Trista and Ryan’s Wedding last night and taped the second hour. I’ll have to watch what I taped at some point today so I find out how it ended! (My prediction: There was a wedding) I have to admit, I’m a little horrified that all the associated wedding costs came out to $4 million. I mean, that’s an awful lot of money to spend on ONE DAY. Of course, our own wedding (cake included!) cost about $200, so I should probably just shut up. I do love that damn Trista to death, even though she’s high-maintenance (pretty much the anti-Robyn) and the baby talk thing drives me up the wall. And I was happy she chose Ryan (oddly, I wasn’t much of a fan of Ryan’s until the last episode of The Bachelorette, and he was getting dressed to go see if he’d been chosen, and I saw him nekkid from the waist up and may I just say HUBBA HUBBA) and I hope they live happily ever after.

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Fred was interviewed on the radio in Michigan this morning (by phone, I guess I should add – he didn’t actually go to Michigan), causing a small flood of sales, which necessitated a trip to the post office (well, that’s a lie. I was going anyway, but I had to process several sales before I went). I got to the post office and parked, then got my packages out of the Jeep. As I was walking toward the door, I saw a small group of women, each of them laden with three or four packages each. You better believe I hauled ASS getting in the door before them, because that was one group I didn’t want to have to wait behind. I could tell just by looking at them that they wouldn’t just want to mail the packages and be done with it. No, they were the sort who would want Delivery Confirmation on every single package, but wouldn’t think to have the slips ready before they got up to the window, and instead would have to slooooooowly fill each and every slip out while people waited impatiently in the rapidly growing line behind them. And after they filled out all their slips and all their packages were processed, they would decide to pay by check, and NATURALLY it would never have occurred to them to begin filling out the check ahead of time, and they would slooooowly fumble for their checkbook, slooooowly make out the check, and then sloooowly fumble for their driver’s license. I made it in the door ahead of them, thank god, and was only annoyed by their bright and happy chatter for a few minutes before I handed my packages over to the postal employee, paid, and was on my way. And speaking of Fred’s radio interview, last night before I fell asleep, all I could think was “Thank GOD it’s him and not me.” I also thanked god that I’d decided I’d never do another interview with anyone, ever, because if I had been scheduled for that interview this morning, I wouldn’t have gotten a single wink of sleep last night. I stress easily over things like that, and stress like that, I neither want nor need. Thank god I’m not famous. I could handle being followed around by the paparazzi, but live interviews on the TV and radio? Fuck THAT.
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You know, I swear to god that I don’t mean to put so many pictures of the Bean up, but he keeps being cute when I happen to have the camera at hand, and so I have to take his picture and post it, whereas the other kitties are all off upstairs hanging out on the bed, and do you really think I’m going to haul my ass up there to take a picture? Hell no.
He’s cute when he’s laying on the desk, getting in my way. He’s cute when he’s snoozing on the couch. He’s cute when he’s trying to figure out the best way to get up on that monitor and pick on Miz Poo. And he’s especially cute when he reads who I’m chatting with and what we’re talking about.