oxford’s, apparently they were Italian. Kitty started to chew and Tim kicked (which wasn’t exactly a kick. I wasn’t even there: this was all told second hand from Jason Melband who wants to get into Kylin’s pants so he probably has it out for Ted anyway; did I say I was there? Oops. I guess I heard the story so many times, I felt as though I was). Anyway, the case of the kicking cat came to an end when Kylin started dated Ted.
“I don’t want to hear it, Becca.”
“Best friend alert; denied!”
“Your view of the world scares me.”
I enjoy self help books. That is my guilty pleasure. Sue me. I enjoy little quotes, anecdotes, aphorisms, haiku’s, maxim’s, dictums, and proverbs. I also like umbrellas. I have forty one umbrellas currently useable in my house that can 1) color code any outfit 2) fit into a handbag the size of a large pillbox and 3) withstand a tsunami. (Not all of them can withstand a tsunami.) Probable shower? Go with the mauve and eggshell dots. Sun shower? A pumpkin carousel with emerald swirls. Downpour, or level five category hail with expected Eastern winds following hail? Black on Black “Grand Daddy” Armbuckle Conway’s Stay-Dry Stetson. The tagline on that is “When rain can go fuck itself.” So you know — I would never use that language, however, I don’t I agree with avoiding it either.