For the holiday, my friend CG and I took a trip to Massachusetts for our friend Brian’s wedding. I forgot to take my camera to the actual wedding, of course, but here is a photo from their website that accurately portrays the ceremony:
It was a wonderful, beautiful, sweet, and funny ceremony. Not intentionally funny, but funny in the way that reality sometimes is. The bride fumbled her words, and said “breast” rather than “best.” The minister muttered under her breath thing like, “Oh, this wind!” and “Okay, hang on a sec guys, bear with me, okay, we’re good,” entirely unaware that the microphone was picking it all up. The smallest of the three flower girls dropped all of her petals in a pile, and proceeded to pick through them choosing her favorites and placing them back in the basket. And in a witty moment of intentional humor, they called their ring bearer “Lord of the Rings,” which I thought was simply adorable. The weather was perfect, the setting idyllic, and the vows were moving. I’m sure Becky and Brian will be happy together for a long time, and their wedding was every bit as unique and wonderful as they are.
Before we even left the hotel for the wedding, my social anxiety was flaring. I was nervous, sweaty, and a bit shaky. We boarded the trolley took the first seat. On the ride, the woman behind me stroked my head and said, “Oh, what beautiful hair you have!” Score! I’m the sort of person who thrives on compliments, and I felt some of my anxiety fade.
When we reached our destination, I stood and confidently began my descent down the steps. Then my shoe got caught on the small lip of the first step. My knees buckled, as they are prone to do, and I went down. I skidded down the steps on my shins, toboggan style, and came to a halt on the pavement. My knee skin acted as brake pads.
As fast as I went down, I stood back up, loudly proclaiming, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m really fine. I’m fine.” CG and I scurried down the path to the gazebo, took the farthest seat away from what had just happened, and promptly burst into hysterics. I was mortified, I had scraped knees like a child, but at least no one there knew me. The hair compliment mattered not, my pride was wounded beyond repair.
The reception was elegant, the food was better than most catered events, and I learned that when properly prepared I do indeed like green beans. Instead of table numbers, they used names of famous composers for the grooms side and influential psychologists for the brides side. We’re not really the social type, so with my huge embarrassment and scraped knees we decided to leave on the first trolley back to the hotel. We shared it solely with a 90+ year old couple who probably would have left 2 hours earlier had there been a trolley available.
We got to sleep at a decent hour, and on the road nice and early Monday morning. The trip back was full of stops, both planned and unplanned. Stay tuned for pics of all the weird shit we saw!