What is wrong with me? I can't seem to get on here and get a coherent post to save my rotten pelt right now. I have different ideas rattling around my head, but nothing at the stage where I have thought about it enough to really talk about it. The thing most on my mind right now is my little sister's plans for her marriage in about a year and her desire for me to be the matron-of-dishonor. And I mean dishonor. I am so soured towards marriage that I cannot muster up any enthusiasm for somebody planning to take such a rash and careless move. This will be her second marriage and I am shocked that she didn't learn her lesson the first time. True, this guy is a complete 180 from her ex husband, but I still do not trust marriage. Not one bit. She tried to talk me into going to a bridal expo, but even the mention of it made me break out in hives and want to go back to bed with a hot toddy and an ice pack on my head. She has dragged me to bridal stores where the sight of all that happily-ever-after-fairy-tale crap made me want to go on a rampage and picket outside the store. I had to fight the urge to projectile vomit split pea soup all over the mountains of tulle and fluff in Exorcist style. They tried to stuff me into some bride's maids dresses, but I was reluctant (to say the least) to tell them that I needed the bottom-heavy-gourd size. And I really hate those strapless bra things they have you wear to try that stuff on. I tried to play nice and helped her into different dresses, even took a bajillion pictures for her to ooh and ahh over later, but I had to put my foot down about trying on too many bride's maids dresses. She got a bunch of different catalogs with different bride's maids dresses that she has been pouring over and trying to get me interested in. Frankly, they all look about the same to me and I do not care about a ribbon over here instead of over there, so I told her to pick what she liked and I will wear it. My only request was that I cannot wear heels so choose accordingly. Me with heels on is like a pig on ice -- with stilettos on. It ain't pretty and is only good for a laugh. Not only do we have bride's maid catalogs, but the other day she got a catalog all about invitations. This thing is THICK, probably a good 100 pages or more and with several invitation styles on each page. She went through and circled the ones she liked! This patience from a woman who only cleans her room when I threaten bad things to her person. She tried to get my opinion on invitations, but I cannot care about all that nit-picky stuff. Pick one and be done with it! Who cares if the hearts are embossed or have your initials or are concave with only the last name initial?! And don't get me started on the cake or what colors she should go with. I'm sick to death of pondering whether these colors or those colors will go best with whatever else she has planned. I'm not trying to rain on her parade, but I am still hurting over the demise of my own marriage so it is hard to be thrilled about these things. To her credit, she is aware of this and tries to be sensitive when she can. But then she see mountains of tulle and fluff and all rational thoughts leave her head and are replaced with fairy tale wedding crap.