So Very Dark

…THE WEDDING….  (insert ominous music here)

The day after my arrival in the Golden State dawned bright and early…ish…at 9:30 am or so.  I quickly prepared tea, showered, got dressed and got all my belongings re-packed in my travel bag (in some order or other), as Shawnie was planning to pick me up at about 11am, after which I would not be returning to my mom’s house until after the wedding on Saturday.

The experience did not, all in all, start badly.  Shawnie and I caught up as she drove us over to her house so she could finish embroidering a few napkins for the event (by machine, I thankfully discovered).  Time passed a little slowly while napkins were embellished, but we chatted about life and pets and the wedding and dresses, and watched music videos online.  Then we got the car packed up and began the lovely drive to Sonoma (for non CA locals — about a half-hour trip).  We chatted more about the wedding and I mentioned how impressed I was with her level-headedness regarding headaches and bumps in the road, and shared amusement with her at the fact that her MoH was being more of a crazy bridezilla in the situation than she was.  We stopped at the dollar store to pick up some last minute items, like wrapping paper and gift bags for a few wedding party gifts, and goofed and chatted while we wandered the aisles.

Then we returned to the car, drove up the hill and arrived at the truly lovely home where I would be spending the next day and a half.

Shawnie immediately relaxed in her element and started doing stuff — getting stuff put away, asking various people about the state of certain preparations — and I found myself wandering after her like a lost puppy asking where to put my stuff, whether there was anything I could do to help, could I please go home now because I was having a dark dark vision of my future…okay, maybe I didn’t say that last one out loud, but the vile premonition was burbling inside me regardless.

Already feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the unknown shiny, healthy yuppies around me, so efficiently making preparations and scooting me out of the way any time I thought i had found an unbusy corner to stand in, I inquired after and was grudgingly granted an area in which to indulge my filthy smoking habit, so long as I didn’t flick my ashes and butts into the dry grass…even if I HADN’T grown up in California, I might have figured that one out on my own.  After scuttling off, Gollum-like, to a far corner of the pool patio with my purse and my fantasy novel, I took a few deep breaths and tried to tell myself that I really could talk to these people without my head exploding and I was NOT going to cry.  Of course, right about then, the groom and his men showed up and began bringing alcohol down to the pool area.  I tried to remain unobtrusive, but apparently black pants, shoes, hoodie and hair somehow failed to camouflage me against the pale grey rocks of the pool patio, and Brennian, the man of the hour came over to drop a few distracted words of welcome and a warning that my smoking was frowned upon.

The weekend didn’t really improve from there.

I was dragged to meet a hairdresser who agreed to come to the house and do all our hair the next morning for a flat fee which Shawnie proclaimed that we could break into equal pieces and each pay a part of, forcing me to cringingly confront her in private and explain yet again that I had come to town absolutely broke.

The entire wedding party looked a bit like they belonged in the pages of an Ambercombie or American Eagle catalog…all they needed was a game of touch football or a bonfire…and for me to stay out of the shots.

Until the last brides’ maid arrived around 6:30, I was pretty sure that I would be the only girl in the wedding party wearing a dress above a size 4.  Had that been the case, I can’t promise I wouldn’t have strangled Shawnie in her sleep.

I woke up the morning of the wedding with a truly lovely cold — congested sinuses and a mother of a headache…but couldn’t stay in bed an watch TV or even really mention I was sick because there was way too much to do.

But MOSTLY…everyone there was pretty much already friends.  They know each other and have inside jokes and I was a giant outsider all weekend.  Not an awesome way to feel.

Now, it wasn’t like everyone there was a huge jerk or anything…I mean, sure, I think that a couple of the other brides’ maids were just…well, would never get me.  And I didn’t get to know all of the grooms’ men, so maybe some of them were huge a-holes.  BUT…people were very nice…I was just terrified of them.  So my discomfort was only increased by the knowledge that they probably thought I was an aloof snob that thought I was too good to talk to them or something.

And not EVERYTHING was bad, either.  I love Brennian’s mom and step mom.  They are wonderful.  On Friday night, after the boys went to the hotel and a couple of the brides’ maids who weren’t staying at the house that night took off, I ventured upstairs and got drafted to help prepare food for the next day’s breakfast and lunch…it was good to be doing something and kind of fun.  After that I ended up chatting with the other brides’ maid that was staying the night.  Though a skinny, pretty,  little thing, she was also geeky, glasses-wearing and has a great love of fantasy novels, and she, Shawnie and I hung out and talked for a little while before going to sleep.

And the wedding was, quite honestly, beautiful.  Extravagant, and a butt-load of time and money to spend on a few hours of an event, but very beautiful.  Shawnie looked like a princess, the ceremony was lovely and the time of day was perfect.

However, I learned that the wedding party doesn’t really get to do jack at a wedding.

Eventually we were allowed out of seclusion to head down to the reception, and I was seated next to probably the best person I could have from the wedding party — Steve is an old roommate of a couple of my friends and an ex boyfriend of another friend and doesn’t get me but still likes me okay.  The food was decent (catered from a local deli), but I was tired, cold, emotionally spent and stuck there until my mom and the friends she came up with were ready to leave.  After dinner, toasts and the official dances, I ran off to get my hoodie, then wandered back and forth between the reception and the house for a little while before I finally did what I should have done in the first place — made myself a cup of tea, grabbed my book, a blanket and an oatmeal cookie and curled up in a chair on the patio and enjoyed myself for the first time that evening.  Unfortunately, just as my tea was cool enough to drink, mom let me know that we were leaving.

However, when we got home, there was chicken soup waiting for me.  I dumped my dress on the floor, changed into pjs and curled up under blankets on the couch and had chicken soup and watched random TV and then passed out like a rock.  And that was better.

Next, our stunning conclusion!