KARA: My invitations arrive via email. On-screen, they’re the exact same shade of neon green that my “Get in Shape, Girl!” workout attire was in 1989.
On another note, I accidentally invite a semi-acquaintance to my wedding after she compliments me at a dinner party. (“I love your dress!” “Thanks so much–you’re totally coming to my wedding!” It seemed like the polite thing to do.)
Meanwhile, Brian’s having recurrent dreams that I’m cheating on him with his college calculus professor, “a very handsome woman,” he recalls. But these incidents are just the tip of the iceberg.
Diane, my ever-enthusiastic bridesmaid, can’t make it to my bachelorette party. Very sad because she was the one planning it. She says she’ll gladly organize it for a different weekend, which initially seems fine until all of the guests tell me they can’t come. I have visions of myself alone at a smoky strip club, surrounded by crumpled dollar bills and men with pinky rings. I tell her not to worry about it.
Then I get a voicemail from my wedding coordinator. “Hi! Your second deposit is more than two months overdue. We’re sure there must be some kind of mix-up!” I call my dad in a frenzy. While he rifles through his bank statements, my mother gets on the line.
“Do you think mini-spatulas would make nice shower favors? Tied with pastel bows? Does Diane know how to tie a nice bow?” My father bellows in the background: “March 4! That check cleared on March 4!”