| Hi-
This is just a fake post because I have GOT to study but I needed a break (yeah, right) and I wanted to see how everyone was doing.
Things are okay here. My classes are going okay, but I have a huge test on Wednesday and it's going to be abysmal. I love my new job- it's the best part of every day. And I've started dreaming up my dog's Halloween costume. Actually, I'm dressing up both the cat and the dog. They're going as Sonny and Cher, I've decided. Early Sonny and Cher. Cat=Sonny, Dog=Cher. They're going to be a hit. A hit with whom, you ask? That is irrelevant. The point is, I'm not a crazy cat lady. I can't be. I have a dog.
This weekend, I had the opportunity to attend a wedding of a high school friend. I happened to bump into her three days after I got back in town, and she said she wanted me to come, and that she'd send me an invitation. Which she did, through facebook.
Now, let me say upfront that I have no problem with being invited via facebook. Hell, I almost created a Group for it, and named myself President of Amelia's Wedding. The only issue is that when you are invited via facebook, you aren't privy to the little extras that often come with wedding invites. Like perhaps "address of the reception" or "pick yer foodz" or "bring a date" or "DONT bring a date" or whatever. I'd never presume that I had a Plus One, so I just sent my dress off to the cleaners and tried to googlemap the shit out of everything so I could find where I was going.
Four or so days before the wedding, I got another message from the bride via facebook, asking who I was bringing. Feeling like the spinster lonely loser I am, I wrote back "Oh, I didn't think I was supposed to bring a date. I'm not seeing anyone right now anyway. Plus I don't know anyone here but you. And you're already going with someone else. Har har," I finished, cracking myself up.
She wrote back immediately and with an abundance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! of!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"You have to bring a date! You'll bring someone. Just find someone. I assumed you were bringing someone so you're at a table with all couples!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just bring your mom if you don't want to bring anyone else!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
A mild panic set in.
4 days to find a date that I could bring to a wedding where I'd be seeing people I haven't seen since high school. Normally I'd be like "fuck it" and invite a schmoe off the street, but that would only work if one had nothing at stake.
I told my mom "Find me a date, please." She laughed until I said "I'm serious, Ma. This is important."
"Your brother?" she suggested?
oh HELL no. That's like going to prom with your cousin.
The situation was getting somewhat desperate, but fortunately Fate stepped in. When I was at school I bumped into a guy who had been a senior at my high school when I was a freshman, and he was now in the same program as me, albeit a year ahead. Basically, three minutes into our HI HOW ARE YOU OH MY GOD conversation I invited him to the wedding. It happened just after I found out he was single and just before I asked about his dog, who apparently died 7 years ago. Whoops. Too soon?
He agreed to escort me, and that was perfect because he'd actually know a few of the people in attendance at the wedding. I picked him up on Saturday night, and off we went.
The wedding itself was sweet, if not surprisingly midwestern. Also, and I could be out of the loop on this, I found it strange that the reverend did the whole "if anyone should object, speak now or forever hold your peace" thing. Have you guys ever seen that in real life? I've honestly never heard that anywhere but TV, and I'm in weddings like it's my job. (I wish it was my job, instead of something I PAY to do, but whatever. I love weddings.)
So we progressed to dinner, and then dancing, which I am utterly unable to resist. I was feeling pretty good at that point. You see, I must have been really, really unspeakably ugly in high school, (or people just grew up and got super-polite) because everyone was telling me how great I looked, even though I am pretty sure I look busted as shit these days. That was nice. And I was wearing one of my favorite dresses- a sheer, chocolate brown little number with emerald accent pieces. Specifically, it has this really fun neckline. It's like a halter, but instead of a halter, it is a thin gold chain that you just hook behind your neck. Remember this. It's important.
The point is, I was feeling confident-ish, and having fun, and mingling without any huge mishaps. I was also waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I berated myself for my negativity and decided to hit the dance floor.
I was rocking pretty hard with my date and some friends, and I guess I got a little too excited, because I whipped my head to the side and kind of arched my back and then all of a sudden, it was...breezy? Breezy in there.
I placed my hand over my heard because my chest felt odd, and that is when I realized that my Necklace Neckline had snapped, and I was essentially dancing topless at the wedding.
I wasn't totally topless- somehow, I got my hand up there fast enough to press the tumbling fabric to my breasts, (sort of) sparing innocent wedding-goers the sight of my sub-par boobs. But still, it was the least desirable position on the dance floor, let me tell you that.
I turned to a friend of mine that I hadn't seen in years and said "Hey! Hi! Something happened to me."
Noting my hand clutched to my heart, she said "What? What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you having chest pains?"
"Oh, no no. Nothing like that. It seems my dress has broken." I tilted my hand a bit and showed her a nip so that she'd take me seriously.
"OH NO! WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN???"
She was taking it pretty rough.
"Nothing! Nothing's going to happen! It's okay. I just need someone to tie it back together."
She started futzing with my dress, and I, with my back to her, kept be-bopping. I don't actually know what that means, but I'm trying to say that I was still moving to the beat.
"I can't believe you're still dancing. You're not even upset. I'd be mortified if I were you. Why aren't you crying?"
"It could be worse. It has been worse. Once I was in a ballet and I threw up on stage. That was sad."
"I'm not getting this. It won't tie. What do I do?"
"You are so sweet for trying. Here, I think I have a bobby pin in my purse. Let's go back to the table."
We wove our way through the crowd, dodging the few drunk crazies who thought we had started a conga line, and made it back to the table where I'd carelessly tossed my bag. I handed her a bobby pin and instructed her in the art of Fixing Shit With Bobby Pins. Those things really are super helpful, I don't care what anybody says.
She manipulated the pin into a verisimilitude of repair, and we both headed back to the dance floor, me thanking her profusely as she was repeating, over and over, "I really don't think you should rock that hard anymore. Seriously, I don't know how that is going to hold up. TRY not to rock so hard."
My poor date, who, I believe, was one of a handful of victims who caught a glimpse of my knockers, or at least one knocker, was standing on the dance floor, where I'd left him.
"Hi! I'm sorry about that."
He smiled not-at-all creepily, and delivered the best line of the night:
"PLEASE don't apologize. This is the greatest wedding ever. Like Girls Gone Wild, but at a country club."
Clearly, changing locales will not affect my ability to fly under the radar of Keeping It Together, which is something I have mixed feelings about, but what the hell can you do, right?
I'm off to study now. And maybe shower. Thanks for listening, everyone.
Labels: accidents, inappropriateness |
I once was able to hold together a ripped pant hem with bobby pins for an entire afternoon. True story.