Today begins three days of wedding stuff. Rehearsal dinner tonight. Wedding tomorrow. Brunch on Sunday. One of my brothers is being nuptialed. We're typical mild-mannered WASPS. They're second generation German-Americans who like to sing and dance and drink. I smell vomit in the men's room.
There will be a videographer so I expect you'll see me on YOUTUBE soon.
A couple of the nieces will be flower girls. One of theirs. One of
ours. I hear my niece, who's three, has been practicing her moves,
walking with a basket of flower petals and tossing them left and right
until she thinks she's got it right. Both of her parents are attorneys.
Is this practicing until it's perfect thing a good sign?
Here's a bad sign. The rehearsal dinner starts at 6:00. The rehearsal
starts at 4:00. Two hours to rehearse? Or does this just mean extra
time for imbibing? I think it's the latter. I'm so not into alcohol
I'm just hoping for some free food and a chair to sit in. And I hope
the bride's father, a recent widower, doesn't get so drunk that I look
like date bait. He kissed me on the lips at Christmastime [PTUI]
because I gave hiim a bunch of Bears' shit -- a shotglass, one of those
magnetic logos for the side of your car and a window flag. He drives a
Cadillac, so he decided to put the magnetic thing on his basement bar.
Next to the velvet painting of Elvis I bet. I'm nothing if not
the thoughtful giftgiver. And such a respectful sister in law of his
Wake me when it's over.