A journalist observes life in the far north.
Today I am attending a bridal shower hosted by a woman who hurt my feelings. If I don’t go, everyone will know I am a big baby, and most of all I will know I am a big baby, and I will think less of myself. I hope the woman who hurt my feelings has the grace to say something nice to make me feel better. Truth is, she probably doesn’t realize it’s me who she callously snubbed.
The shower is in honor of someone who is more or less a former roommate. She dated a former roommate and practically lived with us. I can’t not go. It would be bitchy.
I wish I could not go because I feel like Simon Cowell told me I am fat and my voice sucks. Or like I sent an e-mail to a crush asking him for coffee and I was ignored. Or like I was just voted off the island.