2009.

I only log into Facebook when my grandma emails me to say "Your aunt has uploaded pictures of your cousin's birthday party!" or "Your [/another] cousin is having a girl, she just put sonogram pictures on her Facebook page!" It's really cute. At 76, she's much more up to the minute than I am.

Survival strategy.

Isn't it interesting the kind of brainwashing employers like to do to you, like, "Oh, we're taking a chance on you and going to give you this big important wonderful project to work on, aren't you grateful?" and you ignorantly squeal, "Thank you!" before realizing a few weeks later that you're developing an ulcer, you have nightmares about work every single night, and the relentless obnoxiousness of the people involved are devouring all that's good elsewhere in the world.

Also, subway fares are going up a LOT with corresponding CUTS in service. It took me an hour to get to work this morning and the announcements on the loudspeaker were too garbled to make sense of. For some reason I could handle the delay but the gibberish loudspeaker was making me enraged. It was 70 degrees at the writer's conference I was at this weekend (where people were so sweet and friendly and live in houses with yards and green grass and flowering pear trees), and 45 and raining when I got back to New York. A block away from my apartment someone's carelessly-abandoned cigarette lit a curb full of trash on fire, in turn incinerating an innnocent parked car. Thankfully not ours; I'm grateful, I am! "A case of the Mondays," I guess, but it feels more like a case of "What am I doing with my life?" How can you achieve tranquility when the smallest thing, from groceries (which we abandoned yesterday because the line stretched snakelike around the store) to commuting to "approve this deal, you nincompoop, it's an AMAZING OPPORTUNITY FOR YOUR BOOKS, YOU STUBBORN, IGNORANT, ASS-HAT!" are seemingly out to get you?

Here are things I've enjoyed recently, to end on an upbeat note. I have been trying to be positive lately, truly.

The bright flowers at all the bodega flower stalls
Going out to the corner store to get Ben & Jerry's with Chris
The five minutes of 70 degrees I got to experience on Saturday
All the nice people in other parts of the country
I'm still getting paid
April is almost here
Someday I won't live here anymore
Okay, okay.

Tonight How I Met Your Mother is on. That's something.

Sure to raise some eyebrows.

When you Google "non-matching bridesmaid dresses" you come up with a whole bunch of links to articles that say things like, "Non-matching is a great option! It allows the bridesmaids to express their personality and buy a dress they'll wear again! Just make sure you PICK THE SAME COLOR/COLOR FAMILY/FABRIC/LENGTH." Um. To me this still counts as matching. Not exactly the bohemian rhapsody that's persisted in my mind since I was 13 and saw this photo in People magazine, a photo which I've finally been able to get my hands on thanks to the wonders of the People website, which has back issues uploaded as free pdfs.

Can't you just hear the tone in Martha's voice?

So it goes.

I'm currently embroiled in a rotten fight with two friends I've had ever since I moved to the city. It's haunting me; but the thing is every time I retrace my steps, every time I bore yet another friend or relative or coworker with how it all came to happen, I literally, sincerely, genuinely can't see that I have anything to apologize to them for. I felt mistreated, and I said so, and now they're upset. They have their side of the story, of course, but I simply do not agree with it.

One of them said yesterday words to the effect of "What I'm hearing is that you don't want to be friends anymore, and that feels like a slap in the face." I think that's one of the things (the only thing, actually) that I keep feeling guilty about--maybe because it's true. I never came out and said "I don't want to be friends with you anymore." But the truth is, I don't.

And haven't. For a while.

They're both moving out of the city this summer and I thought I could just keep it going, keep up the friendly facade and then maintain a gradually less frequent email relationship for the next few years until we all fade away. Their behavior the other week that caused the fight in question, changed that. I'm a nice person, but I'm not ENTIRELY a doormat. But the thing is, right now it's hard for me to respond to their own hurt feelings with any kind of love. All I want to do is say "Peace out" and be done. Some people have counseled me to do exactly that. Well, I can't leave that kind of bad karma in my wake--I can't have that on my conscience, that cruelty to reproach myself over in years to come (because I WILL). But, frankly, I don't want the bad karma of their presence in my life, either.

I rack my brains again and again--"Did I do something I should be apologizing for?" And I rack my brains: "When was the last time hanging out with them was a positive experience? Where I came home and Chris asked, 'Did you have fun?' and I said anything other than 'Meh'? Made me feel good about myself? Engaged me intellectually, emotionally, even, hell, shopping-wise?" I mean, they make fun of my clothes, so that's out. They made fun of my ENGAGEMENT PHOTOS. Why am I even wasting my anguish? They have no idea that I bought my wedding dress--because they never ASK. When we get together, we talk about one's dating travails, and the other's work travails. I'm there in the role of supportive listener. They said, "We feel like this isn't the Laura we know." What Laura DO you know? I'm curious.

It's my turn to respond. I have to give it some time so that my words can be gentle yet firm, as opposed to furious and firm, which is what they would be right now. But dude, the only thing worse than a fight where you do care about your opponent is a fight where you don't.

Pangs. Serious ones.

I haven't questioned my lovely wedding dress for a minute, not even when confronted by luscious silk flowered belts by Vera Wang or insane clouds of tulle by Monique Lhuillier that appear in the pages of the bridal magazines in which I can't help sneaking a furtive peek when I'm passing by a B&N or a drugstore (I haven't, I am proud to say, bought one in months). But I thought J. Crew was safe, since I've never really been tempted by the minimalism of their wedding dresses, until last night in their new catalog:



You can't see the detail here the way you can in the catalog so click here--it's a creamy floral print, embellished all over with pearl beads, and it's amazing. I spent a good sixty seconds staring. And wavering, hard. But then I thought to myself, "Well, every woman at the wedding will know where your dress came from and how much you paid for it," so in the end I returned to happy daydreams of my own gown.

But while I'm on the subject of lustworthy textured wedding gowns that are not mine, here, have some eye candy:


I almost got this dress (but in ivory) on my first, mildly disheartening wedding dress expedition. My mom and the saleslady were pushing for it, and it was beautiful and the shape was wonderful. And I'm in love with Claire Pettibone's dresses, and the store was offering a discount. BUT:

I'm having a Virginia country wedding. If I had gotten this dress I would have wanted to redesign everything into a '20s art deco dripping diamonds champagne fountain kind of affair, which, while it sounds sensational and someone should throw one and invite me, isn't exactly me and Chris. I passed it up (and then cried on the sidewalk out of indecision), but I still think it's exquisite.



I love the pseudo-vintage feel of this Lela Rose gown.




Everything about this wedding made me sigh! For once, bridesmaid dresses that I LOVE. The mustard with the grayish lavender is so incredible. And the flowers! WOW. More pangs.

But I love our plans so far. And I love daydreaming about the wedding. For a while I felt like, "Don't be such a bridezilla, Laura! Stop thinking about it twenty times a day!" but you only get married once and it takes a year to plan! You've got to lounge in daydreams now and then because the actual event is over in a few short hours.

I can feel the spring weather creeping in. I wore pink, yellow, green, and orange to work today, and look like a walking candy shop, but can feel my mood lifting with the barometer. Happy Friday!

(Pictures to come from the surprise event of this past weekend!)