Single in Saint Louis: The Wedding Trilogy

Preamble to the Wedding Trilogy

Mon, 26 Sep 2005 13:16:19 GMT

It has been a long weekend. So, this is a long blog. I am writing it in three parts. I feel conflicted between two realms of my happy life. However, my duty to write this blog has just become of the utmost importance. I am now, officially, the last single person in my circle of high school and college friends. The divorce rate gives me solace in times like this. I reassure myself that sacrificing for my law degree is the right thing to do. This reassurance is precisely why my self-pity and loathing was limited to one 15 minute outburst in a church bathroom this weekend. 15 minutes, post wedding, pre-reception where I actually cried in a mirror, freaked out about my masacara, stopped crying with a little help from mom, and reassured myself that I have a beautiful life.

In my 15 minutes far from fame it didn't take long to remember my awesome loft. A loft that a husband would crowd. A husband that comes with hours of ESPN, boy clothes, and man socks. In my 15 minutes far from fame it didn't take much to remember the wonderful freedom I possess from being single. Freedom that includes but is not limited to not having to check in unless I just want to, and freedom from having to tend to another person's presence. In my 15 minutes far from fame it didn't take a lot to reason that as a single person I have half the laundry, half the dishes, half the trash, and when something gets lost I know for certain that it was that darn ghost again that lives somewhere in this apartment. All of life's little stresses are cut in half.

I had prepared for months for the questions and comments that married people are not supposed to say, but ask anyway. "Oh, don't worry dear, you will be next." "Someday he will just be there." "Do you have a boyfriend?" "Are you dating anyone these days?" After three days of these interviews and interrogations, the psychological damage was running deep. But all it took was mom, 15 minutes in a bathroom, and a little self assurance to overcome. It didn't take much to remember why I love being single.

The Wedding

Sun, 25 Sep 2005 23:05:58 GMT

So there it was. Time for her to walk down the aisle. Her dress was floofed. The bridesmaids were in line. The flowergirl, who had befriended me over a shared interest in Shark Tale, had a tight grip on my hand. One by one the bridesmaids made their way down the aisle. All as if to say, "This is my friend. If you hurt her we will seek revenge." Then it was my turn to walk. I stared down the aisle which immediately became a mile long. I could only imagine how it must've seemed to Bride Linz.

All of a sudden the day seemed so real. The flowers, the dresses, the bride standing 20 feet behind me who has been a dear sister to me since high school. The groomsmen wearing goofy grins. My mom smiling at me as if encouraging me to walk. The wedding planner tapped me on the shoulder for the third time. I took my first step. Thinking walk slowly, you may never walk down an aisle again.

From my position at the front of the church I could see Bride Linz in full bridal gear. She sparkled. Not just her crystal adorned dress, but her eyes. Her smile was perfect. Ben watching eagerly. Her father holding her arm, he looked afraid. I felt a hint of jealousy. Which was quickly pushed aside the second it hit me. This was her perfect day. The day she has been planning since she was five.

Both Melissa and I knew of the book. The book about 5 inches thick where she had been keeping every plan for her wedding since 1985. The book that laid out her perfect day. That grew larger each year until it was time to actually use it. I felt like I was losing my well attained grip. I was about to cry. I fought the tears. Turned my back to the crowd to watch the bride.

Honestly, All I could see was the Maid of Honor's shoulder. Probably, a good thing I couldn't see more. I probably would have lost it then. "You may kiss your bride." Boomer Sooner sounded down the aisle. One by one the bridesmaids filed out after them. We took pictures. Then a wave of loneliness hit me, and I sank.

I held my own long enough to go to the reception. Everything seemed to fall into this surreal world. Like a dream. People were speaking to me. I couldn't speak to them. I saw my other best friend Beth. After a short short conversation left to go find my parents. On the way, I ran into Melissa. "Are you ok?" "Yeah, I'm fine, I reassured her." I don't think I was convincing.

My parents were sitting at a table with some old friends of our family. My mom noticed my uncomfortable state. Introduced me to the friends and then I said, "I need to go now. Right now." She asked "Do you want me to come?" I don't think she even knew where I was going. I lied. "No, I'm fine. I will be fine." I rushed to the bathroom. Tears welling in my eyes the whole way.

My brain rushed through failed relationship after failed relationship. I began to feel totally inadequate. Like I would never be the bride. I swung through the bathroom door. Grabbed a roll of toilet paper from a stall and began to wipe away any hope the mascara had of running. I blew my nose. Wiped my masacara. Blew my nose. Huffed that crying huff. Then mom came flying into the bathroom.

She looked at me with those all knowing eyes. The eyes that fully exemplify that bond between mother and daughter. The ones that are filled with years of complicated histories. Eyes that have seen doors slammed, profanity yelled, feet stomped, threats to run away, and advised against some of the worst boyfriends. The same eyes that have soothed tears, watched dance recital after dance recital, eyes that remember holding a 7 pound 6 once baby girl once in a hospital bed and being the happiest woman in the world. Eyes that can in an instant seer into my soul and know what I am thinking before I even think of acting. Mom's eyes. Right now, I needed them.

She ran to me and hugged me. Let me cry. Then came what I needed to hear. "This has been really hard for you hasn't it. Would it have been easier with a date? We could have found you one." All I could do was nod my head. "I thought it might be. You have kept a good game face though. Like a good lawyer would. Like you do in court when you want to break down into tears, but know you have to talk. So you save it for the car." I cracked a smile under the hoards of tears streaming down my face. I couldn't really talk. I didn't really need to. "Different lives take different paths. You have chosen a different path. All of your friends are out of school. Working at jobs. You need to focus on law school. You need to focus on your path. You have worked so hard to get to where you are. You need to stay focused." I crept in between much softer sobs two words. "I know." Mom said, "I know you know. Lets get back to the reception. " I took a few minutes to completely calm down. Check my mascara, make up, lipstick. Let the red swelling around my eyes subside a little. I took a few minutes to let go. A much needed two minutes.

Two minutes of fifteen. Two minutes in which my mom rubbed my back as I played with my hair in a mirror in a church bathroom. Two minutes where I slowly found my sanity. Two minutes where I regained a sense of my fabulous single life. A life I could not have if I wasn't single. A life I was proud of only two days earlier. A life where I did not have to worry about impressing in-laws, wedding planning, or anyone but myself. Two minutes where I remembered who I was, what I wanted from life, and how it is not always going to be what everyone thinks it should be.

I walked out the door. My mother, my no choice best friend, on my arm. My head held high. Ready once again to face the world. I walked into the reception, and was able to talk to people again.

At our table, my father sat with a sly grin on his face. The kind of grin he has when he has been up to something. A mischievious little boys grin. My mom and I immediately began to search. "Party favors are golf tees." My father said as if he was confessing something. "Have those people left?" He pointed to the table next to ours. It appeared they had left the reception. "Oh, look, they didn't want their golf tees. What a waste." My mother picked up the golf tees from the next table and handed them to my father. Piled high on our table were more sacks of little pink golf tees in tulle sacks. I couldn't help it. I just died laughing.

It is moments like this why I love my family.

So, I didn't catch the bouquet. I never have been much one for bouquet catching anyway. Perhaps, it isn't so bad to always be the bridesmaid. You don't have to spend all the time and money on the wedding. There are no burgeoning family rifts. All I need is a father and mother who love me, and a father who loves golf almost as much.

Congratulations Linsey and Ben Michaud! I wish you the best!

DAY 2 of Best Friends Wedding

Sun, 25 Sep 2005 20:06:55 GMT

I wake up early. Mom wants to leave at 9am to go look for the wedding gifts. We can avoid traffic that way. I didn't sleep well the night before. My eyes are tired and bleary. I have actually been quietly laying in my bed since 4am. I heard mom wake up around 5:30. Neither of us could really sleep. I like to think it is because we both were so excited to see each other, but I think it was really because we are both little insomniacs. Bride Linz is registered in 3 different stores. We try store 1 first...

Store 1

I run the registry. After a short jot over it, I decide I want to get her something nicer. She is my best friend after all. I think of variations of the things on the list, but nothing is really tickling my fancy. My mom agrees. Her look is obvious. We want more for Bride Linz. We leave store 1 with little more than a "I think we should try the other places first. We can always come back here."

Store 2

Before going in to store 2 I call Dre. (New mommy. Has blog on right) We decide to meet for lunch. I want to see the baby. I ask if my mom can come too. Mom immediately begins to find other things to do for my lunch break with Dre. She feels left out. All her friends have grandchildren. I understand completely. She feels the same way about babies that I feel about weddings. We have an unspoken understanding. I think about meeting dre and not having much to say. I am worried I won't know what to do when I see the baby. I decide I need my mom to help me through this. I love Dre, but being a mommy changes people. It has to. It isn't a fault it is a very good thing. I just haven't learned to relate yet. Not enough babies around.

We go in and search the store high and low. Fiesta ware, we check out Bride Linz's china. Very traditional. Both the china and the silverware. We talk a bit about how Bride Linz everything is, and what we would choose if we were choosing china. Both of us knowing the exact parameters of where this conversation can and cannot go. I settle on a nice gift and we leave to meet Dre.

Upon arriving at Mexican Food, Mom heads directly to the bathroom. I wait outside for Dre. Soon I see her with a little lump of Theo riding curled on her shoulder. He is cute in that cute baby way. Dre looks like she is about to fall asleep. I take Theo from her to hold him. She mentions that he was sleeping through the night for awhile, but has decided he doesn't want to now. I smile and coddle little theo a bit, but was relieved to see mom standing inside the door with arms ready to take the little man. I talk to Dre. She has a new house. She and Sam are happy. Theo is a doll. They go to the zoo, and she loves being a mom. She wants to spend a lot of time with him so she has taken a job with pet smart. She trains dogs in the evenings three days a week so she can spend time with the baby. I am impressed with how she handles herself, but my learned conversation only goes so far.

Mom immediately picks up the pace. How has he been doing? How was the birth did everything go smoothly? Pregnancy is awful isn't it! But what a bundle of joy you get after! It makes you forget all the pain! She tells some stories about when I used to sleep all the time. About how my brother never slept. About how they though I was dead because I was so fast asleep through her entire pregnancy that I didn't move. Dre and mom discuss mom stuff, then mom plays with baby theo. She's a natural. You can tell she has had a few years practice. She knows just how to bounce, just how to coo. Just how to get that little man to smile. Theo is a big and strong baby, and mom is clearly, an experienced mom. Dre, has her obvious mom instincts. They can relate. At first, I feel a little out of the loop, but remember that I have a friend somewhere in Dre. A friend who used to sit and talk in big green grassy knolls about boys, and God, and stars, and football. So, I find things to talk about. I ask about the people we know. How they are doing. What they are doing. Where they are living. It was a great lunch. A great break before the start of the wedding festivities. A great break before the Rehearsal Dinner.

Rehearsal

At 6:00 I headed to the church for the rehearsal. I was the first one there, so I walked around the church until I found an open door and went inside. I walked in through the reception area. The feeling is indescribable. Realizing that this is the place of the last reception of the last wedding you will probably be in until your own. It was a little lonely. I walked through the hallway to the church. No flowers yet, just tons of tulle lined the pews. I set down my purse and went for a jot around the interior of the church so I could gain my whereabouts. Soon other bridesmaids began to arrive.

First, Amber. Amber was a roomate of Bride Linz in college. Married. And an overall very nice person. I became a little nervous about my purse as people showed up. So, I entrusted it to her husband. Very useful man.

Next, was Lindsey. She was the other single person at the wedding. Not quite as flamboyantly outgoing as I, but nonetheless feeling just as much out of place.

Then, There is Melissa. Melissa has been looking all over for a job. Living down in Dallas, Tx with her husband. A very firey personality. Fun from the get go. I quite like her. Come to find out. She is good friends with one my two high school sweethearts, Brandon Reed. He is a chef now, living in Oklahoma City, trying to put pieces of his life back together after a rough hoe with some shady women. I would have loved to hear from him. Not out of wedding bliss or hope, but just because at one point in my younger life this guy was my life.

Last there was Courtney, The maid of honor, the brides cousin. Cries very easily at weddings. Was crying before the rehearsal was over just pretending like it was a wedding. Married to a youth minister. But she has to die for curly blonde hair.

We did our thing as Bride Linz sat in the first row and called the shots. The preacher explained our every move in detail. It was like a huge batch of choreography. Once again. I am in the corp. This is time number 3 or 4 so I have the moves down. Walk to front of church smiling like happy to be there. Stand at front of church watch bride walk in. Turn to look at bride and groom as they google at one another. Turn to look at bride and groom as they leave the church. At pew 1 or 2 grab respective groomsmen and leave. After a few hurried instructions about tomorrow, the rehearsal ended and we headed out the door to the dinner.

Rehearsal Dinner

I realize on my way out of the church that I do not have any clue where I am going. I run to Lindsey. The other single Bridesmaid who is walking with none other than my high school football team's quarterback. I bum a ride. On the way to the Petroleum Club, where the rehearsal dinner was held, we chat about a few things. I mainly listen to Lindsey and quarterback discuss old times. We get out...Level Orange in the garage. Then take an elevator up to the Club on the 35th floor.

The view of the city is beautiful. It seems to span forever. There is a dance floor, and a jazz band. I am unsure of where to sit as I gaze around the room at people I do not know. At first, I sit with Lindsey and Quarterback. Then I decided I want to see out the window. Our table isn't conducive to that. I move, the table moves with me. Finally, I move to where Mellissa is sitting. The table where Bride Linz and Ben her fiancee will sit. A huge chandelier hangs overhead. I think about how it could never hang in my loft. Then I think...wait maybe it could. My ceilings are as high as the ceilings in that room. The chandalier would fit. Just not fit the decor.

So maybe I am a little crazy in what I did next. Clearly, immature and out of the ordinary for my etiquette guru self. Maybe I am known enough by these people that I can throw my blessed etiquette aside and live for the humor of the night. Maybe it was the night air, the atmosphere, the fact that I have all but lost it with this engagement. Who knows, perhaps, Love was in the air. I resort to the crocodile hunter.

The centerpieces on the tables came up past my head. I couldn't see the other side. I moved my glass of house wine aside and leaned across the table. Parted the bouquet. Began to detail in my best australian accent Ben's every action. "Slowly, Ben eats his ceasar salad. Lifting the fork up and down to his mouth. If you watch close he will bite the salad. This is an ancient mating ritual of the Ben." The table laughs. In the seriousness of the mood that night. Someone needed to do it. Someone needed to laugh.

Linsey's father spoke, then the family's. Soon the bridesmaids got in on the action, then the groomsmen. Speech after speech went by. As an aspiring litigator, I was compelled to talk. That is what we aspiring litigator types like to do. I didn't have much to say, so I told the truth. Tempered it with humor and love, and sat back at the table.

The food was great. Everyone danced, drank and was marry. (I like that typo) I was actually looking forward to the wedding. Actually, very happy for my friend. I had successfully put myself aside. I wanted Linsey to have a truly beautiful day. I wanted to be a part of it.

DAY 1 of the Best Friends Wedding Trip...

Sun, 25 Sep 2005 15:30:02 GMT

Airport Leaving St. Louis

The weekend all started with airport man. A fairly handsome man who was helping me watch people in the airport. One of those people watchers who was watching me I suppose. He was married. Had some children whom we discussed in between phone calls to his wife and my exboyfriendbestfriendsortaboyfriendthingy.

At first, I successfully avoided the single conversation. The conversation that starts out with something like "So who is this exboyfriendbestfriendsortaboyfriendthingy?" I start to explain, "Oh, it is nothing serious." Which is inevitably interrupted, "How long have you known him?" "Oh, two years." "and you aren't serious?" At this revelation to the stranger who doesn't know, there is an implied tone that 'yes, we are serious, and If not, I am wasting my time with this person.' In reality, I am wasting no time, I am just doing my own thing in life, I am not serious, and he is my friend. No time with a friend is wasted. I do not understand why this is a difficult concept, but, for some reason, it is.

I quickly change the topic to the blog. "Oh, I keep a blog. I am always looking for those interesting things in life to talk about." We begin to discuss general airport phenomenon. Our favorite, the lines. Now, for airlines with assigned seats, this phenom does not exist. For airlines without assigned seats, it is very prevalent. The lines form before the plane has even arrived.

The B group is understandable. They are shooting for the second best seats. They can make their line 4 hours ahead of time if they choose. However, from the way the A group behaves you would think the B group should be having a mud wrestling matches. Inevitably, there is some extreme A type personality that must be the first in line. Although they are in the A boarding group and will receive their choice seat on the plane. They MUST be the first in line.

Slowly, sneakily they creep to the front of the A entrance to the little plane jetway thingy. Then they stand up tall and proud that they have stolen the first seat in line. A worthless success because they are in the A boarding group. Over a period of five minutes the A line develops with a growing sense of mob mentality. Soon there is a whole fleet of A boarding groupers!!! Which makes the B group nervous. They start to get scared that they will not get the second choice seat. And C group just all but gives up.

At about the end of this conversation both Airport Man and I headed to our respective place in the A group line. Somewhere near the end, but without fear. We boarded the plane. Had a nice discussion into OKC in order to pass the time. Waved goodbye and found our families.

Meeting my Fan Club...again...

I love going home. I love to get off the plane to my biggest little fan club of two or four. All of whom yell, "Honey! Over here!" or if my brother is around "Buttnugget, we're over here." My mother runs through the crowd leaping toward me, stops short of a tackle, and slathers me with a big hug. My father usually brings up the rear of big huggers and grabs whatever bag I have slung over my shoulder and preceeds to the baggage claim.

At the baggage claim, both dad and I watch anticipating which suitcase(s) is/are mine. We see one that looks like it, reach for it...NO! not it. We try again. It is like a little silent game. Both of us vying to be the one who gets the suitcase first. Finally, it comes by. We grab it and make a dash for the car. Mom lags a little behind carrying whatever bag I carried onto the plane.

We hop in the car and speed away from the airport. Sometime before we hit the interstate or shortly thereafter, there is some kind of a short spat between my parents about whoever is driving and how they aren't doing it correctly. Then we are off to home.

At home my bedroom that hasn't really been my bedroom in 7 years awaits for its princess to return. I plop my bags onto the little stool at the end of the new bed. My mom has redecorated in my favorite color of the year: Red. Not an intentionally favorite color use I assume. It definitely has mom touches! The pictures on the wall from my high school days are almost like a little altar. I expect candles and a kneeler. Mom's clothes overflow my old closet, and the whole house smells like that oh so familiar scent of mom and dad. A part of me is 6 again, another is 12, and another is 24 reminding me I am 24.

I bounce about the house saying goodnight to my parents, and drift into horrible nightmares of weddings.