Detour into zilladom.

I'M REALLY EXCITED TO BE GETTING MARRIED!!!!

Wow. It just hit me the other day. *Happy dance.*

I'm almost as excited about planning the wedding. I've gone from being ostrich-head-in-the-sand overwhelmed to hurry-up-and-book-the-date so I can start planning in earnest. My current state of waiting has led to an unhealthy perusal of wedding blogs. However, it's all good: I'm building up a list of things I won't have at my wedding.

I won't:

Pose pressed up against a mirror making a pucker face at the camera. It's my wedding day, not a glamor shot session at the mall. After hours.

Have a bird cake-topper. They are super cute, you are right. All 5678 of you who have displayed them on your blog-featured wedding cakes.

Smear cake on each other after the cutting. I just don't like it and never have. You know what, I also don't think I'm going to have a garter removal and toss. I don't want to offend those of you who did have that; I just don't think I'll be comfortable with it.

Have cupcakes instead of cake. It's sweet, but too trendy. Plus, I like cake. A lot.

Have all-black bridesmaids dresses. Nothing against them; just have seen them frequently.

Taking advantage, for once, of the city.

Saturday was Chris's birthday, and on Friday night I surprised him at dinner with tickets* to the Tony- and Pulitzer-Prize winning play August: Osage County. We haven't been much of theatre-goers, despite living in NYC**, but after that show it just might change. Drama? Comedy? Soap opera? Who knows! **I think one reason we haven't been into the theatre is that most of the last several things we've seen, separately or together, have been terrible: near-amateur productions, drama class recitals, horrifically bad comedy improv, Young Frankenstein. August: Osage County made me realize just why the art of theatre has stuck around at all, and just how far a play is capable of carrying you. If it comes to your city (unfortunately, I think it's going to London next), I recommend it.

On Saturday we went to Jones Beach and I fell asleep on my back with my arm over my face and now my entire front (sans two blindingly white spots where my swimsuit was) is purplish red. It hurts to put on deoderant. It hurts to BREATHE. That'll teach me!

*I used a work discount and my cc points...I'm not totally spendthrift, yet :)

THE MOST EXCITING THING IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD:

TARGET IS OPENING FOUR MANHATTAN DESIGNER-LINE LOCATIONS.

There goes my lunch hour...

Surrounded by flowers.

I needed a happier post at the top of my page. As I write this I was greeted at my office by a beautiful bouquet of creamy roses, orange lilies and daisies, and purple...fluffy flowers (I did not inherit the green thumb that runs through my maternal line) that Chris's mom kindly sent to me, not to mention I left a similarly gorgeous bouquet also from Chris's mom as well as his sister on my living room mantel. Not quite sure what the occasion is, other than just a general "Happy August!"

Happy August back!

That's just sad.

Just now I thought to myself, "Why don't you send yourself an Outlook invite and set up an appointment to sit down in your apartment with yourself, a notepad, your wedding magazines, and some scissors and glue?"

My mouse was moving to click my work computer's calendar before I realized what I was doing.

You might be disturbed by the fact that I have internal discussions with myself.

Me, I'm more sorry that half the reason I DIDN'T set up an Outlook invitation wasn't because my brain doesn't have Microsoft Office uploaded into it but because I don't know when on earth I could schedule it for.

October?

Email from LB-L.

"Another sign I work in a small town. The crop duster is getting too close to our building."

Publishing job applicant advice.

There is a difference between "editorial assistant" and "assistant editor"--usually a minimum of two years as the former and above-and-beyond hard work to achieve the latter. Don't use the two phrases interchangeably when you are applying for the former.