Transplanted Life
Friday, February 04, 2005
 
Well, that "men suck" attitude lasted a couple weeks.
Met up with Kate and Jen tonight to get measured for and help select bridesmaid dresses. The wedding planner looked at us and shook her head, saying that Jen just had to make it challenging. I didn't know what she meant, but the others apparently did. It's the whole "matching dresses" thing. The planner said that anythiing that while such-and-such style of neckline would look good on me, it would make Kate look like a boy, to which Kate said, hey, standing right here.

Allow me to reiterate at this point that Kate is one of the sexiest girls I know, and in a previous life I would be all over her, even if she doesn't believe me. That said, we don't share clothes. I'm pretty hot, too, but it a busty, curvy way; Kate's the svelte, long-legged type. She's also got a much prettier face than I do. But, yeah, a neckline that shows deep cleavage on me would show far gentler terrain on her, the same way that a cut of jeans that makes her look athletic makes my ass look huge. It used to bug her a lot more, especially when she first found out about me, but it hasn't lately, or maybe she's gotten more skilled at hiding such feelings.

Which is good, because it meant an endless hour and a half which could have gotten ugly became mostly good-natured ribbing. I said, hey, just choose something that makes Kate look her best, and I'll deal. So Kate was like, oh, so it takes an effort for me to look good while you looko good in anything. Damn right, I said, just as long as it's not pink. I don't do pink. She says she's seen my underwear drawer, and that was before I moved in with Maureen so don't say some of hers must have just gotten mixed up. Hey, I say, can I help it if the previous owner of this body owned a pink thong. Oh, that's right, I said, I don't do thongs. Trust me, Jen said, these dresses are seldom that tight. We wound up flicking tiny wads of paper at each other. This lady probably thought she was dealing with children.

Anyway, Jen finally decided on pastel green things with U-shaped necklines that didn't do the cleavage thing. They were going to be strapless, but that would apparently highlight the difference in our body types too much, so now they're even going to have three-inch long sleeves. Yeah, I know, I've been a girl long enough that I should know whatever the word for them is. Anyway, we'll all look cute but not quite as cute as Jen, which is as things should be.

Afterward, we went out for drinks and Kate asked if I knew anybody who wanted a ticket to the Boston Sci-Fi Marathon in a couple weeks. No, I've got mine, and that's not really Maureen's thing. Kate and her boyfriend had ordered tickets back in December, but somehow she wound up with custody of them after the breakup. I said, hey, they're not assigned seats or anything, so why not just let Dennis sit somewhere on the other side of the theater while she sits with me? She mentions that in a moment of anger she made threats and leaves it at that.

Well, if I meet anyone who wants one, I'll put them in touch with you. Good, she says, although maybe if I don't find someone in a couple weeks, I'll see if the marathon is Alan's thing. Which leads to "so, who's Alan?" from me, Jen, and two other bridesmaids. Kate just blushes, saying that he's this guy who moved into her building last month, and he's not-bad-looking and smart and they sort of seemed to click in the laundry room the other day. For all Kate knows he's already got a girlfriend.

Jen winds up telling us both we should be putting ourselves out there more, that I can't expect to get this "being the girl in a relationship" thing right without practice, but I don't really feel much of a sense of urgency in that department. As I said, I want to be able to relate to men without sleeping with them, because it's sort of been a while, and Telly doesn't count. Jen's cousin asks why, what with the sleeping with them being the best part, but I say I don't think it's healthy and leave it at that.

-Martina
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net