But first, the cool LJ things I'm catching up on, since my wedding commentary will be boring, involving as it does small lizards that bite, being chased by gekkos, our determination that come hell or high water, these people *were* getting legal, and a sudden torrent of rain.
josselin posted He Hasn't Fucked Me, because we bore easily and make our own fun. Joss did a great job in putting all the pieces we did on AIM together and I likes. *happy* And sorry, sweetie, for not being online last night. I wasn't home until after three
Shall check for emrinalexander next, to get my Josiah fix.
Adventures in Marriage
You want to know about the biting lizard incident, don't you?
My sister's nervous breakdown didn't occur until about an hour before the wedding. This was well after The Groom cut himself on his razor and got blood on his shirt, after we'd given up efforts to find something to clean it, and around the time me and The Groom's Sister tried to decide if this was some kind of really creative suicide attempt. I suggested white-out and was ignored. I am really unappreciated in my time.
I amuse myself in a thousand ways when my shoes hurt. Little silvery strappy things. And The Dress got on, though no freaking *way* a bra would fit under it. That was pretty much my trauma for the night.
Anyway, let's skip to the fun stuff.
After getting everyone into some kind of formal clothing, my son and my nephew-in-law locked onto the couch wiht numerous threats of don't move, we checked the weather, since, amazingly, forecasts of rain today. I swear, I saw this coming. I mean, in ways unrelated to the weather reports.
Thunder one hit, and the gathering glanced up warily. Yes, we kind of saw this coming. So we rushed everyone out into position and hoped for the best.
My aunt was in charge of music. That went--oddly. The Best Man and I tried to keep straight faces while mumbling "left, pause, right, pause, left, pause, right pause" since it was Vital to the Music to keep in beat and not move too fast. He got off step, I stuck my foot under his ankle, and it could have been by accident, even.
Thunder. We looked up and went hmmm. This could be a sign.
Sister, being equal to any and all weird occasions, got my dad into gear, picked up her skirts, and marched across wet grass and got everything going. She wore prettily decorated flip-flops, since chica is practical and weddings outdoors are notorious for bad ground. I have never, ever have had to laugh and not been able to. Somewhere on numerous rolls of film are pictures of me turning very red. I love her. God, do I love her.
More thunder. The minister glanced up, then looked at me.
Him: "I can do a Reader's Digest version of the ceremony."
Me: "Can we just say 'I do' and then run for it?"
It was pretty much okay until the second the bride and groom got up to their respective positions, all the small children started finding the gekkos wandering around the backyard, and a lot of the crowd started watching the sky with foreboding. One great crash of lightning later, and boom, rain.
My sister shrugged and tossed her little veiled head, giving the sky a challenging look. I was wondering if this was going to be one of those stories that ended up 'and then we got struck by lightning', but you know, I live for adventure. So does she, apparently. "Let's get on with it."
So we did.
You could kind of tell who had an emotional investment in getting them right in the eyes of God and man and all that. Lesser people fled for safety beneath the carport and inside to watch through windows. The minister, my great-uncle, coolly checked out his notebook, wiped off some water that got in the way, and started the ceremony. My immediate family, grandparents, The Groom's immediate family, the bridesmaids, and the groomsmen, stood firm and proud in the face of weather, because let's face it, we were all wearing things we would never wear again and Vannezsa did make-up for me and Sister and nothing short of some serious cleaning supplies was going to smudge it. Trust me, I've tried. Grandmother and My Mother grimly held their places on the front row in an example of solidarity, because damned if this wasn't happening after all the angst. You could kind of see it in their eyes. If someone had faltered, we probably would have been shot trying to get away. Others took their inspiration from them, sitting straight and tall while rain fell from the trees above and got them very, very wet. I think Mom and Mimi scared them badly. My grandfather ran around with the dig video camera, getting lots of shots without a care to weather, as he is a professional and nothing, and I mean nothing, gets in his way.
Anyway, umbrellas were procured for the bride and groom, and Vannezsa sprained her ankle making a run for her car to get us another one. Which I only found out later, and that was funny as hell, and I kind of wish I'd known during the ceremony, but she limped over with the umbrella and handed it over to someone, so those of us in the immediate bridal party were mostly dry. I kept a death lock on Child, since he saw the lizards running through the yard and got all excited, and the Best Man held down Groom's Son, who was equally entranced. So we didn't get bored. Groom's Daughter, herefore referred to as Niece, picked up the rose petals and threw them randomly around to entertain herself. My Niece dashed off to do something behind us that I couldn't see. I was having a blast.
There was this second, though. Hmm.
I've been to more weddings that I can count--I have a really large extended family. I've been bridesmaid in one other one, so I've been close to the ceremony and it wasn't just proximity. But. Just this second. When my sister's voice choked up, and Groom looked very serious, which I've never seen before, and her hands were shaking and he was rubbing her fingers while they said their vows. It changed things, when I didn't think it changed much at all, at least when my sister announced it. She went into this pretty coolly--they've been together for years and have a child together, so nothing really new was going to come out of this other than new and complex ways to do their taxes. But it's--like. God I have no idea how to put a feeling into words. A heavy feeling, like even though the words were new, the meaning behind it was older than we were. That everything we did yesterday was symbolic, but that moment was absolutely real. I mean, I know the history of marriage in general, and I've seen so many, but it's the first time I felt what it meant beyond commitment-scary-dress-food-fun-trauma. It was sacred, and it was holy, and it was perfect.
I'm being so silly. I must still be buzzing. Geez.
The rain stopped when the vows ended, with much in the way of symbolism *there*, and then we were free to eat and discuss, which everyone did. Child and Groom's Son, hereby to be referred to as Nephew, went chasing gekkos and one caught Nephew and would *not* let go, much to the hilarity of all witnesses. I wish I'd seen it, but there was trauma afterward that I heard about, and much in the way of catching the little suckers and putting them in boxes. The sympathetic among us freed them. Cousin kept calling me by my sister's name, which was annoying, and Brother-in-Law's stepbrother's girlfriend was amazingly rude to every unattached woman who went within a mile of him. I'm pretty sure she thought I was hitting on him, but I wasn't, I was imitating a Miata for Vannezsa that I wanted to buy and he showed up when I was doing a dime-turn on my heel to demonstrate how cool it was and almost ran into him and his son. He's freaking *nineteen*. I mean, cute, but also, *nineteen*. His mother would kill me. *sighs* I would be very disappointed in myself. Maybe.
Vannezsa bonded with my mom's best friend in a disturbing development and we talked about those female mice that they managed to meld their eggs together and have healthy offspring, and God, don't ask me how they got on that subject. I offered to do a budget for anyone interested in getting foodstamps, since I could tell them if they qualified like, right now, just give me your income and some paper. The sad part was, this was an alcohol free affair, so I can't even blame it on the punch. I bounced a lot, and I'm not sure where that came from either. And my hair frizzed. You know, me in essence. Kind of sad. I'm sure Sister enjoyed herself immensely watching me stumble around the food table cutting up the sandwich rings and talking wildly to anyone in range, since I have the social skills of a hermit never exposed to humanity and sometimes just *say* things. Like say, female mice things. Everyone asked when I was finishing my degree, and I blinked wildly and tried to think, because I always forget, these people have *watched* me since I was born and for some insane reason, no matter how much I screw up, expect me to succeed in the end. It's bizarre.
Is it just me that's a minimal hugger? I think I was supposed to go around hugging people, and that freaked me out. One, I don't know *who* it is appropriate to hug (you think I was going to go anywhere near Groom's Stepbrother? Pah) and second, I'm touchy feely with very immediate family, Very Very Very Very Close Friends, sometimes people I date, when I'm drinking heavily, and my pets only. But there were orgies of hugging going around, and that was getting on my nerves badly. I so suck at social situations. God, do I suck. But I entertain people, so I suppose that's enough. I also made a mess of cutting the cake and kept falling over the trailing purple gauze top layer of my dress, which my grandmother, who loves me, altered so I wouldn't die half-way through the ceremony of suffocation or tear it in a fit of breathing normally. Sister enjoyed herself immensely, everyone got fed, and everyone survived.
We had punch angest, as we couldn't find the frozen punch ring once, and coffee angst, as only one person knew how to operate the coffee percolator, which was probably the High Trauma of the day. I started going into withdrawal just knowing there was coffee I could not drink. But some wise soul figured it out. Whoever you are, you are blessed. Sister put her foot down about throwing the bouquet, so I stole it from her and threw it in the air and caught it quickly in secret, so dammit, it's mine, no matter what she says. So there.
I have never enjoyed a wedding more in my life.
My mother and grandmother made me promise, however, that should I so lose my mind as to get married, I'll do it in Vegas, in secret, and not tell anyone until it's over. I promised that I would take pictures of the Elvis Impersonator who would perform the ceremony. So everyone wins.
Sometimes, I really love my family.