Went to a bridal shower last night. For a co-worker. Involving all the people I work with daily.
Plenty of food, and lots of white wine, which always gives me a headache. I stuck with the champagne punch, although champagne makes me dizzy in an uncomfortable way, but my goodness the strawberries in the punch were delicious. Saturated in champagne-brandy.
I also ate too many carrots. It's okay, but today I feel kind of... orange.
My coworkers are all fairly cool, not people I'd normally meet, but cool enough for coworkers. Some have tattoos of cartoon characters. Explain Tigger on your ass when you're 80, that's all I gotta say.
We like to joke. We joked about male strippers, even though there wasn't one. I've never seen a male stripper. It's okay.
I don't need to see one.
Tammy opened all her gifts, which included a three-day round-trip honeymoon to New Orleans. One other lady got her a spoon and a hand-made dish rag. I didn't get her anything tangible but I did pitch in for the trip to New Orleans. I've never been to New Orleans. It's okay. There are other places I'd prefer to go.
My S, who was running errands in the area, showed up to collect me in his butterfly net and I jokingly quipped, "The male stripper's here!" Amidst hoots and hollars and oh yeahs! he flushed a lovely shade of crimson, I grabbed my purse, we were off in a blaze of 10 year old hatchback chrome.
I later apologized to him for the embarrassing joke about being a stripper and he said, "Naw, don't mention it. It's okay. I'm not."