I went to a wedding where the groom's cake was in the shape of an armadillo. I would like that better than a nice white cake. Why do the ladies always get the boring shit?
Was this an intentional
Steel Magnolias reference, or just a really weird coincidence?
Anyway, two thoughts on the subjects currently being discussed:
1) The more I read about weddings, the more my desire to get married in the simplest way possible (get a Justice, get hitched in the backyard, have a barbecue, spend all that money on a nice honeymoon or... y'know, a house) grows. However, this is at odds with the Gentleman Caller, who apparently since his childhood has harbored the desire for a masquerade wedding, with a theme. This can only end in tears.
2) My sixteenth-birthday party: a trip to the mall one town over with three friends. Major highlights: buying my copy of Roger Ebert's
I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie; watching my sketchy friend proudly announce at Old Navy that she could fit into a size 14 children's black pleather miniskirt; everyone singing along to "Story of a Girl" on the way home and perplexing my mother. Suburbia, everyone!