Not anywhere near as good a story as yours, but my maid of honor made me crack up as I was following her up the stairs mere seconds before we were set to go down the aisle, and I tripped and fell upward. We both got even more hysterical with laughter. Best thing that could have happened.

We didn’t do it, either, and no one noticed. Like you said, have a good party and no one will give a flying fuck.

I was convinced I would be a gigantic, wailing wreck. Turns out, I was so nervous to be walking down an aisle in front of that many people and trying not to trip that I barely had time to crack a smile. (Though I did break out in purple hives — which were gone by the end of the ceremony — and my photographer was kind…

My mom and I were discussing this a couple of months ago, and she actually said, “Well, you might change your mind” about going back to work after maternity leave. Um, so I should throw away that education you paid for and all that money you keep holding over my head (not to mention the guilt over not going to law…

Oh, SO this. My mom’s idea of sending treats to her kid’s class on birthdays was buying a big box of adult-size Hershey bars and passing them out as she had zero time to bake shit. Funny how that’s the only treat I remember, ever, from anyone, so clearly it did no harm. And I liked having my own “space,” too.

My mom still feels guilty about having been a working mom, and I’m in my late 30s. I really, really wish she could let that go, because she set an awesome example for me (if only she could transfer the guilt to where it REALLY belongs, but digression). It’s quite possible she just really hated her job, and I’d get…

A salient point you make.

Right?? And, of course, you KNOW that’s the kind of place that’s the worst offender.

There’s a place I’ve been to on the northern end of Central Park (read: not far from all the rich people) where I get a mani-pedi plus one of those add-on shoulder massages for $30. I tip like 50 percent because the ladies are awesome and the treatments last forever ... but now my guilt knows no bounds and I can’t go…

Adam Levine.

Or maybe that’s just because my now-husband and I had a LOT of sex with “Songs About Jane” playing in the background when we started dating.

OMG, Merle Norman!! When I was in my early 20s, she wanted me to get an “update,” so we went as a girls’ day; I hadn’t heard of it before, which she found so funny because that’s what she wore when she started wearing makeup as a teenager. I still swear by their brow products. (There isn’t one in my current area so I…

Agree. I’ve been wearing makeup for 25 years now. When I was 12, my mom didn’t want me to feel so self-conscious about my problem teenage skin, so she took me to the Clinique counter, where I got a light powder foundation, some blush, mascara, lip gloss and a tutorial on brows (I don’t have any — they’re white-blonde,…

I’d agree — because the makeup here really brought out their natural features! I wear a lot of makeup every day (super-pale, oily problem Irish skin, I’m a ghost without it), and to me, these were all excellent examples of thoughtful MUAs who know how to bring out natural beauty. They still look natural to me, not…

Dude, I'm fucking pregnant, and if I want that many pickles, I will go to the grocery store and buy the requisite number of pickles, not be a doucheface.

Worse, just the local paper.

I hate flying. What makes it better for me is a window seat, so when I’m booking, I always always always book that seat ahead of time. FUCK YOU if you want me to move out of the seat that I inevitably have paid extra for, bought especially far in advance to get and need in order to corral my irrational fear of flying.

Not that my anecdotal evidence means anything, but my brother IS an Air Force pilot, and damn if that man isn't anything but overly polite to any waitress. Or, well, people.

Charles de Gaulle was the only place I’ve ever gone through a security checkpoint ... and have the agent (a woman) actually reach down into my bra to get to my nipple and feel the whole inside of my bra cups. I’m pretty laid-back about tight security, but damn.

My girl cat has a habit of disappearing when it’s time for us to leave the house (we have to do a cat count because my husband is extremely absent-minded and has let the occasional cat outside). So her new nickname is Snotfaced Motherfucker. SHE GIVES NO FUCKS.

Kim looks more realistic in her goddamn video game than she does IRL.