You are correct. One shower, one gift. If you are feeling awkward, you can send a card just saying hope you had a great time, I'll see you at the shower in July.
smrknd2
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Right?
This post is making me feel like an old fucking married.
Yes, it's called a Hostess Gift. Flowers, booze (not necessarily to be consumed with dinner, just as a gift), a box of chocolates, something small like that. I mean, I don't do that for every dinner party I attend, it's situational (BFFs having me over for pizza and movies? Gift not required though I might bring some…
I would love to love unsweetened iced tea of all colors but alas, I do not. Too bitter. I take my black tea Builders' style, too: cream, sugar, lots.
A sweetened green milk tea is just unfrozen ice cream. And modern Asian fast-food cuisine has sweet milk tea out the yin-yang, if you'll pardon the expression. Bubble Tea, anyone?
How I do in the summer:
The Japanese love sweet green tea flavored things. Green tea ice cream is seriously delicious.
OOoh twinsies!
My husband's sales team (and the CEO) have a habit of selling things that don't actually exist and then coming back to the office and telling the developers they have a week to deliver this totally new, totally-just-made-up-yesterday feature.
Or how about this: employers hire the staff appropriate to the workload.
Rocking the Avent Soothie pacifier, the premier binkie choice of discerning infants and toddlers everywhere.
Heh, it's not a big deal. I had a salpingogram, which is where they shoot a contrast dye into your fallopian tubes and take an x-ray to see if there are any abnormalities or blockages. A side-effect of the procedure itself is increased fertility because just the act of shooting that crap up there I guess cleans out…
No, not this article, but about ten bajillion articles last year. Apparently I have hit a nerve.
Word. What the hell.
I was kind of ambivalent. I mean, we tried for 5 years before actually conceiving but most of that time was more "not trying, not preventing, see where the chips fall." When I finally got off my ass and went to the endocrinologist at the age of 37 to see what was up with my fertility, I was fully expecting a diagnosis…
Fucking spare me. Are we still laboring under the impression that True Detective was some sort of meta-feminist masterpiece?
This is the most depressing thing I've read all day (granted, it's only 9AM, but still).
I had such a similar experience! I mean, I was kind of a little snot a little bit, and I did as poorly in my AP English class as I could get away with, so my teacher was somewhat justified in not liking me very much.