The Party - She was a Fancy.

Fancy. Pronounced Fahn-Say like you were from Greenich, CT.

And I CAVED. I said, no I SWORE, I was wearing the kick-ass pants and I changed into a fancy salsa skirt and fancy shoes and ditched the Birkenstocks. Ok. I wasn't really wearing those but definitely something more comfortable than the toe-torture racks I wore. Oh, and did I mention it rained? That little piece of heaven will come in handy later on....

So, I picked up my girlfriend - not THAT kind, though I would totally pitch for the other team if she looked like Marisa Miller




- but alas she doesn't.

ANYWAY, we went downtown to try to find said Swanky Gallery. The directions said to park in a parking garage and it was right around the corner. Ah...NO. Did I mention I bought towels and rugs and soaps and a huge basket from Peir 1 to put it all in? Yes. And it weighed 5,000 pounds - or at least felt like it after walking 6 blocks in the RAIN, in hi-heel KILLER SHOES, in the RAIN. I wanted my arms to look good but DAMN.

The Gallery was really cool - it had an entire wall for Salvador Dali prints and even a real Picasso pen and ink. The catered affair was very SHE-SHE. Even the forks were arranged like leaves. Have ya ever? Me neither. While scarfing down on crab cakes and mini sandwiches (pronounced sangwitches around here) - I was assaulted by the brides best friend, sister and mother about How Upset Bride Is You Are Not Spending $1,000 To Attend Her Wedding In Another Country.

What? Are they serious? Like a heart attack.

WTF? How does she think this is an option? So needless to say, I leave there feeling pretty bad because I would hate to let a good friend down. And she was not only there for me every step in my wedding - she was IN my wedding. But my wedding WAS HERE!!

I proceed to vent to the my friend on the car ride home about this matter. She asks when the wedding is. May 13th I say to her as if she has three heads. Where is it? The Bahamas I go - Why you going? Again, I am DRIPPING with sarcasm. She says no she wasn't invited. WHAT????

She was invited to the shower - but not the wedding.

Call me old school - but this is just NOT done. Ever. Its shitty. And I was too dense to GET that when she was asking questions - BECAUSE of COURSE she didn't know the details - she wasn't invited. FUCK.

If I could have driven while hiding under the seat I would have.

So the rest of the ride home was spent wondering why I had bothered to don the fancy shoes - because I felt like a Grade A- ASSHOLE between the family/friend bashing and making my friend feel like crap.

I come home - tell the whole sordid story to DH and he's quiet - not saying much. OK. Thanks for the back-up. Feeling lower - I went to bed hoping not to have nightmares about Dali paintings and crab cakes chasing after me yelling "Why aren't you going? Why? Why?"

The next day brought a whole slew of chores/fun activities to do with the kids since DH was going into NY city to the Auto Show and I had all but put this out of my head, when while making lasagna the phone rings.

Its my friend.

I quickly apologize for saying all the stuff I did the night before. I explain I didn't know she wasn't invited...yadda yadda.
She's totally cool about it - and says No Big - not why she was calling. Then Why? Because SHE went home and told her husband how awful they were to me and how awful I felt and well she must have been convincing because she called to offer this...

Her miles for airfare ($700/ticket). I am speechless because who does that? I say thanks - really generous but I won't travel alone. DH & I do not travel via airplane without the kids. So - thanks but.... No she says, she 'll go with ME!!

WHAT??

Yes she says. She'll go with me and we'll use her miles.

Again, who does that? She has 2 kids of her own. A job. A life.

Not only is she the nicest person I know - let's NOT forget she was PURPOSELY looked over on the wedding list. Left off. Not invited. And STILL willing to go with me.

DH says he was going to tell me to go by myself (why he was quiet) but this is even better. He's leaving it up to me - whatever I want to do - he's totally cool with. So, now I am torn. Part of me wants to go SO BAD. The other part (the MOM part) thinks the other part is crazy. What would you do?