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: Butterflyfish

Wedding hells

Rehearsal. Rehearsal dinner. Rehearsal dinner scheduled very inconveniently for those of us travelling from out of town, necessitating an even longer visit home, during which no school work can be done.

My brother's wedding. My baby brother's wedding. My unemployed baby brother's huge formal wedding, which involves rehearsals and post-wedding brunches and therefore several 'nice' outfits for me and more for Clownfish.

"Hey, Butterflyfish, did I mention you are doing a reading?" Yeah, you dropped that one on me at Thanksgiving. I'm honored, really. Surprised and honored. Do you think I'd be able to see it in advance, or would it be better if I first saw it when 'here comes the bride' starts playing? Maybe I should ad lib? My brother -- not so good with the details. Or forethought.

Stuck with my family for four days. Only booze will keep me from going all Lord of the Flies on them. Bullshark will only be there to talk me down out of trees for Saturday itself. He's got work and Reserves. Sure... likely excuse. He just wants to avoid the carnage.

Am I gonna get any studying done? That would be a hell no.

I'll be at the wedding, reading something I haven't be given in advance, in front of tons of people and looking like a whale in the dress I bought on-line. A blue whale in sparkly silver Steve Madden heels that I bought on sale last year. And are too tall and too tight and will invariably make me fall on my whale ass.

Anticipated conversation with 90% of the relatives who will show up at this thing:
"Congratulations! Wow you are pregnant! You look great, though!"
Uh, no. . . my sister is pregnant, not me. She the skinny one over there, who looks like she swallowed a basketball.
"Oh, I am sorry. How did I make that mistake?"
Well, she and I weigh the about same. Actually, she weighs less though she's eight and a half months pregnant. But she's like an inch shorter than me, so that's totally why she weighs less. It's like, what 40 pounds for one inch of height, right? Anyway, easy mistake.

My Mom is gonna drink a lot and say any of the following, loudly:

I can't believe these heathens don't want to get married in a church! How did I raise an atheist! Why don't they have a videographer? I wanted a video! Butterflyfish, will you get a video camera? I wanna record this thing myself. I don't know from where. Why do you have to make everything difficult? Don't you have a camera? Why wouldn't you bring one? You look fat. Don't I look skinny? I spent too much on my dress but I wanted to look pretty. Hey [Bride'sMom], do you know how much my dress cost?

I won't even attempt drunk Dad dialogue. It will involve sloppy declarations of love and possibly some weeping because his only son is now a man or something. Also, he'll mention that I'm fat, but will only do it whever we're eating. He's a lot less entertaining.

But: Clownfish in a tuxedo, leading my (invariably) tearful but adorable two-year-old niece down the aisle. Cute overload.

That--and a glass or nine of wine--is gonna make it all better.

If I survive, I'll be back Sunday.

Full post as published by Butterflyfish on December 03, 2008 (boomark / email).