A weeks worth

First of all I’d like to tell EVERYONE. A week of craziness can be avoided by NOT having a 4 day 2 city wedding event.

We came into town 2 days early to make sure everything was smooth. Not that we exactly had control of anything but since the cell phones wouldn’t stop ringing, it was just easier. Thank God for Ramrod (my BFF and matron of honor). We hid out at her parent’s house for the first day swimming in the pool and relating already passed crazy stories. R being unemployed, his stepmother needing many, many questions answers tho’ the answers were not important enough to use. My mother feeling left out but helpless when given a task, changing arrangements made for my dog, and worrying my sister (sewing my dress) and me about what SHE was to wear*. But everything was coming together. I had found shoes and covered the hideous decoration on them with bows I made from fabric and lace scraps from my eventual dress. Ramrod put on her wedding dress (4 years and she can still zip it all the way up… till her bosom VaVoom!) and played with my hair still intent on convincing me I needed to borrow her tiara. And at the end of the night (2am) R and I were upgraded from our usual air mattress in the basement to the twin beds in an upstairs bedroom. WOW!
The next morning Ramrod and I had to go to “wal-marts” We needed curlers for the 3 feet of my hair she would have to roll up. I HATE shopping. We didn’t find them and the only redeeming moment was when the hideous old bat, wearing what I believe to have been a rabid squirrel on her head, did a double take and turned to stare at Ramrods pink hair. “Can I help you?” the batlike woman and her squirrel both blinked never moving her eyes away “Yeah, what? She’s still here. Pink Hair, not a pink elephant” I shouted at the lady. I wouldn’t really blame her (pink hair on a tall woman wearing a 40’s style dress including crinoline) yes it is an odd thing in the Midwest but a nice oddity, no need to glare. It’s not a squirrel-wear’n dressing-gown-optioned liquid-breakfast batlike oddity (oh, wait that’s not an oddity).
Then on to my house where chores await. Yes people, chores the day before my wedding. Whenever I go to my parents house there are chores, because I don’t live there they do tend to stack up. I was lucky. While I was there R has to deal with his (growing crazier by the moment) step mom. Everything he did was wrong. I joined him there later where I patted her over worked and needing to be martyred hand while she went over every detail of what she had to do, was doing and had to redo behind people. I wisely refused to give my opinion on anything except to tell her how much I appreciated everything, and how amazing she was. She did manage to tell me (for the 50th time) she didn't want to go over to R's mom's house for the rehersal dinner or brunch the morning after... She'd see, but she'd have so much to do and she didn't want to feel uncomfortable. Since R’s mom didn’t really want her there. Never mind the fact that everyone involved invited her. And she wasn’t sure R wanted her there. Our “Campaign against exploding heads” had turned to bite R on the ass. She took it to mean he was afraid “someone” would make a scene, even tho’ we both explained the Campaign against exploding heads was for us as much as anyone and involved the amount of stress people put on themselves. I can see why she might take it that way tho’ since at R’s brothers rehearsal dinner she had accused her husband and his ex of flirting, and dragged him off very early. I warned R and he appealed to her again to come. So anyway off we went to the rehearsal dinner, which did not follow a rehearsal, at R’s mom’s where I relaxed for a few minutes before everyone got there. The dinner was mostly uneventful although step-mom requested a strong drink immediately upon arrival and looked suspicious and nervous when R’s parents, divorced over a decade ago, disappeared to talk. What ever could they have to talk about? Their son would be getting married in the morning.


*WHY oh WHY did everyone keep calling me asking what to wear? I make the exception for my soon to be sister-in-law who wisely asked if the best man should wear (purchase) a suit.

Ugh, I hate recounting stories. I can't tell a story to save my life and invariably bore myself before I've recounted them once.
I think I'll just hit the highlights...