that kind of girl

Today marked the beginning of wedding season, as far as I'm concerned, because I went to a bridal shower. And, as everyone knows, the world revolves around ME, so therefore . . . wedding season. End of discussion.

As I was getting ready, I kept thinking, "Jennie, what are you doing? It's noon on Sunday and you've . . . you've showered. And . . . you're putting on mascara. You don't wear mascara on Sundays." True story. I barely make it out of bed on some Sundays and I certainly don't make a special point to put on makeup if all I'm going to be doing is roaming from my bedroom to the living room all day long.

And yet, Nancy is one of my best friends and so there are a lot of things I would do for her, like give her a kidney or break her out of a French prison or, you know, shower and slap on some mascara on a Sunday. Also, I'm a bridesmaid so it's sort of expected that I attend these things. Apparently. I've actually never been a bridesmaid before and this is like the best bridesmaid duty ever because A) our dresses are black, B) we get to pick out our own dresses, and C) it's a destination wedding that no one is attending except the happy couple and her parents AND SO bridesmaid duty includes only bridal shower, bachelorette party and reception, which means I don't have to walk down any aisles and potentially fall down on my face in front of God and Nancy's family. Thank you, Nancy.

I find bridal showers exhausting. The people are always nice, but I'm not good at small talk. Or being on my best behavior, for that matter. This was a good bridal shower, though, on account of of all the wine and ALSO we didn't have to play any of those stupid bridal shower games. I'm not kidding, you guys, I'd rather set myself on fire than make a wedding dress out of toilet paper or PLAY BRIDAL SHOWER GIFT BINGO OH MY GOD JUST KILL ME NOW.

Ahem. But we didn't have to do any of that. We drank wine and ate finger sandwiches and did our bridemaidly duties (oh my god, I keep saying duty hahahahahaha) and as we drove away, I said, "I AM SO HUNGRY." You know, because we'd only eaten finger sandwiches all day and I don't know if you know this, but I'm not really a finger sandwich type of girl. I like my sandwiches to be regular sized and chock full of meat (heh) with a side of potato chips and maybe a pickle. And so, after spending a civilized afternoon drinking wine out of fancy glasses and eating tiny food off of fancy plates, we went to grab steak, potatoes, and beer for dinner at a place where you can throw peanut shells on the floor which, let's face it, is much more my style.