We got to the wedding fifteen minutes early. As in, at exactly the time one ought to arrive at a wedding. So, needless to say, the rest of my family was not there... In the end, it was a small showing though. I think it was just right for Writer Guy trying to get a handle on my family... smallish group of the most normal of us.
The bride looked perfect. Seriously. She looked like some collector's edition Bridal Barbie that should cost a million dollars and never be played with, come to life. She has immaculate taste though so I wasn't the least bit suprised. Her dress was just beautiful and her hair and make-up and everything was absolutely perfect. It was like she couldn't be real. A level of 'perfect' that it doesn't seem like anyone could ever acheive. Right there, walking down the aisle. Absolutely timeless, classic, perfection. She and that dress would have met the American ideal of perfection and beauty in any era.
The mass was performed by the priest who chaperoned my trip to Europe in high school. This was Writer Guy's virgin mass. I warned him that it would take more than an hour, but I don't think he was quite prepared for the length and relative oddness of it all. He and my (Protestant) aunt managed to find time to giggle and snark during mass though, so I think it was okay.
The reception was nice. It was Mom and her fiance and two of my cousins and their spouses (both wives pregnant) and one aunt and Writer Guy and me at our table. It was fun. I danced a little, but I was sober in three inch heels, so not too much. Spent some time watching my twin cousins enjoy the drunken ruckus of their step-sister getting married. I got a little teary during the father/daughter dance when she danced with my uncle. We snuck upstairs to smoke and I got to catch up with one of my favorite almost-cousins. It was a pretty good time. Very quiet. Remarkably quiet.
Mom went over to talk to the priest at one point, and then he came over and chatted with me about the trip. He actually apologized for yelling at me more than seven years ago. They're planning another one and looking for "young adult chaperones". He actually suggested that I enlist. I'm not so sure about that one. I think I smoke waaaay too much to bike through Europe. Although I do love teenagers and the idea of chaperoning 14-17 year old kids in Europe is sort-of inviting.
We came home and got changed and then went out to dinner. While we were home, I poured myself a glass from a bottle of cranberry juice cocktail. Except really, it was a bottle of Cosmopolitans. Mom got a real kick out of me taking a big drink of my 'juice' and yelling "there's alcohol in my cranberry juice!"... I had two before we went out....
It was a really neat, fun place downtown that Mom took us to. My mom is so much fun when she likes me. We came home and no cousins had called, so we had some more cosmopolitans and got fairly drunk and played Scrabble. It was a lot more fun that that might sound. I won, but that was a fluke, and no one was trying too hard.
This morning we had breakfast with Mom and her fiance and then we were headed back to Lexington. Instead we went and visited my father. Hadn't seen him since Christmas 2001. He's fine. He's making real progress on his house. And then we were back to Lexington.
Writer Guy apparently had fun and didn't feel he had wasted a weekend and doesn't hate me by association. And I had fun. I think Mom really liked Writer Guy. Brought two more coats home with me from Mom's and a check for car insurance and a promise of chairs from Dad. I would say it was a raging success.
