to top it off we found out my three year old nephew threw back a few...

When we arrived at the dimly-lit chapel Sam’s welts had gone down significantly but his eyes were still swollen and he was definitely doped-up on medications. A few people I didn’t know milled about at the front of the church. My oldest sister was busy working away at decorating the chapel. If Martha Stewart had a nice, selfless, not-likely-to-commit-purgery-or-do-time twin, it would be my sister, Delissa.

“So, I guess the groomsmen know you,” my brother said to me obliquely while we stared at the Church’s Wedding Coordinator. He had an expression like it was possibly a bad thing.

“Huh?” I said, completely confused since I really didn’t know more than two of them and those two wouldn’t have said anything about me. Disregarding that I became enthralled with the quiet, yet deadly movements of the Wedding Coordinator.

“I feel like she comes with the church or something— she's crazy intense and pervasive,” I said to Landon as the soft-spoken woman commanded her audience to sit down and pay attention after she had gone from group to group giving whispered instructions.

Once everyone was in attention she began to speak…ahem….I mean SQUEAK. Immediately my body tensed. I don’t take direction well as it is—but when it’s coming from a soft-squeaky woman who glares down with an intensity of a thousand suns….well….I start to foam at the mouth. It gets worse if the squeaking is drawn out unnecessarily.

“Let’s talk about food.” Pause. Pause. Pause. “We all want to be sure and eat some the day of the wedding so that no one passes out.” Pause Pause Pause.

Thank you, Stephen Hawking, my hungry, tired, not-enjoying-this-at-all-obnoxious self was thinking.

“I once had a bride who couldn’t fit into her dress…so she didn’t eat the whole day….and then…she went up on the altar [like Isaac??!!] and she completely passed out in front of everyone. So we all know that if you don’t eat, I have to get up in front of everyone and fan you back to life.”

Seriously?!Seriously?!Back to life?!What are you, Jesus?!(totally starving at this point and therefore losing it)

Pause.Pause.Pause.

“Let’s talk about tuxes. Now.” Pause Pause Squeaky Pause. “Where is Travis? Travis? Travis? Where is Travis?”

He was very confidently raising his hand but she still wanted to say his name thirteen times.

“Ohhh…that is such a lovely name. You know I knew a Travis once who…”
And off she went on another story.

I started turning to people near me and making choking faces. I was going to die if this frigging thing didn’t get moving. I half expected her to quietly, laboriously say:

“Now let’s talk about shoe laces. Do you have shoe laces?”

Instead she moved on to what color foods we were allowed to eat the next day. Clear foods. How many clear foods exist in the world, might I ask? Besides water? Some sort of gelatin made out of nutrasweetener/chrystallized fructose? Eyeball gel?I wondered if Sam’s rash was growing worse under the sheer length of detailed minutiae….I was certain I was getting one from that woman.

“Hi, I’m Leizel,” I said to the groomsmen escorting me down the aisle.

“I know who you are, I’m Peter*, friends with your friend Lacy*.”

Wait. THAT Peter? The one that…..

See, it would be really cool if I said that in my head.

But I didn’t.

Yeah, I said it out loud:

“You’re THAT Peter?”

Aaaaawwwkkkwwaaarrrrrd.

Quite a few great stories and perhaps a few not so great popped into my mind and I wondered, at my comment, what popped into his.

A few hours later at the dinner I finally recognized one of the other groomsmen and the reason why my brother had made his remark: years ago apparently there had been some bad blood between me and that guy, but I honestly can’t remember what about. I do remember disliking the fellow, but I have no idea why. Perhaps he said something truly cruel or unkind or totally degrading…..

“I think he said you were too much of a feminist or something,” my friend Lacy said when she arrived late that night as we were setting up.

Oh. Ok.

Either way, it was slightly awkward but not nearly as awkward as:

The woman who royally effed up Lindsey’s hair the MORNING OF her wedding.

To be continued….

*Names have been changed from here on down to protect the innocent. And my nephew is holding a glass of cider.