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Wednesday, October 13, 2010

It's a dry heat, part two

I woke up, later during that "tomorrow", not feeling much different than I did when I went to bed.  It felt like someone twisted my head off and kicked it down the street.  But, I knew myself well enough by now to know what I needed.

Food.  Oh, and something caffeinated on the side would be ever so nice.

If I couldn't be back in my own bed, then I might as well raid my mother's refrigerator.

I stumbled out of the guest room and said good morning to my family, all of whom were already up.  I can only imagine how I must have looked because practically the first words out of my brother's mouth were, "Cyn, let me make you some eggs.  You need to eat something."

Be still my heart.

While he fired up the stove, I begged my mother to show me where she kept the coffee.  I figured that could only help my head to feel somewhat normal again.  My nephews had a huge bowl of fruit salad in front of them, so I weaseled my way in between and proceeded to stuff my face.  Pretty soon, I had a big mug of coffee and a plate of eggs and toast to contend with.

This day was starting to shape up nicely.

My mother presented my brother and me with gifts for participating in the ceremony:  a watch for him and a necklace for me which "should match your dress beautifully", she commented.  I interpreted that to mean she wanted me to wear it during the wedding.  Duly noted, Mom.

As I ate, I chatted with my stepsister, Jen, and my mother.  Well, truthfully, they did most of the chatting.  That suited me just fine since I didn't have much to say between bites of breakfast and sips of coffee.  I have become a morning person by necessity due to my work schedule (I start at 6 a.m. 3-4 days a week).  But, just because I'm up at o'dark hundred doesn't mean that I want to talk to anyone right away.  You gotta work up to these things.

All of a sudden, my mother checks the time and says, "Well, we better get ready."

It was 10 a.m.

The "rehearsal" was at 3 p.m. and the ceremony was an hour later.

Color me confused.

I say, "for what?"

She replies, "we're getting our hair done at 11."

Either my mother had a mouse in her pocket, or she was talking to Jen and me.

She was, in fact, talking to us.  This was news to Cyndi Lou.  

Maybe she wanted to surprise us.  Or, maybe, she just plain forgot to mention it.  In any event, we've never had stellar communication.  But, since she was going to be saying "I Do" in a mere six hours, I decided to cut her some slack.  Pre-wedding jitters is enough to make anyone a bit loopy.

I got myself showered and ready to get beautified.  We arrived at the salon and I met my stylist, whose name escapes me.  She takes one look at my thick, naturally curly hair and decides that it needs to be blown out straight for the wedding.  This isn't the first time a hairdresser has wanted to give me this particular look, so I decided to just roll with it.  As I was in the chair getting transformed, I shot a sideways glance over to my mom, who was receiving the finishing touches on her do.  It was at this time that I noticed the tiara.

Yup.  Tiara.  She was going all Princess Di on us.

After we left the salon, we stopped to have lunch before heading back to the house.  Mom took us to her friendly, neighborhood Chili's where she was received like the royalty she was dressing as.  This was one of her hang outs.  Everyone seemed to know her, particularly our server, who ended up paying the tab as a wedding gift.  Apparently, there IS such a thing as a free lunch.

We got back to the house with just enough time to get ourselves and my mother dressed and ready.  Getting ourselves ready was a breeze.  Mom was going to take a little more time.  Jen and I did our best to get her all buttoned, zippered and buckled.  This dress should have come with instructions, but we did a pretty good job nonetheless.  You can imagine how grateful I was to have Jen there helping with all of this.  She had a fancy schmancy dress at her own wedding, so she had a little experience with this stuff.

Me?  The "matron of honor"?

I eloped.

Plus, I got my dress at the mall for under $100.

My brother and I do not seem to share my mother's sense of the ornate.  I suspect neither one of us were really looking forward to dressing up.  But, bro cleans up pretty well.  He was all decked out in black pants, black jacket, white shirt and red tie. He looked really good.

By now, you may be wondering what the matron of honor had on.

I was wearing a red/cranberry sleeveless dress with black nylons and black shoes.  Why I decided to wear nylons for a wedding in Arizona, I do not know.  I don't like wearing them EVER, never mind in 90+ degree temps.  My friend, Sarah, couldn't believe that I had them on either.  She thought I was nuts.  I was inclined to agree with her.  But, I couldn't exactly change my mind now.

It was time to go to the church.

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