do you want fries with that?

you all know our good connecticut friend who constantly amuses us with her good breeding (and willingness to talk about thongs and cuss like a sailor in public). i mean really- who else leaves messages like, "i was wondering if i could impose on you to borrow your greenday CD" on answering machines? after a sexandthecity-like dinner our little circle of sexandthecity-like girlfriends (to the extent that there are four of us) gave her a good razzing about her choice of restaurant. we'd decided that none of us could stand to shower, much less cook, and after weeks of her raving about her new favorite burger joint we finally gave in. she'd promised us some sort of neighborhood dive where we'd fit right in in our cargo pants and running shoes... not a self-proclaimed bistro that served free-range chicken and escargot (to which she wore a twin set with pearl buttons). as usual, my blogmate and i quickly buckled under the pressure of our impending yuppiness, ordered a bottle of pinot noir, and proceeded to have a perfectly lovely evening with our friends (deliberately mispronouncing things on the menu and mocking the personal habits of our coworkers).

i strolled into my apartment in high-spirits, not at all expecting to find a very funny and gentle rejection on my very own blog. until then i had no idea you could have an awkward silence all by yourself. don't get me wrong- i'm actually quite excited to have enticed a near-stranger to participate in our blogging adventure so actively- in fact i hope rcfog will keep it up...

nonetheless, i think it's about time i gave myself my own acronym. i've never felt like i needed one, as "me" seemed to suffice. but now i think vefob (very embarrassed friend of bride) is perhaps more fitting.