I have a group of girlfriends that I met at my southern college. We call our little group The Besties, and we've stayed in touch through single life, heartbreak, weddings, babies, health scares, vacations, job changes, moves, --you name it.
Well the last of the Besties to get married (well, besides me. See my dating life here, here, and here for explanation) just got engaged last year. So the bridesmaid adventure began again.
Let's skip over the part where she was trying to ask me to be a bridesmaid but I was too busy complaining about another wedding I had been in...because leave it to me to make things awkward. And really ironic.
Let's instead jump straight to right before the wedding when -
there's a snow storm.
...and my flight is cancelled.
The bride and I try to figure out a way for me to still get there that doesn't involve dog sledding and at one point she tells me some friends of hers are leaving from Baltimore that night and maybe I could carpool with them.
The wedding is in Cleveland, Tennessee. I'm sorry, but a 9+ hour drive with people I don't really know, on potentially bad roads? I'd rather dog sled.
(I find out later that it took them twenty one hours to make the trip in the end. DEAR GOODNESS, I would've killed someone. Then ate them. Because that's a long time to be trapped in a car with no food.)
And I drive a mustang, so driving in snow is not really an option. But when I wake up on the day of the wedding rehearsal, it looks like traffic is moving outside my apartment. So I figure - what the heck. Let's see how far we can make it.
I throw things in a bag, kiss Chloe, and flee. And as I'm driving down the interstate, I start to see carnage from the night before. A car slid off here, a transfer trailer truck flipped there --- yep, this is looking like such a good idea.
But the roads ended up being fine so I just keep going. And in my haste, I didn't really think through timing. So as my trip progresses, I realize there's no way I'll make it for rehearsal, but that I might possibly make rehearsal dinner.
But I'm wearing leggings and no makeup.
I wonder if I can roll into town in enough time to stop by a friends' to change. Then, with each mile that passses, I realize that is so not going to happen.
So about 20 minutes outside of Cleveland, I pull into a gas station and proceed to make it my dressing room.
I change clothes in the stall, then move to hair and makeup at the sink. At some point, the perfume bottle I brought in crashes to the floor and breaks, leaving me to scurry around picking up pieces of glass.
So far, this is going really well.
I continue with makeup. But I quickly learn that the door to the stall keeps falling open, pinning me against the sink. This will not do. In frustration, counting down the minutes, I finally side kick the door closed, in my nice lace dress, and hold it there, leaving me to look like this from the waist up:
And this from the waist down.
Finally, I finish, jump back on the road and I end up driving into the dinner venue with literally four minutes to spare.
I'm getting too old for these shenanigans....
I see all my friends and we bounce around greeting each other like Golden Retrievers at a dog park, until finally, we sit down for the festivities.
And that's when the bride's grandfather is saying a prayer --- and I hear something next to me.
And I realize in horror that two of my friends have just entered -- the Giggle Loop.
Dear goodness, get me out of here.
I open my eyes and try to give them the Mom Look but they are too far gone. Finally one of them lets out a a snort/cough sound and thankfully the prayer ends.
This is why I love these girls. So inappropriate. Even in our 30's.
Anyway, the rest of the night goes well. That is, until I need to find my other friend's house, who was kind enough to let me stay with her.
I head out of the downtown area and onto the road where my friend lives. But all I can find by the mailbox with her address on it is an unpaved road that seemingly leads into nothingness. And it's dark.
And here's where I have to explain that something happened to me when I moved to a city. I'm now so used to traffic noise, sirens, gun shots, what have you, that now the country scares me. Here, people aren't bothering to lock their doors but all I can think is "no one can hear me scream!"
So I call her.
"Um...am I in the right place?"
She says yes, that I just need to keep driving down that driveway. She also reminds me that I've totally been to her house before (Ah. Another win for Queen Oblivious.).
At last, I get in and fall into bed after my crazy day. I glance at my phone, on which I neglected to turn off the navigation system, and the screen just says:
Yes. Yes, I finally did.
More on the actual wedding in the next post.