The Great Addressing Storm of 2006

The horror of compiling a guest list is nothing compared to the horror of mind-numbing brain-searching to make sure everyone who should get an invite actually has one addressed to them. We sat there going "OK, when we lived in Toledo, who were we friends with? OK, got them. OK, when we were in Michigan ..." Etc.

And now it's all messy ... My guest list was in alphabetical order. The list was written neatly in my book, in pencil, in neat handwriting. The invites are kind of in a semblance of what might call a "stack" in a large bowl on the kitchen table.

Doesn't help the anxiety of a sloppy-looking apartment, but we're not at a stage to worry about fung shui.

The stamps are even the special "wedding stamps," (insert "oohs" and "aahs"), which my soon-to-be mother-in-law gave us -- She said the guy at the post office counter said "Believe me, lady, these are the stamps everyone's buying." She and I both found it hard to believe. They're kind of ... purple and bird-y (see above). But, well, if EVERYONE'S doing it ..!

Now Dave and I are just two worry-prone people staring at the heap of invites, biting our nails, grateful we're not asking for RSVPs.

So there's one less thing ...