Spending the last 40 minutes catching up on one of my favorite friends' blogs (which also happens to be one of my favorite friend's blogs, because how many people besides she and I are really going to get that grammatical nuance?) has made me aware of just how long it's been since I was last hanging out in the blogosphere, and I feel that this is something that needs to be remedied, stat, before the rest of my New Year's Revolutions crumble as well.
Obviously, weddings have taken over, and not just mine, because I'm in two others now as well: there's the Mormon wedding (and thank God he proposed to her after she converted for him) taking place less than a month after mine because they "physically can't wait" any longer than that to have sex, in which I just got promoted to MOH because the original MOH will be at her (Mormon) family reunion (in Utah) that weekend; and there's my best-friend-from-first-grade's wedding, she of the "Is $7000 too much to spend on a wedding gown?" attitude, who seems to think that because I am also getting married, that I'm some sort of wedding planning guru, or at least someone who will indulge all her drama over finding the perfect shade of olive taffeta (if only she knew how wrong that assumption is).
In other news, Lui and I finally got our new bed (read: mattress on the floor), so we are no longer sharing the twin of my youthful promiscuity so much as wallowing in Tempurpedic bliss every night.
My nose is currently purple, thanks to a laser treatment meant to get rid of the broken capillaries thereon - long story short, it had to get worse before it'll get better, so I'm looking forward to no longer appearing as though I got hit in the face and having a nice, smooth, normal-colored nose instead. Should take a week or two. This is my last attempt at becoming satisfied with the thing before seriously looking into rhinoplasty, or else learning to get over myself.
I have mixed feelings about Idol this year, but my subconscious has already chosen which contestant will be sweeping me off my feet at night, so if/when I am compelled to vote, it'll have to be that way. And the Mormon and I are going to see Taylor Hicks perform at a casino in May; it wasn't until after I'd bought the tickets that I realized the show's on a Sunday night, to which my Mormon friend replied deliciously, "Screw it! I'm not missing Taylor Hicks for anything!!!" Thus we can conclude that Taylor trumps God. I love it.
I also jumped on The Secret bandwagon, but haven't been living it so much as planning to live it, which is probably hugely counterproductive. Still, after Oprah and guests brought it to my attention that forgiving someone is being able to say, "Thank you for giving me that experience," I've stopped envisioning Piano Man as my unfortunate opponent in Combat, and actually wish our paths would cross sometime soon (I'm surprised they haven't already; we've been peacefully coexisting in this city for too long - it's unnatural) so I could take him for coffee and talk the whole thing out like grown-ups. You know, just as soon as my nose isn't purple.
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