The dog days of summer are upon us.
I've got 2 nights between weddings to make a brief update here.
There will, I promise you, more written about the weddings I've been to this year. I just need some time to catch my breath.
Maybe, like, I'll have my thoughts together by October?
Two days ago we attended the wedding of one of the original "Undateables," and my favorite Blues Brother. Quite possibly the only thing that could make Ohio interesting are the nuptial rituals of the DD.
And I'm not talking about a cup size kids.
Although, side note (and boys, you may want to avert you gaze here for a moment.) It is no joke shopping for a bra to go on under a special occasion dress when you are rockin' these kind of bodacious ta-tas. Gah, seriously. I am exhausted from the dressing room trips alone. And I haven't even gotten to the rehearsal dinner yet.
Two days from now I embark upon my first foray into actual inclusion in a wedding party. That's right. I have gotten this far in life (and never you mind how far that is, thank you very much) and this is the first time I am going to be a bridesmaid.
I couldn't possibly be more excited about standing up for darling Kristabeth. And, I am happy to report, she has chosen a lovely dress. For me. I really don't know what her wedding gown looks like.
Sure, I've stage managed more weddings than anyone should probably ever attend in their lives but I've never been expected to, you know, stand there with a bouquet and look pretty. I've always been in the back, bossing people around. Occasionally weeping quietly. A lot of the time laughing at things (Bryan.) There are going to be official pictures of me now. I can't let my makeup run this time!
I have purchased every tool known to women to ensure "prettiness" for this wedding. This, of course, means a lot of squeezing and molding of body parts. Lots of painting and tweezing and exfoliating. And, in my case, a lot of slathering on of fakeo-tan-in-a-tube.
That's right Krista, only for you will I subject myself to self-tanner, lest I blind wedding guests with the sad, Midwestern, whiteness of my exposed skin.
Curse this place and it's lack of proper beaches!
But it doesn't matter. Because it's not about me.
A wedding is a beast I completely understand. A bunch of folks get together to make two people look absolutely fantastic and create a beautiful event to honor them. Everyone else is just scenery. Granted, fabulous looking scenery, but scenery none the less. Everyone pitches in and makes it all come together for the bride and groom.
You may have to travel thousands of miles. You may have to endure the strip-mall mecca that is Boardman (Boredom) Ohio. You may have to spend money you'd rather put towards purchasing an HD TV. And you may have to spend a night sleeping on the floor of a hotel room. But, you do it out of love. You do it because when you commit to a wedding, either as a guest or as a member of the party, or even as a well meaning friend with a knack for moving people around, you're there out of love. And that should surpass any mild discomforts (spanx) or random acts of chaos (rehearsal.) It's a little bit of selflessness on your part. Making this thing that is a wedding happen for your friends, or your family. Or, in my case, my friends who are my family.
I know it sounds slightly insane but I wouldn't trade a moment of the sweating, stair climbing, being snipped at by cranky old ladies or last minute runs for decorating supplies that I've gone through as a part of the weddings I have helped organize for anything in the world. In the end you don't remember the food, or the DJ, or how much traffic you sat in to get there and back again. You remember the love. You remember the earnestness with which vows were exchanged. You remember the faltering of the best man's voice as he gave his speech and the hug that you got from the bride when she finally got around to greeting your table.
You will occasionally remember the after party. But, not if it was a good one.
One more wedding to go this year.
My next big project?