D-Minus Six and Counting...
The true joy of a wedding however isn't the actual wedding, but rather is in the plethora of bizarre social functions that precede it. So, it isn't so much that the wedding will happen in six days and then be over, it's that is starts slowly and gradually, days in advance, and builds to a crescendo of family dysfunction. A bit like what would happen if each car in the 5:30 Express from Dayton was heavier than the last, increasing in weight from a few pounds to a few tons, gradually crushing the life out of your helpless, bound form. Yay.
So, for those who are curious, as well as those who intend to watch with some sort of sick, twisted, glee (I'm feeling the love here, Brayden) here's the schedule for this week:
Monday: The calm before the storm. No significant wedding-related activity today. However, in order to make sure that I don't enjoy myself or get any work done, I have been conveniently scheduled for a visit to the dentist. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Tuesday: Meeting with the florist, who brings new meaning to the term, "Cracker." I have been advised that I will be needed at this meeting, although I cannot begin to speculate as to why. I know about as much about flowers as fish do about bicycles. My mother's sister and her husband will be arriving on this day along with, and I'm totally serious here, their poodle. They have a fucking poodle. You know, the dogs that look like lace doilies made flesh? In the evening I will be cooking lentil soup and pita bread for dinner, about which my Aunt is sure to complain. Fortunately I should have the sweet tones of my mother and Aunt indulging in sibling rivalry to distract me.
Wednesday: My sister and her fiancee arrive from Tallahassee. They will be bringing their dog, a large German Shorthair-pointer mix named Lucy. With luck, Lucy will mistake my Aunt's poodle for a chew toy and do her canine duty. More likely we'll just have hairy, drooling mammals chasing each other around the house... and I'd rather that not start up until my Dad's brothers arrive. Final arrangements with the caterer will be made today. Given current weather projections, I expect to find my mother on the back lawn with the entrails of a goat performing some sort of lack-of-rain dance.
Thursday: My father's brothers and their wives arrive. Let the dominance games begin! By this point my sister will likely be going slightly insane from the combined presence of my mother and Aunt. As the bride's brother, it will be my job to distract them from my sister. Right now, I'm thinking there's a conveniently placed vase in the living room that would shatter nicely. I'm so accident prone. My sister's friend Danielle arrives today. Unless she forgets, which is a real possibility. No word on whether she will be bringing all four of her dogs, which range from "Old, smelly, and crotchety," to "young, hyper, and athletic."
Friday: The day of the bridal shower. My sister opens gifts and pretends to be happy since, unfortunately, she will be receiving very few power tools. Her fiancee may be involved in this event but, in the tradition of brothers-in-law everywhere, I'm hoping to help him escape from the asylum for a few hours. Arriving today are most of my cousins, including my favorite cousin Sarah and her husband Scott, and miscellaneous other friends.
Saturday: The wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. I'm looking forward to the playacting involved in this event, as well as seeing just how bizarre I'm going to look escorting one of the bride's maids. As I will be escorting my sister's college friend Susan, who is a diminutive Indian doctor, I rather expect to look quite bizarre. The dress for the rehearsal dinner seems to be gradually creeping up the formality scale, having increased from "Jeans and a nice shirt" to "Slacks and a buttoned shirt" already, so I rather expect to be in a suit for the event. This promises to be an interesting experience, as I did not bring any suits with me. Also today we will be collecting the tuxedos from the shop, and discovering how many of us have garments of the wrong size. If previous experience is a guide, I'll be in shoes three sizes too small. This evening will be the bachelor party. As the groom is a former sailor, I expect quite an event. As I don't drink, and am therefore a born designated driver, I expect to be invited. Knowing my luck, I expect to go to sleep Sunday morning smelling like a three-dollar hooker.
Sunday: Der Tag. The wedding happens in the early afternoon, which means that the process of readying the bride must begin at the crack of dawn. As a groomsman, and a member of the bride's family, I'll be expected to monitor the groom and prevent him from fleeing. This shouldn't be a problem, as I can easily outsprint him. Once we reach the reception, I will keep my eyes peeled for the first drunken hookups and the chicken dance. With luck I will avoid getting pigeonholed by that one relative who still thinks I'd make a great member of the clergy.
So, that's my week in a nutshell. Stay tuned for random, sporadic updates that really aren't important to anyone.