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DEAR MAGS/DAGS: I am not your usual bride-to-be, in that I have been happily married for two months now. I’m not writing in to complain about my hubby, or my floral arrangements, or even my mother-in-law (Hello, Daphne, if you’re reading this! I mean, Mom!)
Mags and Dags, this is regarding the present. More specifically, this involves a wedding gift. However, since I am writing to you right now, I suppose the present could refer to present day, as well. They say there’s no time like it! Okay, I’ll make my point: My friend Madelyn did not give us a wedding gift. Can you believe it? I went to her wedding! Oh yes, I did! I spent oodles on her china pattern! On Limoges! And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but Limoges are not cheap.
What do I do? Write Madelyn a thank you note for coming to my wedding? What would I be thanking her for, though? Just showing up and enjoying the martini bar and taking turns licking our custom crafted ice sculpture with my uncle Fritz? Who does that? Besides my uncle Fritz, I mean. How does one handle someone showing up at their nuptials with no present? Should I address the issue or move on with my life? WHAT KIND OF MONSTER BEHAVES THIS WAY?
Empty Hands, Heavy Heart
MAGS: Hmm, well if it’s a monster from American history, I think probably a centaur. Or is it the Minotaur? The Badminton? No, no, it’s the one with the horse’s head in the bed and then the guy was screaming…don’t worry, he wasn’t hurt or anything. They were happy screams! I was doing research for a very important piece called “How I Spent My Summer Vacation”. I’m gonna blow the lid right open on this thing, and soon everyone will know the truth! I just need to do some more research, because if the walls have ears they probably have eyes and mouths and whole faces, too. This is why I had all of the mirrors removed from the hotel room, in case someone gets a job as my stand-in and tries to trick me. You wouldn’t believe how common that can be! Plus, I scare myself if I enter the bathroom unannounced. It’s one thing if the mirror is on the ceiling above my bed, but just hanging on the wall? I don’t like to judge people, but that is not how I choose to live my life.
I love limoges! I didn’t realize how expensive they had become, though. I remember my first job, selling limoges from a stand in my yard. I was a little older than the other kids who were selling limoges, but at nineteen, I needed a job where I could party all night and only work two hours a day. Plus, I got to work on my tan, too. I used to sell a cup of limoges for ten dollars, but people used to pay me triple, because by the time I was nineteen my cups were 36 D’s. Just by selling limoges, I was able to put myself through spring break!
DAGS: You must be new here. If you want advice on prostitution or overall stupidity, look to Mags. If you want the dirty truth about your stinking friends, I’m your woman. Mags is EVERYONE’S woman, where as I am faithful to the core. But don’t test me, because I will drag you down to the sweltering depths of lawfully wedded HELL.
Look, you’re not going to be friends with your wedding guests years down the line. It’s not how life works. People are petty, but it’s always important to be pettier than the pettiest petty person. Madelyn was at your wedding, so it’s a given that you know where she lives. The way I see it, you have two options:
Option #1: Hire a Private Investigator to take smarmy photos of her. Use these for blackmail purposes. Let me know if you need a P.I. who specializes in blackmail, because I have a great guy. Very thorough, and willing to scale walls.
Option #2: Go to Madelyn’s house and take something very important of hers, like a porch rocker, or a lawn gnome. Then send her a ransom note. You may refer to my ransom note tutorial, which I will send you. It’s great, because the ransom note also doubles as a colorful patchwork quilt! A DIY project that is multifunctional, and can be handed down for generations to come!
If you don’t want to handle it my way, I suppose you can do something ridiculous like be the bigger person. I’m told that is what adults do, so if you think you’re better than me, go ahead. Go cry over spilled limoges, you complete moron.
DEAR MAGS/DAGS: Everyone in my family was invited to Cousin Whitney’s wedding. Everyone, except for me. We were BFF’s as kids. She even invited Toby, and he’s only my half-brother! That’s like inviting a half-cousin! I’m really hurt. Any words of encouragement?
Wounded by Whitney
MAGS: I’m going to need a photo of Toby. If I approve, I will need to know the date, time and location of the wedding. I will show your half-brother a whole entire good time!
You know what? Just send me Whitney’s phone number. I’ll call her up myself and score an invite. She’ll probably be cool with it, since you’re the only one who wasn’t invited. I just have to make a mental note not to mention you, Cousin What’s-Her-Name. This will probably work out, because I don’t know your name! I won’t have to fall back on the skills I learned in that acting class, or in that how to fake an orgasm class. Actually, I think it was the same class! The instructor said I was a natural, but I told him he was wrong. I wax.
DAGS: You wouldn’t know, but I just put my hand through a window. I’m calm now, and dizzy. I have a first aid kit, so, don’t worry about me. Not that anybody is, because it’s always about MAGS!
I’m calm and I’m losing blood. You hear that? I’m calmly losing blood. Because I AM A PROFESSIONAL! You think a bloody laptop is going to give me pause? That’s why we have an IT Department! They handle these matters! No, siree, my advice flow will not cease just because of a little blood flow. But I am going to the hospital, because I opt to be surrounded by PROFESSIONALS, like myself! A doctor and I are not so different. I like to think of myself as a wedding surgeon. Mags isn’t even fit to be a wedding candy striper, even though, yes I know she has the outfit!
Back to you: I say you demand an invite. If that doesn’t work, show up on her big day in a wedding gown and veil. Just imagine another bride at her wedding! That’ll hit Whitney right in the old garter belt!
Godspeed to you, Crazed Cousin! Now I must bid you adieu!
You probably don’t want to read Mags’ new literary endeavor, “How I Spent My Summer Vacation”. You do? Seriously? I don’t know…it’s pretty dirty…okay, that’ll be $69.00.
Mags is Maggie "Wild" Childes: Mags has never been married. She has however, dated married men, some prior to their nuptials. Thus, she knows a lot about the wedding planning process.
Dags is Dagmar Hewlett: Dags had her own wedding three years ago, but that's not going to prevent her from planning yours.
©2011 Christina Delia