“You finally get the information going, and you print the stuff nice and clean, its in an envelope. But then you get their information, and it looks like they had a fucking seizure while they were writing it. Dude, you got a 28 digit phone number going on here buddy. And under name, you drew a picture of a monkey fucking a coconut. Is your name monkey fucking a coconut sir? MFC, is that you? That’s a monkey, that could be a melon, looks like a coconut.”
- Dane Cook

So.

It was my fault.  I stiffed him a tip.

When I used to go to the nail salon, back in the day, I was very consciencious of always having cash on hand for a tip.  But I’m a little out of practice.  I haven’t gotten my nails done in.. oh, years.

I had no cash.  None.

This is the place my mother wants us all to have manis before the bridal luncheon, so I thought I should try it out.  I called, they made my appointment, and promised it would only take 20 minutes.  I checked my calendar.  I had 30 minutes I could spare.  I thought, hey.  Why not?  Spoil myself a little.

(Not that I need spoiling.  And this is when karma probably started to kick my ass.)

Anyway, just got a very simple manicure.  Nothing fancy.

Had no cash to tip.

Mentioned casually to the owner that I would be bringing in a large bridal party on the 14th.

Left to hurry back to work.. started running the MILLIONS of things through my head that I had to get done this week.. and BOOM.  Yep.

I had backed into another car.

The owner’s car.

Fuck.

Karma.  It’s a bitch.

“What is the single most important thing for a company?  Is it the building?  Is it the stock?
Is it the turnover?  NO.  It’s the people.  The people.
My proudest moment here wasn’t when I increase profits by 17%,
or cut expenditure without losing a single member of staff.
No, no, no, no.
It was a young Guatamalan guy, first job in the country,
hardly spoke a word of English,
but he came to me and went, “Mr. Scott, will you be the Godfather to my child?”
Didn’t work out in the end.
We had to let him go.
He sucked.”
- “The Office”

I am tired.  And, I think, maybe slightly hung over.

While Steph’s wine glasses are fabulous, they are larger than normal.  They’re larger than even a normal red wine glass.  They hold a goodly amount of wine.  While this is a large perk, because I don’t have to get up as often, it definitely makes you lose track of wine.  And when I realized I was pouring my third glass last night by the time Bryan got home, I also came to notice how a normal “third glass” was not a full bottle of wine.  But, the “third glass” in this set is a full bottle of wine. (Minus a swallow or two.  I can’t, in good conscious, finish a bottle of wine by myself.)

SO.. about my FABULOUS bachelorette party, which I completely deprived you of yesterday. (I apologize.  I was stuck in meetings all friggin day.) Well, “a local Huntsville actress” and Ra completely outdid themselves.  It was gorgeous, the alcohol was a’plenty, and we had a blast.  The food was delicious, the quizzes (”How Well Do You Know Sarah/Bryan”) were so funny, and we had a great time.  I left feeling very loved, and blessed to have so many people who care about me.  I also have a whole bunch of fantastically naughty stuff now.  Sweeeet.

Bryan and I found our Halloween costumes on Friday night.  I am always on the lookout for interesting date night stuff, and in movie montages, they always go to a costume shop and try on different costumes.  DONE.  So we went over to the new warehouse (on University, in the old Big Lot building) that has wall to wall costumes for Halloween.  Found some okay stuff, but honestly, nothing really amazing.  Until one costume spoke to us.  And then we ran around like crazy people, finding accessories to make it better, and I pulled my own costume out of this idea, and now we’re perfect.

Who’s having a Halloween party?

I so want to be outside today.  But my tummy is mightily upset.. it’s been awhile since I had an entire bottle of pink wine.

“Joel, I’m not a concept.  Too many guys think I’m a concept
or I complete them or I’m going to make them alive,
but I’m just a fucked up girl who is looking for my own piece of mind.
Don’t assign me yours.”
- Clementine, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Man, if you want a flick that will completely mess with your head and make you question anything you’ve ever known, felt, loved, or hated about your significant other.. or ANY significant other.. check out “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”.  We Netflixed it and Bryan watched it while I was being a bachelorette.  I finally sat down to it last night.

The premise is, by any counts, an intriguing one.. what if you could completely erase a person from your memory?  They even had a feasible science behind it, with the technicians mapping the parts of the brain triggered by sensory-memory responses, resulting in a partial labotomy.  And then, the moral implications.. what if it wasn’t 100% effective?  Would you constantly walk around, confused by the resonating echoes of memories you didn’t really remember?

For someone who has a really, truly crappy memory, this movie disturbed me.

There are entire chunks of time that I don’t remember.  I, naturally, attribute this to a crazy descent into the “gateway” drugs of radio.  But there are times.. OFTEN.. where something will seem strangely familiar to me and I can’t place why.  I know that sounds crazy.  Clearly my memory has never been tampered with by Tom Wilkenson.  I never dated Jim Carrey.

Although I do color my hair as often as Kate Winslet.  And she and I could’ve been soul mates in this movie.

But I looked across the couch at Bryan last night and thought, “He has always felt so familiar to me; he has always felt like home.  We have always spoken to eachother as if the other one already had heard it.  We have always known how to physically fit into the other.  How does that happen?”

About two weeks ago, Bryan and I hit a very rough place.  We both had discovered a deep, dark secret about the other.  And through a course of events, they both came out.  Oddly enough, it never shook us.  There may have been moments of doubt or concern or frustration, but it never hurt to the point of needing to leave.  And I realized that no pain between us had ever felt like the end; it always felt like a means to an end, just part of the bigger picture.  Like the ending had already been written; this was just a plot point.  And now, there are no more secrets.  We officially know everything about the other.  And I’ve never had that before.  It’s amazingly solidifying.

Ramblings before the caffeine.  That’s all.

More on the Bachelorette party later..