Feeling Bad

Today I am having trouble being positive. Honestly. I cant even begin to express it either. Well, actually, I could express it if anyone had the time to, or cared to, listen. Buy there isn't anyone and that's actually the issue.

Good Things Come in Small Packages

I love waking Ellie up in the morning. Not because she always seems SO delighted to see me, which I admit is awesome. But because every single morning her bedtime regalia comes as a big surprise. Daddy puts her to bed you see. With me, you get all one color. If I do dress her for bed, which is seldom, I run with a theme. Say she's wearing a pink onesie, then she gets a pink cotton sleeper and then a larger pink fleece sleeper. If she's wearing purple, then she gets a purple cotton sleeper and then a larger purple fleece sleeper. If a yellow onsie, then a variant of green for the sleepers. She's all very coordinated. It's like matching your bra and panties to your dress.

Now when Daddy puts her to bed....

In the morning I'll sneak in to wake her. And she's all smiles and little feet up in the air (which signifies either excitement or a wet bum, six months in and I still don't know which) - and I'll admire her.

"Good MORNing Eleanor," I'll singsong. "Look at you, so pretty in your bunny sleeper" I'll reach in to rub her belly or kiss her cheeks. "Hello hello," I'll coo at her. And then I'll slowly unzip her outer fleece. Inevitably underneath she'll be wearing some random discordant thing. Like a navy blue long sleeve ribbed onsie. Or something with pumpkins. Or zig zags. Then I'll laugh. And Ellie laughs too.

She thinks we are playing. Then she looks at me puzzled because I'm squinting at her. Still chuckling. Then I have to confess to her "I'm sorry honey, I'm not laughing with you. Mommy's laughing at you." Then she laughs again.

I haven't told Daddy though, it would spoil all the fun.

Homemade vs. Storebought

So my sister has "handmade" all her children's costumes since they were born. Except for one year. And when I say handmade, I mean from scratch. She didn't buy a sweatsuit and bedazzle it, or take her clothes and resize them. She literally bought patterns, fabric, fired up her swing machine with her 5th grade Home Economics education and viola. (Which should be said with a flourish and not be read with a quizical "who plays the viola" look.)

So I think she was a little disappointed when I decided to buy Ellie's first costume. Oh she didn't let on but we are both so similar that she won't deny, if pressed, a fleeting moment of remorse for Ellie. Part of her surely thought "Oh how fun to make a baby costume!" I know what she means. there is something symbolically loving about making one yourself.

In some respects I compromised. I bought it used, on ebay, not retail. So almost homemade, right? Still creative.

She's going as an Elephant. Get it. ELLIEphant.

Like Goldilocks, her first ebay costume was too big. The second, my neighbors Old Navy surprise was too chintzy looking, finally the third came via usps. We love it...but there were no feet! It was listed as having "White cotton tusks and footprints" but the woman meant the arms. She insisted that since an Elephant was on all fours, that her use of the term footprints was correct and inclusive of the arm imprint as the arms were in fact the elephants legs. Because I should have looked at it from the animal point of view surely?

Whatever, all I'm saying is that I expected footies damnit.

So I went online to look for slippers or something. Then it hit me.
And my sister should be pretty friggin proud of me.

THE OUTFIT
Notice the lack of feet...














THE IDEA
(1) pair circo gray socks from Target













(1) Set Avon Dry Polish French Manicure Strips















YEAH BABY! WHO'SE GOT YOUR FOOTIES NOW BEYATCH!
Tell ME I don't love my baby...xoxo Ellie-phant!!!

A Rose By Any Other Name

I had these rosebud curtain hooks. I bought them at a yard sale with Doug when we were dating. 12 for $1.25. They were a bargain and subsequently, coincidently, went fabulous with my shabby chic floral curtains. I - HEARTED - these stupid curtain hooks.

Time passes.

Our cleaning woman lets me know that some broke, 3 in fact, while she was cleaning the tub. "They're so fragile" she said. I believe her. They weren't dainty, but old. So online I go. I find them on ebay. They are $7.50 with $4 for shipping. More then I think shower curtain hooks need to be but not bank breaking. I don't bid on them though. I think "Don't be wasteful, likely you can just find them at Target." Environmentally, I'm caring about the packaging it'll take to mail them to me.

We go to Target. They don't have anything similar. I see green leaves. I don't love them. "What about the pink ones?" I muse out loud looking at some gerber daisy hooks. "Get the green leaves" Doug says. Hmm, I really don't love them but I'm happy he's taking an interest in home decor.

I put both back. I'll just go to Walmart.

As I walk away, I think "Oh what am I crazy? They're shower curtain hooks. Who cares, just BUY them here and be done with it. You're going to go all the way to Walmart to try and find the roses? Be done with it."

I stand still. Paralyzed. I REALLY don't like my choices. But one hopes. And because Doug is always chiding me for both being indecisive and creating more work for myself, I grab the green leaves.

"I think you'll like them" he says.
I get them home.
I can't open the damn package. I tear it. I usually don't but THIS time I'm committing to a decision. I bought these, they are fine, they'll do. Be done with it. I actually throw the package away. Upstairs I go, I place them on the corner on the sink. To Be Done Tomorrow.

That night, Doug goes in to brush his teeth.
"I think you were right honey" he calls out.
"Right about what" I ask (pointlessly really because what am I ever wrong about?)
"Right about the hooks...these green one's look horrible"
I walk in. He's hanging the hooks. Wow, he's right. How could we both be so wrong.
"Shit" I say out loud.
"What's the matter"
I explain about the torn box. He sympathizes.
"Maybe they'll take them back anyway" he says.
Downstairs I go and fish the torn packaging out of the trash.

I mull it over. For about a day. Seriously. The hooks are back in the car with the receipt. Then it hits me! Pure genius.

I'll just buy the pink ones, and return the green leaves in the pink's packaging. It's not stealing, I never used them, the price is the same, the packaging the same. It's PERFECT, Besides, if I returned the first bunch in the damaged package, they would have been discarded as damaged and I was only going to throw the new packaging away. My god, this is great! This way, everything gets reused!

Back to Target I go. I buy the pink. I drop another $14 while I'm there on a snow hat and mittens for the darling. I'm now into Target for $34. Out to the car. Hmm, I know I'm going to be returning the green anyway, let me just change the packages now. Jam jam, stuff stuff, manipulate, maneuver. M*therf*ckers changed their packaging. Argh. I'm stymied.

Oh well, you know what, I can still return them in the damaged packaging I conclude. I leave all the hooks, the empty plastic packages, everything on the passenger seat. Home I go. In I go. Upstairs I go. Try the pink.

The pink look like sh*t. Too pink. Too modern. Too stark against the subtle washed shower curtain. Sigh, I sigh.

But being the perfect Pollyanna I think "Well, I have to go back to the store to return the green anyway, so I'll just return both together. No big deal."

I leave the pink in the car, next to the green, next to all the loose packaging and receipts. Drive around for a day. Wednesday, the cleaning woman is coming back. I'll let her know that I'm getting new hooks and not to bother with the shower liner, I'm replacing it with the hooks.

Wednesday she calls. Late. And cancels. Not the first time. There's a crisis with her daughter. Her daughter has been lying. Also not the first time. Drama ensues. I offer to "talk" to the daughter. She eagerly accepts. Daughter is dropped off, we talk, two hours later, daughter gets into my car to be driven home.

"Just move those to the back seat" I say.
"Oh pretty" she says. "New shower curtain hooks?"
"Yes, mine broke"
And no sooner had the words crossed my lips, she drops them to the ground. Bending swiftly, she puts them on the back seat. "They didn't break" she assures me.
"No problem" I say.

Home she is driven. Out of the car she pops, and in her mother comes. Chit chat ensues. Ellie has been a trouper but starts vocalizing her displeasure. I decide to sit in the back for the dramatic denouement to the "talk" ordeal. So does the cleaning lady slash mother.

"Oh," she says "You got new hooks"
"Yes" I said.
She moves them slightly to the side. Then sits on them.
I hear a crack. I pretend it's the packaging.
I ignore it. I'm returning it all anyway, it'll be fine.

Last night I clean out the car. I bring all the miscellany in to reassemble it. I find the receipts. I put it on the coffee table to look at today. Then I go on ebay. I should have just bought the damn hooks there in the first place. They aren't there but another set is. They are $9 and $5 plus for shipping. $15 Buy It Now. I bid, win, and buy.

I am $35 into shower curtain hooks. Plus the original $1.25. And the extra snow hat.

"So you're getting those " Doug says over my shoulder.
"Yep" I say embarrassed.
"Good" and as he walks away I swear I see him shaking his head.

3pm today. Ellie has had massive diarrhea for two days. I've been chained to the house. Finally we are all set to go out. This is it. My one hour to run an errand. She's fed, napped, clean, and I'm going to, you guessed it, TARGET! I gather the boxes. Place the pink hooks in a pleasant pattern. Slide back into the box. It fits. I pick up the green leaves, I pick up the torn box. I fit it symmetrically in. And then I squint.

One of the ceramic leaves is broken in two. Completely. Only 1 out of the 12 irreparably damaged, yet rendering all useless. There's no returning it now. And all I can think of is this: "That lying bitch or her inept mother broke my goddamn hooks"

I actually stopped typing after the sentence above, walked my barefoot arse ouside, and crouched on the ground like Columbo. And there they were, leaf fragments. Next to the car, where my cleaning woman's daughter assured me they didn't break.

So now I've got one set to go back, one set broken, one set on the way, a dirty bathroom and a burning hatred for both the cleaning woman and her daughter.

I also subconsciously realize that it doesn't pay to be an environmentalist.

Letting it Go

So I had this incredibly annoying thing happen Friday and I am having The Hugest Issue With It. I realize this is just a) fall out from me having too much time to think and b) my the obsessive need to right personal injustices but I just Can NOT let it go.

Whew. With a set up like that, you'd think it would be about Ellie, right? Someone doing her wrong and me leaping to the mommy defense? Of course not. God forfend I post about my dulcet darling.

Nope, it's something else entirely and as I type this I realize it may come back to bite me on the ass. The typing of it.

See specifically, it happened whilst I was posting on my old ww board. And I also shared my blog link with some of the posters to show pics of Ellie. So there is always the chance that a ww member may read this. Having said that I'm not being passive aggressive hoping that one does. It just triggered something in me and I certainly can't discuss it there.

So let's start here. Last year I joined WW in July, and found a fabulous thread of new marrieds/new move ins who were in a Less to Lose group. It was kismet. I adored posting and chatting with them, and of course, definitely had my favorites. In fact, there was no one i didn't like or agree with although occasionally, i did find one particular poster somewhat, for lack of a better word, sanctimonious and more often then not confrontational. I'd post one idea and she always seemed to have a rebuttal. Back then, I cared.

I remember once sharing the fact that I had a blog and she wondered aloud whether I discussed the group, semi questioning my ethics, etc. At the time I was not only offended but angry. She wasn't a moderator nor had I ever given any indication that I would behave with disregard towards anyone else's privacy. But I took the hight road regardless and assured her otherwise.

Time passes. The other day I checked in. I left the group while pregnant, finding it all too painful to post about daily life when I was busy on baby death watch. And as I read, I noticed that some people had moved on, and others hadn't changed. Oh sure, I won't ...can't...do a character sketch nor should I but suffice to say that as I was reading along a few times I though "Ah, the naiveté of narcissistic childless people". Okayyyyy. That was a smack.

The long story short is that I posted something and she immediately jumps in with her **conflicting** opinion. I wouldn't care so much but I hardly ever see her do it with anyone else. She's normally obsequious and accommodating.

SMACK again.

I need to cool off.

Basically it all stared when I posted that I thought someone should stay away from those daily boards - like babycenter, etc.

Specifically I wrote:
"I'm begging you, BEGGING you don't sign up for too many of those online follow the baby things. they are AWFUL! All they do is tell you to eat right, do yoga, and not to drink. It's awful awful. They make you feel like a failure if you aren't doing gentle cardio 19 times a day and registering for inane items." And then I added a few more no sequiters. Random but re: being pregnant, weight gain, allowig yourself to be human. Of course I was being tongue in cheek. I’ll grant you, but I believed what I wrote. And I said it in a “take it with a grain of salt” way.

So douche bag, I mean annoying girl, immediately jumps in with this completely sanctimonious rebuttal about how much weight someone should gain, that being pregnant is not license to pig out, etc etc. Then this other annoying narcissist jumps in with her 2 cents about her being in the medical field and that Dr’s say x y and z (Dr's also said thalidomide was a good idea but I didn’t feel the need to bring it up.)

Anyway they were both the archetypal cliché of the typical first new mom circa 2008.
Yet neither was pregnant. Neither had had a child. Frnakly, neither knew what the fuck they were talking about.

But for all their reading that is.

I don’t mean to belabor this, pun intended, but I was just pissed. Hey, don't get me wrong, when I was pregnant I was reading everything ( because I had the time to) and I talked to my two fiends daily, also pregnant. And the simple fact is, those websites??? Well I just saw a really disturbing and sad trend amongst the readers and within my first time mom friends. (Second time moms aren’t as reliant so to speak on outside information!) Sort of a pervasive feeling of feeling bad because no one was doing their pregnancy “perfectly”.

The websites for “moms” (and everyone else frankly) have wonderful advice about walking, eating right, not eating for two etc – and yes, those things are true. But none of the print advice given to moms also allows the mom to just relax – as a simple human being. Pregnancy is treated like something to conquer. Something to master. Something else to be good at. “Managing your stress, how to tell your boss, what to wear, what not to wear, paying attention to your husband, eating for two, breast or bottle” On and on it goes. Or my favorites “Are you sleeping enough? Are you sleeping correctly? Are you still *sleeping* with your spouse?”

Sure, because we are bright, we think "I’ll sift through the advice, and take out what I need." But here’s the thing. The advice - while trite - is so so pervasive and oft repeated, that it becomes fact. It becomes the "norm" when in fact, it's just perpetuated myth.

So am I saying that every single study is bullshit and I and I alone know what's The Truth?

No.

I just feel like we need to remember that we are raised within one culture and all our information comes from similar sources. Even diverging information is still based on a universal shared idea. I personally believe the obsession, yes obsession, with weight gain, exercise during pregnancy, and alcohol consumption are uniquely American obsessions. And just because Drs, blogs, websites, Newsweek all say one thing, b/c they are coming from a shared value base, I'm not sure if you can believe it. It soesn't make something true just because everyone believes it. (See article: Earth not Flat circ. 1492)

My original point in posting to the ww group was to simply say "Listen, you don’t HAVE to follow these rules. It is VERY easy to “fail” to do all the things that you are “told” to do right. As woman, we get inundated with advice on how to be the “perfect” pregnant woman. You are still going to be ok if you don’t. Maybe you're sick, you're tired, you don’t feel like walking, like exercising, you just want to eat something easy. You should allow yourself that."

I ended up quitting the group. I don't have the patience to wait for each of them to have kids of their own and see how pregnancy, in the final analysis, is just not that big a deal.

The Dark Side

I've officially stepped out of the socioeconomic class I was brought up in. Yesterday, as our cleaning woman was doing the bathroom, I found myself wondering if I could prop Ellie up to watch her. I'm a good mother, I rationalized. I definately want to instill in her the ability to do housework. She's just not going to see me doing it.

I'd be ashamed if it wasn't so damn funny.

How Green is My Baby

Every now and then I look at her and just think .... Oh My God How Cute ARE You????... I mean really. Wow.

My Cheating Baby

I don't mind when she smiles at other people. I don't mind when she laughs louder for the neighbors, or stops crying for a stranger. I don't mind that she cuddles with him, but only wants to play with me. I don't even mind that she doesn't notice when I leave the room.

But god, the stink of another woman's perfume on her head.

Ladies, ladies - can we dial down the musk? I'm getting secondhand skin rashes and she, dry scalp from all the bathes.

Gooooo SOX!

The Lord Works in Mysterious Ways

There's a poem that is always associated with the Challenger flight that went down, and specifically with Christa McCauliffe. Maybe I remember it because I went to Framingham State and it was posted in the auditorium. Or maybe for some other obscure reason. But it was written by a pilot and the first and last line are those most often quoted

"Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth...
Put out my hand and touched the face of God."

For whatever reason, every occasional now and then, I think of the last line. "I touched the face of God."

I'm not super religious but I believed in, I don't know, something. I believe in miracles, I believe that you can die of a broken heart, and I believe that sometimes you miss a bus so that the empty seat you didn't fill is taken by someone who worked all day and really needed to sit.

Yesterday, that happened.

Yesterday I went to a fall festival with my handsome almost hubby and cutie patootie baby. The festival was from 12-4, with plenty of time to make my nieces cheer competition at 5. Sure enough, by 4 we were done with kettle corn and bluegrass. Too early to go to the competition, we made a pit stop at a local restaurant scheduled for her christening dinner. Then the gas station, and finally, we pull up to the High School. It's late. So late. She's on at exactly 5.

He drops me off in traffic, it's 4:57. I thread my way through what looks like a sea of elderly people. There are at least a dozen charter buses. "All this for a cheer competition?" I'm thinking. I try top walk slow so as not to startle anyone but I know I need to hurry. I pass the crowd and frantically run to the door. Up stairs I blow by the ticket seller, and dash to the gym floor. I squat down in front of the stands and see her colors on the mats. WHEW! I look for her. Hmm, she's not in place. I see the tall black pretty girl that I know stands to the right of her. Where is she? Did she plead sickness? Was she mad that morning and hiding in the bathroom? I'm barely seeing the routine. I notice a pyramid and someone lets go of an ankle too soon. I think "Penalty for that. I didn't know her team moved up to that. I thought it was illegal" WHERE IS SHE?? I cheer anyway. I hoot and holler. GO W*LT*M! I scan for her. I just can't see her. The team exits the floor. I didn't see her. I look into the stands, and see my sister. She pointed looks left and right and mimics a rocking motion. "Where's the baby" she mouthes. "In the car" I mouth back while holding my hands at 10 and 2 and making the universal steering wheel movement. I hold up my hand, fingers splayed, signaling 5 and yell up "I can only stay 5 minutes" to which she shakes her head no. I squint. "No?" I shake back. "You already missed her" she mouths. "She went already".

I'm sad. She knows it. She looks at me sympathetically. I'm REALLY sad.
I shrug my shoulders, make a boo boo face, and wave. "Bye" I mouth. She waves back.

I leave, slower then I go in. It's empty out in the parking lot. Good for them, I think, they managed to move all those old people. I start to walk down the large hill to the middle school where I know sweet almost husband and baby are parked. I text my nieces mom. "I missed it" I type. She understands, she texts back. But I know she doesn't know how sad I feel. I'm bereft. I feel heavy. I missed it, I think, and it was important.

As I'm walking I see ahead, and older woman teetering on the edge of the sidewalk, she quick shuffles, grabs the pole, and steadies herself against it. I look around. No car, no bus. Maybe she's waiting for a cab. I approach, calling out so she knows I'm nearing.

"I'm certain you are alright" I say "But is there anything I can do to get you closer where you need to be." I ask
"I'm fine" she snaps.

Oh my god. It's my grandmothers voice. Oh my god. I freeze.

"I'm just getting off that hill. I don't need help." she says again.
I know that voice.
"Oh I know you don't need help," I say. "But I don't feel right walking by you. Can we at least walk together?"
"No," she says. "I'm going all the away down that hill" and she points to the large hill "My car is at the bottom, there were no spaces up here. I walked it once already. I can do it."

She even acts like her. I know it's not her, but she sounds like her, she's stubborn like her. She still drives...like grandma did.

"I'm going down the hill too," I say. "Really, I don't want to be a pest, but can't we walk together?"
She glares at me.
"I'm too slow," she finally admits. "You're in a hurry."
"I most certainly am not," I shot back. "I have a baby, she's in the car and I never get away from her. I love her but I could use a nice walk. A slow walk, You'd be doing me a favor." She refuses again.
Finally I say "Ok. I'll leave you alone. But just tell me. Is it me? Do you not like me? Was it something I said?"
She starts to admonish me "Don't like you, I don't even KNOW you.." and then she looks at me. She sees me smiling and realizes I'm not going to leave. I'll follow her if I have to.
"Ok, fine" she says begrudgingly. "But I CAN do it. It's just far."
"Thank you" I say. It's far for me too. And it's a beautiful day, and I'd enjoy your company."

So off we walked down the hill. I knew better then to take her arm, and I paced to her pace, but casually. As if it was my pace too. We talked. I wanted to get her car for her but it was clear that she would never have allowed it

And as we walked we talked. She had worked for the Herald for years. This was no "little old lady". She was smart...like my grandmother. I asked her where she was from. The voice, the voice. It was driving me crazy. Local, she said. Local I knew. But why did she talk the same exact way? "I grew up in Brighton," I said. I'm local too. She looked at me closely. "I live in Brighton". So did my grandmother. "I was born at Saint E's" I said. "I worked there for 16 years" she said. She said "My parish was Saint Gabes". St Gabes was behind my grandmothers house. "I was baptisied there" I said. We both said "I was sad when they closed it." I recognized her in spirit, although not in body. WE walked on and up ahead, I saw Doug walking towards us holding the baby. He understood that I needed him to show her to the woman.

We finally stop. That's my car, she pointed. And of course it was. It was a grandmothers car. A smart bright sassy grandmother who's life was coming to an end but who had all the fire and brilliance of a much younger woman. "I'm 79" she said. And she wasn't the Fidelity scuba diving 79. She was a housedress coral lipstick 79. The kind of 79 that knew about busing, about Whitey Bulger, about Charlestown in the 70s. She was my grandmother. We held hands to say goodbye. She looked at Doug and said "Your wife is a very special girl" and he thanked her. She touched Ellie's foot, and told us we were blessed. Then she turned and walked towards her car. I saw her stop and rest her bag on the hood. She was pretending to look for her keys but I knew the curb had scared her. I turned my back to give her her privacy. I pretended to fidget with Ellie.

"Goodbye" I casually called over my shoulder.
"Goodbye" she said
I turned back "Thank you for letting me walk with you"
She nodded and moved towards the door.

Doug and I walked away.
"I miss my grandmother" I said. I started to cry.
"I know, he said. I miss mine too."

And as we buckled ourselves into the car I realized that I was meant to miss the cheer competition. That I was meant to walk with Mary down that hill, and I was meant that day to be a gift to Mary and she a gift to me. That it was God's plan for each of us, and had I been but 2 minutes earlier, we would have passed each other by. That I wasn't there for my neice, I was there for my grandmother.

So God brought to me my grandmother, and to Mary a friend for a moment in time.

and I felt as if I had..."Put out my hand and touched the face of God."

Do you work? Yes I do. I work "In the Home"

This is my actual to do list for tomorrow:

BASEMENT
Bring up laundry, fold
remake guest bed in babies room with quilt
bring up gifts for Glen & Cindy
bag Salvation Army items from hamper
bring up 2 bttles of water to make formula while out

PORCH
Recyling
Reloop hose

DINING ROOM
Vaccuum
Find Pension paperwork
repack diaper bag
Pack all gift items and cards into bag for PO
find Lord & Taylor Receipt for return

LIVING ROOM
Vaccuum
Get dress for return out of closet, place at back door

OFFICE
print out JC Penney return slips
bring drycleaning down
empty trash

BATHROOM
Bring down water glasses

ELLIES ROOM
Strip sheet, remake crib
Fold and put away laundry
make guest bed with quilt from BASEMENT

OUR ROOM
Make Bed
put away laundry

OUT OF HOUSE
o Library
Photocopy License.
Return books
o Post Office
Mail paperwork including license proof to Fidelity for Pension Rollover to IRA
Mail Abbie card & mom to be gift
mail Cindy baby gift
o Cobbler
Drop off Dougs shoes

RETURN
o JC Penney curtain rods ordered online, take out of Dougs car
o Dress to Lord & Taylor


General To Do
o Call Priest re appt and baptism info
o Call and CXL Sheena appt
o Find parts to bring watches in for repair
Visit Longs for godparent gift ideas
o write reminder note to self to have engagement ring engraved with proposal date
o Confirm Restaurant for Christianing - send out meal preferences email
o Find Doiugs family a Hotel "
o Discuss gift bags for hotel "guests"
o Fix Wood window frame in Basement
o Fix Nail Polish
o Vist TJ Maxx for dress


TO BUY
Grocery store for: Mozzarella, basil, chicken, scallions
CVS for Formula
Vanilla extract

To buy this week
Tights and shoes for christianing, plan dress for dinner eve prior
visit TJ Maxx for cheaper mommy dress
Halloween Costume for Ellie
Gift for Glen & Paula
gift bag stuff
godparents gifts

This is Doug's to do list:
change lightbulbs
fix headlight

Social Etiquette - Even family needs to RSVP

From: D
Sent: Friday, September 21
via snail mail

You are cordially invited to attend the Christening of our daughter E****** R**** on Sunday, Date Year at Time and Location.
Insert Card Reads
In lieu of a post christening celebration, please join us the evening prior for a dinner celebration. Date Time RSVP by September 29.
***********************************************************

From: D
Sent: Monday, October 01, 2007 5:27 PM
To: bcc
Subject: Step right up and RSVP please!

Hi, the RSVP date for the evening dinner prior to Ellie's Christening has passed. As you know, the reason for the big deal dinner is that Doug and I aren't going to be having any sort of wedding so this is what would be the "dinner" with his family. Simply meaning, if you're interested in meeting his family while they are in town, now's the time.

I 100% absolutely will not be upset if you can't make it - or if only 1/2 of the you that is part of a couple can make it etc. I'll only be upset if you tell me you're coming, then cancel after. And that's because it'll cost me valuable moolah honoring the food and beverage commitment. (I can't take it in leftovers - rats...)

Right now it's at the old H** in L*** off of 114. It's called M***. Please let me know by tonight if possible so I can sign the contract and finalize the menu.
***********************************************************

From: D
Sent: Wednesday, October 03, 2007 11:34 PM
To: bcc
Subject: Honestly, it's Thursday already.

With all due respect, I'm not hosting a backyard bbq. I actually need an answer or a reply at a minimum. Sorry to be a bitch but I don't have all day everyday to plan things.Oh wait, that's right, I do. But still.

I REALLY need to know who's coming b/c if I don't have the right #'s I need to find a new restaurant. So it's not "drop by the big round table at Chuckie Cheese" here. It's an actual fancy sit down dinner with a preselected menu that requires an RSVP.

So cheer it out
RSVP
RSVP
GET BACK
TO ME

Gooooo telephone service!