A good day or bad day? I can't decide.

Today should have been a good day. Today should have
been a GREAT day.

Myself and my 3 best friends from college were all
together and we looked at wedding dresses for my
friend. It was very hard for me today to not look at
my glass as half empty.

For one, in this cute little boutique, with cute
little sales girls, I felt just ugly. My hair was
puffy, and although I had makeup on I just looked blah.
My new scarf was too skinny for my coat, and my coat
needed to be cleaned. My too tight jeans and knit shirt
looked too casual.

Her dresses ranged from $450-700. This is cheap for a
wedding dress. How the fuck am I ever going to afford
a wedding dress? Let alone a fucking wedding! We
browsed through the bridesmaid's dresses. I don't want
to be in another fucking wedding. I am too fucking
old, and too fucking fat! No matter how cute the
dresses she finds, I will still be spending $150 on a
dress that reminds me at every moment that I need to
lose 20 pounds. I don't have the energy to have any
responsibilites. I am hopeful and pretty sure that she
won't make me maid of honor, knowing that it would be
hard for me to handle (that's a nicer reason to
imagine than the idea that she thinks I might fuck it up!) She has
alot of girlfriends, I am hoping she will pick her
oldest friend or her college roommate, that way it
wouldn't look wierd, like "Why didn't she pick you?"

It was also really something hearing her talk about
her parents helping with costs, and her mom looking at
wedding dresses. I can't even imagine what it would be
like to plan a wedding with my mom. She would be very
fun and non-traditional. She might even playfully
berate me for participating in an antiquated
patriarcical institution.

My dad...FUCK my dad. He would do nothing but spout overly sentimental blather in an attempt to make it
appear that I mattered to him for something besides a reason for people to give him sympathy
and pats on the back for being a single father. He
would act ("ACT" being the key word!) really PROUD in
a terrible, inappropriate awkward way, because thats
the only parental thing he fucking knows how to do.
Not like he would get the fucking privledge. The idea
of him walking me down the aisle makes me FUCKING
SICK. He "gave me away" when he started passing out
drunk every night when I was 12. I had no-body! I
am sure I will let the fucker walk me down the aisle anyway,
so he doesn't look bad. I will cover for him just like
I have my whole fucking life! Because it will only be
my wedding. Just like it was only my confirmation, and
only my graduation and only my fucking life!

That's what I will probably do. I will skim over the celebration, just like with graduation when I decided not to have a open-house. will just get
married at a justice of the peace and have a nice
little dinner, to avoid the planning that would force
me to face that my whole fucking life has been a
fucking mistake.

mood: jealous, bitter, ugly, loser