One of my b/f's sisters is getting married in May. She has know the groom for less time than the b/f and I have been dating. Am I bitter? Maybe a little, but I really am happy for her.
Living over 2 hours from the happy couple and the impending nuptials means there hasn't been much for us to do to help. Usually, we just provide a place to stay when the bride is in the area working on wedding details with the other sister.
I have been asked to work the cake table. I am excited. I am finally in a wedding. And for a first time wedding, I am grateful to be serving in a position relegated to extended family. I'd be completely useless for anything else and this is nice and low pressure.
Or so I thought.
I had everything all planned. Since I'm still rebuilding my wardrobe, I was going to buy a nice pair of slacks and a dressier blouse/shirt that could be worn again for work. I could just blend in at the cake table. No one notices a fat girl at a cake table. It's like ducks on a lake. We are part of the scenery. I did think it was odd that she reminded me of the wedding colors (maroon and silver) when she asked me.
She stayed with us (actually me, the b/f was out-of-town on business) Sunday night. She asked me if I had found a dress for the wedding yet. (I'm not even thinking a dress. Skirt, maybe.) I share my plan, and she reminds to remember the colors so I won't "clash in the photos." To give you my honest reaction, I'm going to do something I avoid in this blog, but it's okay. Here is a brief summary of my immediate thoughts.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!!!!!!! We are going to be in wedding photos. We have to dress up to be in photos that are going to end up in the wedding album. Shit! Shit! Shit! I'm going to have to look really good. When the hell did the fucking cake server end up in the wedding party? Oh wait, it must be the b/f. I'm going to be in the big family photo because I've been the g/f for over 3 years. Shit, we have to get him a suit. No more stalling on his part. Argggghhh!"
I'm convinced that I kept a great poker face, but the moment she left to take care of wedding errands, I was on the phone to my mom and then the b/f in a panic. I started searching online for maroon clothing. 'Tis not the season for maroon. Go figure, it's all these light pretty colors for spring.
Bring on the second round of expletives.
I have made my peace. The current plan is for light/med gray slacks. I really cute dressy cami or shell covered with a dark red shawl/wrap/shrug. The cami and slacks will be easy, and if I can't find a shawl/wrap/shrug that I like, it will be easy enough to make one. Plus all can be worn again. It even meets the bride's approval. So Saturday, I rack up more charges on my Visa (it has been a harsh month with the recent purchase of new glasses). Oh crap, I need to get cute strappy dress shoes.
Anyway, crisis averted until my mom starts telling me cake cutting war stories from weddings past.
1 comment:
Have fun. I served cake once and basically got it all over myself! And if it makes you feel any better, I was not in any photos :)
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