Bummed or Rain, Rain Go Away

Last night was a lunar eclipse ON the winter solstice.  You know who should have had prime viewing?  Los Angeles.  You know who got to see rain and clouds and morons trying to drive instead?  Los Angeles.  I'm not one to complain about the wet weather.  It is soothing and when last minute shopping, it comes in handy for clearing out open air malls (see moron driving comment above).  But to have missed a big ole red moon on the winter solstice seems wrong to me.  I mean, I should have been having midnight margaritas and singing "you put the lime in the coconut".  Alas . . . beautiful pictures here.

Lifetime Original Movies

I know I should be offended by the crazy stereotypes in all of these "holiday" movies but I can't help it . . . I love them.  Currently on TV is a story about a hardened career woman named Holly (played by Candace Cameron???) who hates Christmas and whose father is Tom Arnold.  Maybe she doesn't hate Christmas as much as she's so into being a professional that she can't get into the spirit.  She wears pearls and lots of lip gloss and tells people that she's businessy.  The one from last night was about some girl named Joy who made a Christmas wish to go back in time.  It's crap.  I know it's crap and yet I'm unable to tear myself away.

Next up: finding that Lifetime Movie that ended LeAnn Rimes marriage.  *sigh*

Why I Hate Wedding Planning

by Tessa Robinson

Two Words: Capital Club

Today I called to try to set up an appointment to visit so my mom and sister (both much more adept at picking out colors and centerpieces and shit) could see the place. Of course the coordinator wasn't able to accomodate. And, for kicks, she sent me the 2008 pricing. Now kids, I'm locked into this place . . . signed a contract and everything. And, when I suggested we finalize the menu at contract signing she balked. Apparently that was so she could raise the prices by $5 per person. I let her know that I will not be paying more and that I will be looking for another venue if she doesn't honor the prices that accompanied my contract. I'll find out on Wednesday if she and the club decide to grow some integrity.

Overall, though, much easier to stress about the stupid wedding than to continue feeling like the Angel of Death. So, thank you Capital Club, for giving me a destination (target) for my displaced anger.