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Adventures in marriage
Jun. 17th, 2002 12:23 pmThe book that I'm reading right now describes luck as flowing from the moon-paths. If that's the case, I must have stepped on the moon's toes recently and royally peeved her. Or something.
My vacation started Saturday night, after a particularly hectic day at work. Sunday was the wedding of a dear friend. Not to worry - all was prepared. Clothes were ready, the gift that I had spent months stitching had been dropped off at the framer's (amid much begging and groveling to get it done in time), directions were printed, and we were set to go. My sweetheart and I were comfortably curled up on my sofa, enjoying dinner and a movie, when he suddenly remembered that he had never picked up the gift from the framers.
Oh. Well. That's a small problem. But we should be able to pick it up Sunday, no?
Sunday morning dawned chilly and cloudy. Not exactly the best weather for the sleeveless dress I was wearing. Not a problem, though. I found a lace sweater that almost looked like it matched, and we headed off to the frame shop.
Closed. Of course. Okay, time to replan. I am the queen of last-minute gifts. I'll bake something.
Damn. Not kosher. Okay. Replan again. I dropped my sweetie off at his house to get dressed, and hightailed it over to CVS, where I flew through the store picking up ingredients for a scrapbook, a trick I've used in the past. Strangers are almost always willing to share comments and thoughts and ideas, and it makes a unique but thoughtful and cheerfully bizarre collection. All set. I asked the cashier if she'd be the first to sign. The response i got from her was one of the most venomous I've ever seen. Undaunted, I turned to the next person I saw, only to be chased away by another venomous glare from the CVS Wicked Cashier Queen.
Okay. Regroup and try again. Home, and there's still enough time to allow myself a minor crying jag before flying about like a maniac. Glitter pens and colored printer paper become an instant card, and I sacrificed myself on the altar of dignity writing a cutesy poem that could be carried by a miniature teddybear I had seen at another store.
Deep breath. All set. Time to finish getting ready. My sweetheart was out of the bathroom, so I set up in there. Comb, hair elastics, all sorts of cosmetic paraphernalia that I usually avoid like the plague. I reached forward to readjust the mirror, and knocked my makeup bag into the toilet.
No more tears left inside me. At this point the day progressed from tragedy to comedy.
Eventually I put myself together, and reached some semblance of ready. My sweetheart unlocked the car door for me. 'We're on the way,' I told myself. 'Nothing more can go wrong.' I climbed into the car, and immediately caught the heel of my shoe on my stockings and ripped a hole in them.
The wedding itself went beautifully, in spite of an impressive thunderstorm. I truly think that my real gift to the happy couple was swallowing their day's worth of bad luck for them. All the same, if just going to someone else's wedding is this hectic, for once in my life I'm glad that my own blessed day is some ways off in the future....
My vacation started Saturday night, after a particularly hectic day at work. Sunday was the wedding of a dear friend. Not to worry - all was prepared. Clothes were ready, the gift that I had spent months stitching had been dropped off at the framer's (amid much begging and groveling to get it done in time), directions were printed, and we were set to go. My sweetheart and I were comfortably curled up on my sofa, enjoying dinner and a movie, when he suddenly remembered that he had never picked up the gift from the framers.
Oh. Well. That's a small problem. But we should be able to pick it up Sunday, no?
Sunday morning dawned chilly and cloudy. Not exactly the best weather for the sleeveless dress I was wearing. Not a problem, though. I found a lace sweater that almost looked like it matched, and we headed off to the frame shop.
Closed. Of course. Okay, time to replan. I am the queen of last-minute gifts. I'll bake something.
Damn. Not kosher. Okay. Replan again. I dropped my sweetie off at his house to get dressed, and hightailed it over to CVS, where I flew through the store picking up ingredients for a scrapbook, a trick I've used in the past. Strangers are almost always willing to share comments and thoughts and ideas, and it makes a unique but thoughtful and cheerfully bizarre collection. All set. I asked the cashier if she'd be the first to sign. The response i got from her was one of the most venomous I've ever seen. Undaunted, I turned to the next person I saw, only to be chased away by another venomous glare from the CVS Wicked Cashier Queen.
Okay. Regroup and try again. Home, and there's still enough time to allow myself a minor crying jag before flying about like a maniac. Glitter pens and colored printer paper become an instant card, and I sacrificed myself on the altar of dignity writing a cutesy poem that could be carried by a miniature teddybear I had seen at another store.
Deep breath. All set. Time to finish getting ready. My sweetheart was out of the bathroom, so I set up in there. Comb, hair elastics, all sorts of cosmetic paraphernalia that I usually avoid like the plague. I reached forward to readjust the mirror, and knocked my makeup bag into the toilet.
No more tears left inside me. At this point the day progressed from tragedy to comedy.
Eventually I put myself together, and reached some semblance of ready. My sweetheart unlocked the car door for me. 'We're on the way,' I told myself. 'Nothing more can go wrong.' I climbed into the car, and immediately caught the heel of my shoe on my stockings and ripped a hole in them.
The wedding itself went beautifully, in spite of an impressive thunderstorm. I truly think that my real gift to the happy couple was swallowing their day's worth of bad luck for them. All the same, if just going to someone else's wedding is this hectic, for once in my life I'm glad that my own blessed day is some ways off in the future....
