The Scene: Debbie and Marc's Wedding
The Time: Saturday, June 20, 2009
The Place: Fall River, MA
Best Supporting Actress: Me, as "The Best Lady"
Here's the rundown:
Friday night, I had trouble sleeping. I was thinking about my dress and praying that it would fit because like EVERY woman who has an important date on the horizon, I had vowed to lose weight before the big day so that I could look buff. Yeah, right.
On Saturday morning, I, who would rather eat dirt than get up at the ass crack of dawn, got up really freakin early (did I mention I'm not a morning person?) to bathe, primp, and mold my big hair into a somewhat manageable state.
After applying my make-up and nailing down the hairdo, I put on my brand spankin new torpedo holders (a.k.a. very stiff underwire bra for large-ish jugs, like mine) followed by the body sausage that I've been bitching about for my last two posts:
After shimmying into the casing, I slowly stepped into the dress, pulled it up and sucked in as much air as humanly possible (David Blaine's got nothing on me) so that my husband could zip me up. Thankfully, the dress fit. But, let me just say that the top of the dress was TIGHTER than clenched butt cheeks after spicy Thai food! Seriously.
Any-who, after learning how to take short shallow breaths so I wouldn't hyperventilate or blow a hole in the side of my dress, the hubby and I went to pick up my Mom (the 78 year-old Portuguese Sophia Petrillo). Then, we picked up the bride and made our way to the ceremony.
The ceremony...in the midst of the I-do's:
The Wedding Party (L to R, Best Lady, Best Man, Bride, and Groom):
Sally and Deb (BTW, Friends since we were four, we're both turning forty this summer...AAAHHHH!!!):
Paul (the hubby) and my Mom....Nice tie, buddy! Hope it's not too confining! Hehehehehe:
And finally, Mom and me:
Funny story about my Mom...Because she tends to say whatever the hell she feels like saying at inopportune moments, I gave her a warning and told her to keep any comments that might cause someone to whip a teacup at her head to herself. She pretty much heeded the warning. But at one point, a friend of mine asked her if she was having a good time. Her response, "Mmmmm...Yeah (unconvincingly).....But I like to go shopping on Saturdays." Translation: I'd rather be at Macy's.
Then she looked at me and smiled.
For this week at least, she's escaped the wrath of Shady Pines.
Epilogue: After the wedding reception, the bride and groom, truly happy and in love, rode off into the sunset where they lived happily ever after.....Until seventeen years later when the groom, despite eating like a beast, still weighed the same as he did on his wedding day and the bride, having gained at least twenty-five pounds, wanted to bust his face.
Oh, wait. That's my story.