01.04.03 - 8:39 p.m.

My sister is leaving the country for six months. The sadness is palpable. Even though I will see her in a month and a half, and even though Scotland is a lovely place that exports bands like Teenage Fanclub and Travis, it doesn't stop me from missing her so hard that my chest is aching. I wish I had hugged her one more time before I went to work last Monday.

I skipped out on the "bachelorette party" I was supposed to attend last night. It wasn't even a true male-stripper/feather boa/blow-job shot event (hoo boy, can't wait to see the Google searches on that phrase), just a few girls going out to a few bars. If there were ever a bachelorette party I would not have minded attending, this would be it. But I could not drag my ass off the couch and into Hoboken. Not after fighting my recurring headache, a dying Christmas tree and the Leksvik computer desk.

So now I am probably thought of as a bad friend by all, even though I did not receive an invite to said bachelorette shindig until Friday afternoon. Via email. And I will be spending money over the next two weekends not only for the wedding of said bachelorette but for visits to closer friends whose bachelorette parties I would surely receive invitations to earlier than the day before the event.

So there.

I think today is the day I finally make Dan watch Singles. Unless, of course, there is yet another infernal football game on the telly, in which case, he can watch his hulking bone-crushers fight to the death in the bedroom. While I watch good Seattle cinema on the couch.