oh no he didn't
Dearly beloved,
We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Theo Epstein's bachelorhood.
All of us, from the ones who were going to marry him (i.e., Suzie) to the ones who were going to shut up and deal with it or else suddenly find their invitations to the wedding rescinded (i.e., Beth, Pam), will dearly miss the way Theo's single status tantalized and entertained us on a daily basis. We shall never again stare at Boston Globe file photos and think of how when we are married to him, we will make sure his shirts are ironed because for God's sake, no one should leave the house like that. We will miss the girlish thrill of writing "Mrs. Theo Epstein" all over our presidential history notes as if we are in fifth grade when we are in fact college students with jobs, loans, and Massachusetts liquor IDs. And words cannot describe the depression we feel when we realize that our contingency plan has been shot to hell and we shall actually have to find real boyfriends, wooing them with a combination of our sharp wit and appealing desperation, and that these real boyfriends will likely not be able to get our dads Manny Ramirez' autograph.
We will all deal with this in our own ways. Some will put on a brave face and continue as if nothing has happened; others will mourn privately; and still others will play Joy Division on their iPod and curl up into a small ball, glugging wine straight from the bottle and howling inarticulately into the phone at those who are putting on brave faces or mourning privately. But through the grief, we should remain hopeful that this, too, shall pass. We should not entertain thoughts of seeking out Theo's fiancee and stealing her ring through an elaborately concocted plan involving a bit of string, some strawberry jam, and a fairly exciteable rabbit. We should not contemplate throwing ourselves off the BU Bridge and impaling ourselves on a sailboat mast. There are other attractive, unattached, well-educated whiz kids on the horizon. Jed Hoyer was still single, the last time we checked.
Mourners, dwell not on this tragedy. We will recover; we will move on; and we will prosper in spite of the events which have transpired this week. I leave you with one thought, a thought that should raise your spirits -- at least you don't have to shred 500 pre-printed nondenominational wedding invitations whimsically shaped as baseballs that have just been rendered totally useless.
Thank you, and God bless.
We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Theo Epstein's bachelorhood.
All of us, from the ones who were going to marry him (i.e., Suzie) to the ones who were going to shut up and deal with it or else suddenly find their invitations to the wedding rescinded (i.e., Beth, Pam), will dearly miss the way Theo's single status tantalized and entertained us on a daily basis. We shall never again stare at Boston Globe file photos and think of how when we are married to him, we will make sure his shirts are ironed because for God's sake, no one should leave the house like that. We will miss the girlish thrill of writing "Mrs. Theo Epstein" all over our presidential history notes as if we are in fifth grade when we are in fact college students with jobs, loans, and Massachusetts liquor IDs. And words cannot describe the depression we feel when we realize that our contingency plan has been shot to hell and we shall actually have to find real boyfriends, wooing them with a combination of our sharp wit and appealing desperation, and that these real boyfriends will likely not be able to get our dads Manny Ramirez' autograph.
We will all deal with this in our own ways. Some will put on a brave face and continue as if nothing has happened; others will mourn privately; and still others will play Joy Division on their iPod and curl up into a small ball, glugging wine straight from the bottle and howling inarticulately into the phone at those who are putting on brave faces or mourning privately. But through the grief, we should remain hopeful that this, too, shall pass. We should not entertain thoughts of seeking out Theo's fiancee and stealing her ring through an elaborately concocted plan involving a bit of string, some strawberry jam, and a fairly exciteable rabbit. We should not contemplate throwing ourselves off the BU Bridge and impaling ourselves on a sailboat mast. There are other attractive, unattached, well-educated whiz kids on the horizon. Jed Hoyer was still single, the last time we checked.
Mourners, dwell not on this tragedy. We will recover; we will move on; and we will prosper in spite of the events which have transpired this week. I leave you with one thought, a thought that should raise your spirits -- at least you don't have to shred 500 pre-printed nondenominational wedding invitations whimsically shaped as baseballs that have just been rendered totally useless.
Thank you, and God bless.
posted by Suzie at 7:05 PM
3 Comments:
Well, I've gotten several phone calls and IM's today from concerned friends. So says Steve: "There's still hope. After all, 50% of all marriages end in divorce."
I thought he was gay
LA LA LA MANTON I CAN'T HEAR YOU
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