I might have to scream

Am I the only one that thinks it's pretty low-class to even *joke* about how someone else's loss puts a crimp in your weekend plans?

I have to do something tomorrow I'm dreading. I'm shopping for bridesmaid dresses. It's not so much the dresses that have me in a foul mood, it's the bride. Don't ask. I'm too ticked off to explain that one.

So one of the other maids can't make it tomorrow. Know why? No, of course you don't. I will tell you why. She can't make it because SOMEONE DIED. She has to go to a funeral - not a family member, not a close friend. It's an aquaintence of a friend's. Regardless, we're talking death.

And the bride? All she can do is crack jokes inferring that this deceased woman had the nerve to die and set a funeral on the same weekend she's going to pick out gowns. What the hell?!

I want to smack her. I do. I really do.

Hard.

For the Love of Spam

Dear Mr (or Ms) "Money for you to Shop",

Listen, I'm quite flattered that you're thinking about me but I think we need to chat. Ok, so here's the thing. I really love that you've got this great stash of money earmarked for me and all that, but how about we make a deal. How about you just send me the actual check or something instead of flooding my "free-and-just-for-junk" email account with a few dozen messages a day. Everything you send tends to end up in my "junk mail" box and the vast majority of the time I don't even know it's there. I have this compulsive habit of emptying that bin without peaking in it first.

I know you're there though. I see the total number of crap, I mean messages, sitting in that virtual spam can. I know it's you. Well ok, I know it's you and your friend "Laptop for you", sandwiched between a few girls that want to show me what they've got and a couple of "medical" devices that could either put a certain little blue pill out of business or bring an end to embarrassing "the water was cold" moments for men everywhere. (Which, by the way, is quite ironic since, you know, I'm not a guy.)

Yes, I admit it, sometimes I do sneak a peak in the junk box. Every now and then something I do need (or want) ends up trapped in the abyss. Every now and then I rescue it. Usually, however, my adventure into the great pit of despair ends in nothing more than some rolling eyes and groans.

Speaking of which, please do pass on my condolences to your buddy on the loss of whoever or whatever it was he/she was going on and on about. I only got to skim her pleading missive. From what I can tell it is such a terrible thing to endure and yet, I can't seem to feel comfortable helping him/her funnel money through my bank account. I'm sure you understand - I mean obviously you know a little extra cash would be useful here, it's why you've got some for me to shop with, right?

I'm curious. Do you even know my name? I mean every time you send me off a love note you address it to the first half of my email address -- you know, the part before the @. And the thing is, it's not even a name. It's a silly misspelling I created as a goof years and years ago. So am I just some miscellaneous 'gur' to you (I ran out of letters or I'd have been a gurl)? Do you want me to shop simply because you've got a thing for red heads? Suddenly I'm not feeling so special any more - at least not special in your eyes. I bet you're sending your genorsity to other gurs too, aren't you?

Sincerely,
the holder of the free-email account you keep sending your love notes to.

Gift receipt required

I was raised in a family that poured a lot of time into gift buying. We mulled. We pondered. We danced around the edges of conversations looking for hints. We wanted to find the 'right' gift that would mean something to its recipient - or at least be appreciated.

Sometimes we don't get it right. We know. It's fine. Here's the gift receipt if you need it. Feel free to exchange it.

Yet I'll admit, when every gift you hand a paricular person ends up disgarded - handed down to a daughter, not even as a 'regift' - it starts to get a little irritating. Why bother wasting the money on the token acknowledgement of a birthday? The 9 year is going to end up with whatever I buy. When I think of the list of items that got a "oh, thanks" and then later "here, you take it" I cringe. Any gift - spa gift certificates, gym certificate (which she asked for, mind you), bath lotions and gels from her daughter (yes, given to her daughter with a "I can't remember who gave me this, but I have no use for it. You have it.), and on and on and on.

My mother was grousing about it a few days ago. The pass-it-on-gift-getter was about to have a birthday and mom was getting cranky just thinking about what to buy that wouldn't be handed over.

"I have one word for you," I told my mom, "MONOGRAM."

And that's exactly what she's going to do. A nice, monogramed blanket - two hearts with both the birthday girl and her future-spouse's name on it.

Yeah, try to give this one away.