m.i.a

ok, it's super clear to katie that she, me, is assed out of a critical vag gene.

the bride and adjunct bridely things one.

it's killin' me.

my girlfriends keep asking me details about my sister's wedding.

what are the colors?
I don't know.

what kind of flowers is she having?
I don't know.

what hotel is everyone staying at?
I don't know.

what's her dress look like?
white. poofy.

it's bad enough that when we go to bride stores and functions, I get anxiety attacks, hives on my wrists and can't stop sneezing.

my best friend said, "honey, strap on your vagina, please, and spill."

what kills me is that I'm a feminine chick. I'm not butchly, so what gives?

if I ever got married, I think it would have to be an afterthought.

But here’s the thing, I’m so excited for my sister. She’s the earth mother incarnate.

oy such guilt.

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