Every time someone talks about marriage, I gag. Literally. I feel acid accumulate in my tummy, working its way up my esophagus. I am repulsed by the thought. Mom asked me the other night where I wanted to get married- the Philippines or here. What the? Does it look like I have really put much thought into it? Relationships, I can handle, no matter how tedious. Marriage is a whole other story. It's hard enough to deal with my own life, let alone tolerate someone else's. There isn't much room to move, to plan, to execute, when other people are trying to plan your life for you.
LH has a ring on hold.
FH knows where she wants to get married, what her motif will be, and where the reception will be. All she has to do is choose the lucky guy.
Qball is already planning hers. Ack.
My cousin is having his in September. Now, I have to buy a dress. Gah.
I went to the bank this evening and Mom calls calls me as soon as I park the car, "We need to talk." Oh shit. Here we go. It's about buying a house. Blah blah blah. Nod, nod, nod. The appointment will be set tomorrow.
What's the point in answering a question when you'll be emtionally tortured into submission anyway?
I hate being responsible; people hold you up to it for the rest of your life.
I want to go somewhere, very, very, very far away.
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