Because Blackhawks tickets are now so tough to get and expensive to boot, thanks to all the wanna-bes and hangers-on who have realized that hockey is the only real sport worth watching, the girls and I decide to head to a Wolves game. Slogan: “What do you mean it’s not the ‘80s anymore? When did THAT happen?” Mullets abound – and then there are the men. Ha. As we’re driving to the game, talk turns to weddings since Jen and Jillian are newly engaged, and I make the cardinal mistake of asking about their plans.
Jen, winding down an hour later: ......so anyway, that’s a quick rundown of the basic costs and where I’ve been looking for dresses and so on.
Me, dozing: ..hnzzzzzzzz.......huh....oh! Umm, yeah! That all sound great. Dresses, yeah, all that stuff. Dresses are good.
Jen: I gotta tell you though, this wedding planning is SUCH a nightmare, it’s incredible. I’d rather deal with ANYTHING other than with having to plan this shit. You have no idea how painful it all us.
Me: Hey, I invoke the Spinster Rule. You don’t get to complain bitterly about how horrible it is having to plan a wedding, not when you have a Spinster in the car.
Jen: No, you don’t understand, it’s a nightmare!
Me: REALLY. You don’t get to bitch about it. Sure, you can complain about how many dress shops you have to go to and stuff like that, but you can’t bemoan the entire process and how you’d SO much rather not have to deal with any of it.
Jen: But it’s TERRIBLE, a total pain in the ass, a pox on society, a mfccshihfihe......
Somehow just then Jen wound up with one of Deanna’s spare compression socks in her mouth – I have no idea how, but all was blessedly silent for a while. At least until we got there.
Jen, unencumbered by sock-in-mouth, continuing unabated: And you wouldn’t believe how expensive this wedding shit is – hell, it’s like you paying for your cancer treatment!
Naturally, at this point I react in the only way imaginable, namely by bursting into loud, incredulous laughter.
Me, guffawing: Oh, right, cancer and weddings, they’re almost exactly alike!
Jen: They’re not alike, but paying for them is, the cost! It’s the exact same thing!
Now, the thing is, I felt vaguely like this was somehow wrong of her to say, but I’m not sure why. After all, with the typical wedding these days probably being $100K or more, then she’s correct, it IS like paying for cancer treatment. Yet it just somehow seems.....wrong, to parallel the two. One is a celebration of life, of new beginnings, while the other is....not. At least it sure doesn’t seem that way. Maybe it's just me.
Anyway, I’m still chuckling over this as we make our way in and find our seats, and as we’re squeezing our way down the aisle, I notice the guy next to us telling his wife something about “check out the hat” and “look at that awesome hat.” I had almost forgotten I was wearing the Fuck Cancer hat, but obviously it’s a big hit with him. And his wife, who looks at it and tells me she loves it too, then points to her shortly cropped head and says “I’ve gone through it twice.” Ah, my people.
We suck down all the necessary food and beverage products, including mai tais, carcinogenic hot dogs, red-dye-saturated cotton candy, et al. This makes ME at least feel like I’m doing something for the cause. (And as an aside, we discovered that cotton candy is the perfect food - a big bag has just 200 calories. Whee! Of course, that's because it's nothing but pure sugar. Like that's a problem.) As I’ve noted here before, since I did everything right the first time around and still got cancer, since my diagnosis I’ve been doing the polar opposite. I have to confess though to my one great failing thus far, and I hesitate to even bring this up lest you all think less of me, but here goes: I....I.......I’ve been unable to take up smoking. There, I’ve said it. Yes, I’ve been a complete, miserable, abject failure at this. Oh sure, I talk big, about working my way up to the stogies, of using the patch and so on, but no, it’s all been a lie. I haven’t even bought a pack of cigarettes for show, for god’s sake. Talk about lack of dedication. I hang my head in shame.