I’m sorry if I haven’t
I know some of you think you have cool friends, and perhaps they might have thrown you a surprise party at one point or maybe baked you some cookies or something, and I guess that makes them pretty alright people. But they, I’m afraid, would pale in comparison to the friends J and I have who threw us a surprise engagement party to end all engagement parties. At one point they had to tell us that they might be planning a lil’ sumpin’ sumpin’ in order to get us to hold the date, but did we envision a candle-lit space with piles of food, bottomless wine bottles, tons of close friends, a stack of prezzies, and a superhero store? People, we did not. We were the biggest underestimators that ever did get engaged.
Did I mention there was a blizzard? I had no idea J and I are so charming, but people battled epic weather conditions just to say congrats. I mean, also to drink all the wine and eat the Junior’s chocolate mousse cheesecake, peanut butter chocolate Rice Krispie treats, homemade spanikopita, but also for US. I highly recommend you look into getting some friends that do these things for you, although I’m afraid they’re limited commodities, and we may have scooped up some of the last ones.
Feeling like I should up the cute factor for the party, I got a very hot little DKNY number, which is now officially the most chic thing I own. I also thought I would get a haircut to polish off the hot factor. Sigh. This is a long, sad story. Let’s just say that somewhere along the way “long layers, blended long bangs” got translated into “Rachel hair” and I was not a happy camper. And by “not a happy camper” I mean I “paid for the haircut, tipped the hairdresser, and went home to straighten, recurl, and cry a bit.” I’m such a haircut wuss. It’s like an abusive relationship with me; I’m sure they meant well and they’ll never do it again.
Other people assured me it looks okay, which is another reason my friends are awesome: they know when and how to lie to a girl with Rachel hair.
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