Alright, alright. I apologize for the revolting blog entry written below. But actually, I only half-way apologize for writing it. That entry was real and true--in short, it's me, people. Take it or leave it.
But to prove to all of you that I am not filled with disturbing/disgusting thoughts all of the time, I decided to blog again, and fast. Lucky for me, I had quite an eventful weekend, left with lots to write about.
This past weekend I attended my first wedding of a friend. This was the first wedding, where I was not seated at a table with my older brother and younger sister. This was the first wedding where Grandma Eva's table was not just a mere inch away from mine. Nope, this was the wedding of my childhood friend, Heather--and I was lucky enough to be there with a great crew of friends.
When Heather and I were little, we attended Harbor Hills Day Camp together. This was where we met, and would later go to middle and highschool together. Heather and I used to dress up in "twin" outfits. As small children, it was not just our outfits that were the same. Both of us had light brown hair, blue/green eyes, and had faces smattered with freckles. Both of us were tiny little girls. One particular day we decided to dress up to camp as "twins." We each wore a hot pink tank, paired with black and white checkered shorts. (Even though it was 1990, I would totally wear that outfit again). On some sort of parents Visiting Day, Heather's dad ran up to me and hugged me, thinking that I was his daughter. He never forgot that moment, as it became one of those memories that our parents would bring up at bat-mitzvahs, graduations... and now at Heather's wedding. During the cocktail hour of the wedding,Heather's dad approached me and said, "Looks like you and Heather decided to wear different outfits today."
" Yup...looks like it."
My high school friends and I took our seats and prepared to watch our friend get married. We watched as the bridal party and groomsmen walked down the aisle. As familiar faces glided down that aisle, I waited for the one face I needed to see to make this whole thing real. A dramatic change in music; the doors opened and Heather walked in, her mom and dad on each arm. That was all I needed-- and it looked like I wasn't the only one. I looked at my girlfriends' faces-- completely tear streaked. (Myself included). Naturally, the boys did not cry...but I know this was just as surreal for them, as it was for us. Heather had taken that irreversible plunge towards adulthood. And there was no turning back.
Weddings have always kind of made me a little sad. Something about a father giving his daughter away, really just kind of rips me up inside. Weddings also remind me that I have friends with husbands, and I still don't have a boyfriend. But perhaps, most importantly of all--weddings force me to recognize the fact that (whether we want to or not) we certainly are growing up, and people are announcing their grownupness in front of family, friends and local religious figures alike.
In short, let me say this: The wedding was a total blasty blast. Heather and her HUSBAND (gasp!) walked into the party room to "I gotta feeling." So, I knew--this really was going to be a good, good night. I danced my pants off, drank my face off, and talked to a boy that I made out with nine years ago and had not seen since 2001. An amazing time was had by all. While I felt like I was reliving my youth at a bat-mitzvah, I had to keep reminding myself: this is a wedding, not a bat-mitzvah, and you're not thirteen years old anymore.
And, just in case you (my readers) have not yet realized--this remains to be a constant reminder.
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