I started my wedding planning a year ago so that I could have a decent relaxing few weeks before the day. You know what they say, if you want God to have a good laugh, tell him or her your plans. So I told my family to get my parents their embassy appointments A YEAR AGO. But like typical naija they lollygagged until the last minute. When my parents failed to meet their 214B immigration policy (prove they will return … actually my mom forgot where I worked), I lost it. After sitting in my the district director of my congressperson bawling my eyes out … (thankfully she understood the problem since her daughter just got married), I spent all day yesterday making copies, sending documentation to my congressman’s office so they could have the Justice Department re-interview my parents as soon as possible. Eyin blogville please keep us in your prayers oh. If they had interviewed six months ago they would have been eligible to re-interview again and hopefully get visas. I now have a healthy distrust of having family members in Nigeria make plans for you. I am soooooooo pissed.
Then – on my way home – my physician called me. Now I love Dr. B but I was not in the right frame of mind. She was calling because I had apparently been downing a lot more Vicodin than I usually do. My stress pill Ativan seems not to be working so I had been relying more heavily on the Vicodin.
“Dr. B, I am so busy and stressed right now that I really don’t have the time to take care of my health. I just need to get through this wedding.”
I should be doing better because two months ago, I picked up a copy of a young adult novel called ‘The Space Between’ about the adventures of Lilith and Lucifer’s daughter, Daphne and how she traveled to earth to save a suicide from entering hell. For some reason, the book sent me into a tailspin. I had a full blown panic attack and had to have emergency medication sent to my pharmacy. After that episode, Dr, B called me in and handed me a bunch of prescriptions and said, “we are going to get you through July.”
But I digress.
Any way after I got home last night, I said to Turtle, “I am getting drunk tonight.”
“Buffalo Wild Wings?”
“Yup. Let’s go!”
Now, I have not been drinking like I used to due to all the medications I have been taking. So of course my tolerance level was dangerously low. I slammed a Bahama Mama, then proceed to drink five cosmopolitans.
The last thing I remember is taking a shower and going to bed.
This morning I got up and the kitchen looked like there had been a food fight.
“What the heck happened?”
“Well,” he began, “When I found you, you were going through two bowls of rice and stew. And you had chicken meat and bones in your hair.”
Me: *blank stare*
“Apparently someone can’t handle their booze.”
“I knew that was coming.” I sniffed, tilting my head up in an attempt to appear dignified. “I am going to be late for work.”
Well. I have had a lot happen lately, attended two wonderful showers and having a third today at work. Yay! I love gifts.
I visited Nashville a month ago and ate at the best Italian themed restaurant I have ever seen.
I met an aspiring singer. I think her name is Ashley Edwards or something like that. I hope she makes it.
Actually there were musicians everywhere.
Saw the Parthenon replica. Impressive and totally not suited for Nashville.
I had to go bar hopping…….
All in all, a neat town. Wish I thought of having my bachelorette party there.