I am not looking forward to this weekend. The christening... it approaches mercilessly. (And I just discovered that there is no such word as unmercilessly. Unmerciful. Yes. Mercilessly. Yes. Unmercilessly. Not a snowballs chance in hell. Sigh.)
We still have to buy a present, discussions (hostage negotiations?) are underway to determine
A) How many people are going to go in on a present?
B) How much does this mean we have to spend?
C) Who's going to buy the present?
D) Can someone just tell me what the hell we are giving BEFORE I arrive at the christening this time?
I'm praying that we don't have assigned seating. I don't feel like playing small talk. I don't want to hang out with exceedingly proper Danes who all know how to do things the "right" way and correct me when I'm wrong, like I'm a child. I have WAY better things to do with my time this weekend than eat boiled potatoes and pork. Is it too late to suddenly become Jewish?
I do not want to play "teach the American to speak Danish". I feel a rising tide of rudeness creeping up my body. By Saturday it's going to explode across the table. "I'm sorry, the American does not wish to speak Danish with people who are too stupid to understand her. It's not that I speak poor Danish, it's that you all are stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. So spise lort og dod, danske svine." Or something to that effect because I can't really spell Danish. Because if I have to show that, yes, in fact I am better at saying 'rød grød med fløde' than you thought I would be and Oh ho ho, yes, it is SO FREAKIN' FUNNY to talk about how no one can say it correctly, Ha Ha, yes, tell me another story about how you tried to get another foreigner to say it and they failed in such a funny way... I'm going to stab someone with a knife. I'm going to stand over their body, knife dripping blood, clutched in my fist, as I scream "you know why I can say 'rød grød med fløde'? Because EVERYONE ALWAYS ASKS ME TO!"
I'm going to have to shave. And my pelt was just getting soft and luxurious again.
I'm whining. I want pity. I'd throw a pity party for myself this weekend, except I have to go to a stupid christening.