Something Old, Something New

It's about that time, of life and of year, when the wedding bells start a-ringing. The snow has melted, the sun is shining, couples are beginning to emerge from their dens holding hands. Some have even ditched their winter scarves.

Many of my high school classmates, at least, the ones I've managed to stalk keep in touch with via everyone's favorite application, Facebook, are married, about to get married, or are thinking about getting married. When the first of us signed up for the Other Side of singledom, it was nary two weeks out of high school, and I'm not sure what happened to him/them. It seemed very rash and dangerous because we were just beginning our adult lives and was he even dating anyone?! What?

But now we are older and many of us are wiser, and now Decent Men have started appearing, which means that those single friends are venturing to the edge of singledom, peering over the ledge, and shrugging that it's not nearly so scary when you're a grown up.

I've been in one wedding, when my friend, the wonderful Anne, married Jasen, also wonderful, in the hills of Rancho Cucamonga, California. We wore long pink dresses and the day was hot and deserty. Now, make that two weddings, because weekend before last, Vicky up and go herself hitched, too, and to a fine man.

As Maid-o-Honor, I suspected I was supposed to do real work for the wedding preparations. Bridesmaids are not that important, work wise. They just show up and look pink. But Maids-o-Honor, they do things. The interwebs told me that I was supposed to plan a bachelorette party and also "provide support for the new bride." Well, I'm in DC, and she's not, so no bachelorette party without substantial travel bills. But Anthony and I DID give a lovely party, complete with Samia-cake (Have you had a Samia-cake? You need to have one.) At least I know that when I get married, I have a good cake-provider, assuming that Samia is not rich and famous by then, with her own Beverly Hills-based bakery. Even then, maybe she'll give me a discount? Vicky and Dave and the rest of the DC contingent came to my parent's grand house and had a lovely evening, complete with salami. Maid-o-Honor duty #1: check.

The maid-o-honor, the bride, the best man, and, most importantly, the cake.

And the rest was basically *talk*, but important talk about men and relationships and weddings and shoes and undergarments and honeymoons and expectations and babies and mothers-in-law and fathers and tuxes. And then the weekend came, and I put on my Girl Friday hat and got on the direct flight to LAX with Best Man Anthony.

We clean up real good.

Vicky, incidentally, is the Lowest Key Bride Ever. Any fears of a Bridezilla attack or a sudden sob of emotion five minutes pre-aisle were quickly put aside. She was chill. Except at 5 AM, wedding day, when we had to get up for our hair. That was not so much fun. But dang if we didn't look good afterwards.

Beautification at 5 am

We are grateful for Becca's cosmetology skills

It's strange to look at a newlywed couple, even if they've been dating a while, and really think about what they're jumping into together, hands held. They're jumping into an ocean. And even if you both know how to swim, the ocean is big. There are storms. Ships are wrecked on oceans. I look at the wedding pictures and wonder, in 20 years when they look back on these photos, what will they feel? Where will they be? What will they say about their wedding day when they were so young and new to life and each other?

I hope they'll say that their love has put down roots so deep that they will never be torn up, and I hope they look back on this day with wisdom and sweet nostalgia.

To the Nicks!