i absolutely, most definitely have too much work to be blogging right now. but, sometimes, real-life situations impose themselves in such a way that our plans -- to work, to clean, to call, to eat, to sleep, ... -- get thwarted. (like when you're already running late for a really pressing work thing and, as you bend over to pick up the keys you've just dropped on the sidewalk halfway to the office, the seam in your pant crotch splits in no uncertain terms, completely exposing your everything to the world, forcing you to head back home to change, making you embarrassingly late for the meeting, and ultimately leading to myriads of unfortunate professional consequences. oh, eff!)
today's (now abnormal) weekend adventures in coffeeshopping involve, on my not-so-distant left, a very loud, wiry, lispy, rather-desperately-in-need-of-attention, forty-something, self-proclaimed-expert, wedding planner/photographer who is telling the late-thirties prenuptialists how things'll be done.
my ears perk up when i overhear how the couple announced their engagement (via facebook, of course), the proclamation involving posting a pic of their dog -- apparently, a purebred french bulldog (eighteen or nineteen pounds -- with not an ounce of fat on 'er, though!) -- with a sign placed in front
of her: “my daddy just asked my mommy to marry him.”
i have just groaned quietly to myself (the kind of groan that would otherwise be accompanied by dragon mist shooting outta my ears and the sound of a steam train whistle). and, in my mind, i've also aggressively rolled my eyes in every which way (which, truth be told, begins to hurt after a short while). but Expert is getting paid for her interactions with the happy couple, so y'know, her response is a touch different than mine: the dog thing is SO cute! (oh, woof!)
then, things get worse. because, obviously, ThirtySomethingOne and ThirtySomethingTwo want to incorporate Lolita (yes, that's the dog's name) in the wedding day. thus begin discussions of the logistics of how to manage Lolita for the photo shoot, intermingled with every pet owner's dream -- i.e., the opportunity to describe the nitty-gritty of their pet's ever-idiosyncratic personality:
oh, if she [aka the planner's assistant] holds the ball, Lolita'll watch the ball! (TSOne and TSTwo glance over at each other, with proud, knowing, saccharine smiles that scream "honey, aren't we blessed to have such a perfect pup!') she'll just sit there for hoooours watching her ball. that ball's her nemesis. *insert chuckling over the hilariously weird ways of the dog-cum-prize-child*
shortly before wrapping up their meeting, Expert announces with great satisfaction: well, i find your ideas surprisingly cohesive!
if "cohesive" means "dogful", i'm not sure anyone could disagree. and, y'know, a good wedding is nothing if not cohesive.
and now back to translating...
