In a series of events that is decidedly not "me," I've completely dropped the ball on this wedding that we're going to this weekend. It's located in South County, Rhode Island, a "quaint," "beach-front" area that seems to cater to the yacht and beach set -- a group that, financially, we can't be playing with this month.
How have I dropped the ball on this one? Well, we've got an event to attend on Friday night, and I have no idea what I'm going to wear. Maybe a skirt, or maybe pants. Who knows. I'll have to figure it out though, as we're going to have to leave for the party right from my work. Aside from that, Brian's decided that we should spend the night out there on Saturday, after the wedding, and I haven't been able to get us a room. Of course, this could be attributed to the fact that, well, it's summer in Rhode Island's hoity beach area, and I just started calling around for a room today. Everywhere has two- or three-night minimums, or they're just straight booked up. I'm at a bit of a loss, to tell you the truth.
It should be fun to see how this weekend ends up going down.