v_o_o: Will you spin fire at my wedding?
theempathogen: Yes.
[days later]
v_o_o: How about we pay for your airfare to come if you do
sisterred's hair and nails?
theempathogen: It's been a while, are you sure you trust me?
v_o_o: Yes.
theempathogen: Okay, then yes.
[days later]
theempathogen: So, who's your other attendant, hm, hm?
v_o_o: Here's a hint, look in the mirror.
theempathogen: Motherfucker, WHAT?! You are making me WORK
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I have an idea of how I want the women to dress, but until I find a cheaper alternative, that's on hold.
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Did he tell you I'm a makeup junkie?
I've been a wedding attendant before, but it was in 1995, back in the days before online registration or any of these other newfangled things that make weddings bearable. Plus, I wasn't actually old enough to drive, so couldn't take on any real brass-tacks attendant duties. I am honoured and excited (and floored) to do the rounds this time as an adult. God, I just can't even begin to say...
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I'm thinking you and Robin will be in the same style as Becky and Jackie, just a different shade of green. Or copper if I can find a copper I like in fabric.
So you and Robin in bottle green:
( ... )
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I wish I knew how to do my makeup better. Maybe someday I'll figure it all out. And I'm addicted to books the way some people are addicted to narcotics.
I think I'm the last person in the free world who doesn't text or have the ability to do so. I hope to someday remedy that. I can send texts through aim, which is how the boy and I talk during the day (when his phone isn't throwing a tantrum). Since I sit and stare at a computer all day at work, it does well for me now.
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