Tag Archives: wedding

I Want to Have a Wedding but I Don’t Want to Get Married

You get to eat gobloads of dessert.

Roughly 11 days, six hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty three seconds ago, my sister was wed to the love of her life in an outdoor ceremony somewhere in the Oklahoman woods. Afterwards, the wedding guests successfully dined and danced, with minimal injuries and no deaths.

All in all, it was a wedding that will be hard for us siblings to beat in the future. Because like most things in life, this is a competition. You may have laid down the gauntlet, sister, but I’m hot on your trail.

I was standing about a foot to the left of the bride and groom during the ceremony, my bouquet at belly button level, my eyes trained on the happy husby and wifey to be, my heart pounding in time with theirs. From my front row position, it was such a joy to watch the happiness creep into the pits of the audience and dot their foreheads with glisten. When the kiss came, we cheered our well-wishings and rushed away as fast as possible, seeking out pockets of moving air and shade.

The eating of BBQ and various desserts was followed by two speeches (one given by me) and the breaking out of various grooves as the sun set behind the capital building and glow sticks illumined the night air, old fogeys watching from their tables in disbelief as the hip young things made fools of themselves.

Soon it was time to send the couple off. At the height of the gyration-induced ecstasy, a whisper went through the crowd that it was time to gather, and bring the glow sticks. We lined the pathway to the getaway car—a golden buick, a chariot most fitting– and we flapped and woo-ed and shouted them into the car and watched them drive away.

That’s when clean up began. The lights came on, food went into boxes, pre-trash became real trash, bottles were collected, and the magic was systematically stored and re-located to vehicles.

At that moment, something very important occurred to me. I realized that, if done correctly, my wedding day will be the best party of my life. It has all the elements of an incredible event from the outset: copious amounts of gifts, friends (and family) from all over the country, tasty treats, everyone’s favorite songs, and a reason to dance.

But in addition to all that, there are tons of bridal benefits that are simply not found in other parties.

The bride gets told she’s beautiful all day long. She could be wearing a sailboat covered snuggie and eating peanut butter with her hands straight out of a jar and people would still constantly swoon over her. Brides also are the guilt-free center of attention for the entire day, which is pretty much my dream come true.

I’ve also found that guests at weddings are unlike guests at other events. They’re more likely to be optimistic about everyone’s future and say what sound like meaningful things. The word love is thrown around more than a roll of toilet paper on a diarrhea-fraught camping trip. But, most importantly, the bride does not have to help clean up. In the middle of her dancing euphoria, she gets to leave with her lover while everyone else has to stay behind and put on rubber gloves.

If this isn’t the perfect party, I don’t know what is.

So the production of my sister’s wedding ended with me marveling at the bliss of her love and wondering how I could have a wedding without getting married. Any and all suggestions are accepted, as well as gifts and other tokens of appreciation/attention.

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Dear Blog, I’ll Always Love You

Faces blurred to protect identity. Photo credit: Jen Dillender

Hey blog,

How’s it going? Did you hear my sister finally got married?! The wedding was stereotypically beautiful and all that crap. I should have stolen her wedding presents while I had the chance. Now I’m going to Colorado and then San Francisco and who knows when I’ll be back to use her new ice cream maker and name-brand kitchen ware.

I got blood on my bridesmaid dress. I’m pretty sure it was my own. It’s okay because I sucked it out—turns out saliva works pretty well on fresh blood stains. I’ll tell you how it happened later.

My stress-ear cleaning needs to stop. I gave myself another ear infection, but this time it’s on the other side. I sure hope these pills I found help. Do you crave human blood too?

Sorry I haven’t had time for you lately and won’t be around for the next week. It’s not because I don’t love you. I really do, but you see, sometimes I have to go places and hang out with family and be outdoors. You know I’d rather be spending that time with you in a cave, but other people just don’t understand me the way you do.

I’ll always be yours, and you”ll always be mine.

Love,

Emily

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All I Want From My Sister’s Wedding is a New Prof Pic

My current photo….it’s been up for a year already. Time for a change.

As my sister’s wedding day approaches, preparations have ramped into full gear. Emotions are bubbling under the surface, as evidenced by my family’s facial complexions, and stress levels are ready to burst all pipes and frustrate every coping method.

I’ve also become increasingly aware that my Facebook profile picture is a little outdated. I loved the photo when I chose it about a year ago to be the face I reveal to my e-friends, but my biological facebook profile picture clock has been nagging me of late. Though I hate to say it, I believe it’s time to relegate that image to the the noble gallery of old profile pictures and choose a new one for the entire world to see and admire.

That’s why I’m looking forward to my sister’s wedding. I have a feeling that it will provide many, many opportunities for me to harvest a new profile picture, and with a professional photographer no less. I’m already devising strategies of how I can photo-bomb and otherwise dominate most of the pictures at the ceremony and reception, not to mention the photo shoot itself.

Should I bring my rubber chicken? Should I black out one of my teeth? Should I dye my hair a quirky color? Should I refuse to smile and thus garner the attention of the entire wedding party as they say in unison, “Emily! STOP IT!”

The options are truly endless.

And I’m just grateful to have a sister that’s getting married and providing not just me, but her entire family with the opportunity to spruce up their facebook timelines with tons of new pictures, both profile and non.

Let the tagging begin!

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I’m Trying Not to Ruin the Wedding

Must get to successful toast. This is the goal.

My triplet sister’s wedding is in t-8 days and as the co-maid of honor, I will be speeching. Lord help us all.

In everyday interactions, most people expect very little from me. When I make any kind of joke, they are happy and will give me a laugh. But an audience has expectations. They expect me to be funny, charming, sincere, knowledgeable, sleepy, etc, and they demand their chuckle treats. This and any kind of expectation makes my nerve levels skyrocket.

When I have prepared and practiced for the engagement, it’s possible for everything to go smoothly. When I’m not prepared, however, and when the quotient between the audience’s expectations and my ability to perform is especially high, we’re diving head-on into the danger zone.

I often find myself fighting the temptation to stop speaking and let the entire room sink into silence. How long would they just sit there and watch me as I watch them? How long before someone spoke up and tried to make it all end?

As a sober, well-rested, and unstressed individual, my verbal filter already does a spotty job. When I’m nervous, it’s completely gone. I’ll say anything, literally anything, in order to combat the silence and fill the ever-approaching quiet.

For that reason, having me speak at a wedding is a risky decision. It’s such a special and heartwarming moment and one that’s the result of much planning and travel by many parties, that I will invariable do something to creatively offset the mood with what will be later be viewed as “inappropriate” humor.

In order to protect the wedding from myself, I’m reinforcing my filter by making a list of a few subjects that I will not, not under any circumstance, speak on or mention in order to keep the silence at bay.

I will not make any pregnancy jokes.

I will not make any jokes about or mention previous boyfriends and how we were SO surprised when sister and her fiancée got together (note: this isn’t entirely true, but it’s exactly the kind of thing I’m prone to say).

I will not bring up family squabbles or secret shames.

I will not discuss my personal sweating with anyone besides my immediate family.

I will not talk for longer than twenty (20) seconds about the wedding night in the company of grandma.

I will not mention people I think dressed poorly.

I will not make jokes about myself, other members of the wedding party, or the preacher being drunk or on drugs.

I will only make two (2) weight-related jokes about sister having to fit in her dress.

I will not complain about having to be at the wedding, how I’m bored, or how it could have been better.

I will not stray from the content of my written-out speech, unless there’s a really funny joke I can make.

These are my promises to myself and to my sister. Let’s hope for everyone’s sake that I remember this while I’m on stage fighting the silence. May I reach for my speech and not for the sex jokes.

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Guess Who Has 2 Thumbs, a High Platelet Count, and Doesn’t Get Carsick from Reading Anymore

Bachelorette Party was held in surprise location. Sister was thrown under a blanket.

Well, I’m home (points for those who recognized this as a LOTR reference. Negative points for those who don’t know what LOTR stands for–please get a life) and there’s good news and bad news. The good news is that I can now read in the car without vomiting and the bad news is that no one noticed my haircut. I literally had to point it out to everyone before they would even compliment me. On the bright side, because of my reading-in-the-car-abilities, I laughed my way through Bossypants (by Tina Fey) and didn’t think about ralphing even once.

I just arrived back in OKC from five days with people who elongate their o’s just slightly, are too polite to comment on the fact I wore the same dress two days in a row, and say things like, “I just love her!” to my sisters seconds after meeting me. Some of them said slightly culturally inappropriate things like, “Oh! Your cowgirl boots and dress are so cute! It’s so different from the way we dress up here!” or “It was just so nice to meet you people!” And then I wondered if maybe in Chicagoland the phrases “you people” and “different” have positive connotations, because in Boston I learned that those terms tend to define what we call “the other.”

At any rate, the attendees at both the bachelorette party and bridal shower were sweet, down-to-earth Midwesterners who bequeathed my sister with a mountain of gifts that any thief would be lucky to steal. Though many of the women at her bridal shower were complete strangers to my sister, they were all extremely kind and watched with great attention and wonderful oooo’s as the bride-to-be tore an entire forest of wrapping paper off of her presents, revealing all kinds of variations on kitchenware, home decorations, and headlamps.

The bachelorette party was particularly fun, if tame by societal standards. One of the raunchiest highlights was when we played “pin the kiss on the hunk” and someone (gasp!) didn’t aim for the mouth. Can you even do that? The bridal shower was equally tame, though well catered, and held in a home that prioritized the use of the words “faith, love, and hope” in its decoration. There was, however, a question about how many kids the husband wanted to have that caused some minor blushing. Apparently he wants a baker’s dozen, but it’s okay because babies are brought to the chimney by a monster that lives in neighborhood ponds.

Through this experience, I learned that there some things associated with my co-maid of honor position that I am not good at. One of them is wearing above-the-knee-dresses. Another is decorating anything. However, with a crockpot and a recipe in my hands, I become Martha Stewart herself, minus the prison sentence. The same goes with a telephone and a list of strangers to call. These are my fortes, in addition to having a high platelet count, and I look forward to implementing them in the coming 3.5 weeks of wedding preparation.

Coming up this week: a review of my year in Cairo, my one-year blog anniversary, and a job-finding celebration (hopefully.)

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