Hell Weekend is coming, and there ain't nothing nobody can do about it except kiss their asses goodbye. What am I talking about? WEDDING WEEKEND, foolish mortal. For drama this big, I'm surprised it's not on the front page of the paper (below the fold, but still).
My sister is getting married on Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. Sean's uncle is getting married that Saturday. Lots of family will soon be descending like locusts. It's like all the chaos of our own wedding without the fun of a honeymoon afterward. Actually, it's worse -- there's craziness like a rehearsal dinner for one wedding scheduled at the same time as the reception for the other. And with the baby ... good god. Demands for Harper face time are already running high. I actually had to send out a schedule to the primaries yesterday, to say, "Here is where I will be at this time on this day, here is where Sean and Harper will be ... ." Sean's been working non-stop this month because of some typical-of-there bullshit, so that weekend will be the first time in May he won't be at work. However, I won't see him much; we're having to split up to cover all the events. It should be a happy time, but part of me is dreading it.
I think it might be our fault. We seem to invite wedding drama. Our own wedding took place a month and a half after Sept. 11. (In fact, on that very morning I was picking up wedding tasting cakes in Old Town, and afterwards decided to go see what all the smoke was. In the ensuing hours locked in an abandoned hot car as I totally forgot about them, the cakes melted. I have a very clear memory of Sean not getting home until very late, eating cake goo while in the daze that everyone was in that day.) As journalists, we suddenly had to be at work all the time, not leaving much time for putting a wedding together (we had a short engagement, so there still was a lot to do). The anthrax attacks hit and some of invitations took weeks to arrive. The airport situation here was iffy so Maine friends and relatives now had to plan to drive down. Our boss told us it was too busy for us to take leave for our honeymoon (we threatened to quit, so we got it). And it was just a scary time to think about starting a family. It was insanity, but we had to just deal with it -- a lot of people were suffering, and complaining about a wedding was just rude.
But complaining about Becky's wedding is perfectly acceptable! It is also hell, but it is a hell of her own making. She and Sean (yes, her fiance is also Sean; still copying big sis) have a lot going on this month -- thesis and graduation for him, an in-town move for her, a Philly-to-here move for him -- but they decided what the hell, let's liven it up with a wedding! The gods are punishing them for their naivete. All kinds of extra insanity is currently unfolding: The minister isn't actually ordained. The cat went missing during the move. The dress suddenly isn't fitting. Man, there's quite a list. I would have to giggle if I didn't love her. Actually, I did giggle when I found out that after several days they ended up having to hire a professional trapper to get the cat, but Sean ended up catching the cat, but the trapper was there so they still have to pay him. C'mon, that's funny! If you're not living it, I mean.
She'll get her revenge on me, don't worry. I have to cross the Potomac River about 800 times that weekend for various wedding(s) events, so I no doubt will get stuck in an hour-long traffic jam on the way to the reception. She can laugh at me as I tell her how the baby had volcano poop and a tire went flat and the cell phone battery died and it was then that I realized that I forgot my grandmother- and mother-in-law at the church. Because that's how it goes on Hell Weekend!
I'm giggling even as I hope everything goes well and the wedding is beautiful.
Posted by: Little Light | May 21, 2008 at 05:57 PM