Let's Do Something Stupid... Weeeeeee!!!!!!!

So I met Julie Simon (one of Rob's best friends and another event planner that we're blessed to have) at Party Box to help me pick out invitations for the engagement party that we're holding in her backyard. She found me wandering among the halloween section because I couldn't find the appropriate part of the store. She grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and hauled me away from the Lady Gaga-In-Drag costumes. I now know that the invitation section is in the back of Party Box.

The back of Party Box is a freakin' nightmare. 

Basically, they have thousands of invitations hung up all over the place. You can choose the font of one, the colors of another, the decor of yet a third, and on and on and on in a frenzy that would give any bride-to-be (or gay male interior decorator) orgasmic convulsions.

I sat down on the floor. 

Julie: Get up, jackass, come on, this is gonna be fun!
Me: No, no, that's okay. You pick. I'll be in the parking lot.
Julie: But I don't know what you want!
Me: Just put "You're invited to a party", and when and where. Our friends won't care for what. Steve gets dressed up for the opening of a soda can. 

She picked me up off the floor and shoved me toward the wall that was threatening to give me anorexia. Wait, no. What is that thing they warn you about at the beginning of all video games and Pokemon? Epilepsy.
It was threatening to give me epilepsy with all the ribbons and bows and lace and colors so obscene I'm pretty sure they've been excommunicated by the Pope.

But alright. I can do this. I read the first one:

"You are invited to Jimmy's first lost tooth party! Grandma and Grandma's house, Sunday 1pm. RSVP."

Huh. When I lost my first tooth, I got a dollar. This kid demands reservations to his party. Okay, okay, I don't wanna be that old fart who ruins everyone else's fun with my boring stories of childhood. Whatever, maybe this lost tooth means more than I think it means. On to the next.

"Bill is retiring! Come say goodbye to the old fart! Saturday at the Waterlogged Inn"

I briefly kicked around the idea of having the invitations say "Come see Shannon and her waterlogged old fart of a fiancee!" Then I realized that I'm still scared of his sister, who almost beat me up in high school. Shit.

Then there was a hot-pink piece of paper, bedazzled (and I don't mean enamored, I mean literally, cheap plastic jewels were stapled to it) and gaudy. It said: "Diamonds are a girl's best friend! Help us send off Mary in style!" There was a picture of a grinning bride and a sad-faced man in a tux with his empty pockets turned out. I had resumed my place on the floor when U.U. came over to me. Yeah, it said U.U. on her nametag.

U.U.: There are vending machines in the front of the store if you're hungry, but I'm sorry, you can't sit here.
Julie: (helping me up) Yeah, no, sorry, she's just a little overwhelmed. She just got engaged and we need a little... assistance.
U.U. (doubtfully) Well, I can show you a book of invitations if you-
Me: Yeah, um, the rest of these aren't helping me. I'm not good at this, can you show me something more along the lines of "Engagement Party"?

She pointed to a binder on a shelf and went off to sit behind a computer. Julie and I pored over the book and finally (after an hour) found a color, font, and the wording we wanted. Unhelpful Ugly (yes, that's the name I gave her in my head) gave me a sheet of paper and told me to write down my name, my guy's name, the address, etc etc... and handed it to her. She asked us if we wanted the font to be in all lowercase. I looked at Julie. At this point, my brain was so scrambled that I forgot what the word "lowercase" meant. Julie nodded, and Unhelpful Ugly printed out the proof. Only now, Rob's last name was "Iascar" (pronounced I-ee-as-car?). I would have left it, honestly I would have, and only Tammy (Rob's sister who is wonderful and gorgeous and smart and altruistic and who I am scared of) would have known, but Julie pointed out the error. Unhelpful Ugly groaned and went back behind the computer monitor. Finally, she printed out a very pretty invite, in a nice fall brown, with a simple font, everything spelled right, and some fall leaves for decorations. I placed the order, and sat back, contented. Invitations: CHECK! Julie gave me a hug, told me she was proud of me and asked me where we were going to place the catering order.

...

...

FOOD?! I have to FEED these people? Oh crap. "Oh yeah," says Julie "and we have to find a place for you to rent chairs and tables and, of God, you're gonna need liquor, I know the PERFECT place to get centerpieces, hey do you wanna print out pics of you and Rob as kids? We can hang them around the backyard, and oh it"ll be so much fun!!!"


I sat back down on the floor.