Not that I ever want to be a bride. Even if the unthinkable happens and I someday get married, I do not intend to have a wedding. Going to the government center and finding a judge would be more than enough for me.
Lucky me, though, I get to be a bridesmaid next year in my brother's wedding. I noncommittally said yes when he half-assedly asked Friday night after my nephew's basketball game. Then I hemmed and hawed all day Saturday. My parents and sister kept talking out of both sides of their mouths on the subject. "He's your brother and sometimes you just have to suck it up do it." "You could do something else, I'm sure. But I think he really wants you to be in the wedding." "If you don't want to do it, don't do it. I'm not going to listen to you complain about it." Blah, blah, blah. Shut the fuck up.
So yeah, I'm doing it. And they won't hear me complain. However, you guys will. Apologies in advance. I kind of hope my sister ends up doing a lot of complaining, so I can throw it back in her face. Because I'm a bitch.
My sister also thinks we need to make an effort to do more things with our sister-in-law-to-be, as she won't take that initiative. Because we MUST GET TO KNOW HER BETTER. Am I a bad person because I don't see why that's necessary? I keep thinking my sister is being such a freak about this because a) that's what she does and b) her own divorce has made her wary on my brother's behalf. But maybe not. Maybe I'm just a huge fucking asshole because I think my brother seems happy and his fiancée seems alright and it's his life and how the fuck much more do I need to be involved? Jesus.
Gah. Despite the fun I had celebrating Sarah's birthday and hanging out with The Boy I Currently Like, this weekend kinda blew. And I am crabby as fuck today. Being at work does not help. I really could have used a day off today, just to help get over that shock to the system of coming back after the holidays. But no. I can't remember the last time I had to work/go to school on MLK day. Way to respect a great American, corporate dicks.
You know what else doesn't help? Hormones. I had been thinking -- quite briefly -- that going off The Pill had put my emotions on a more even keel. That didn't seem to be the case yesterday afternoon when I was bawling for no reason. But perhaps even the week Aunt Flo drops in will get better.
I've only had the IUD for four weeks as of tomorrow, and I'm expecting it to take the full three months for everything to settle down. At least I'm no longer getting cramps so strong they almost knock me off my chair. (While editing this entry five minutes after typing this sentence, it seems someone has decided to take a rusty knife to my uterus. Sweet!) And I'm not going to get too excited yet about how decent my skin looks, either. I will, however, cross my fingers on that one.