Shower of Possibilities

This year has been jam packed with major life events for friends of mine. More so than in previous years. Everyone keeps saying, "Well, you ARE at that age."

No! I'm not. Wait. Yes I am. Crap.

Anyway.

Engagements, marriages, first babies, SECOND BABIES, new homes, new lives getting underway. To say that I am excited for them all would be an understatement. These friends of mine are lighting the way, showing me that not only can they take these big steps, but that overall its also a lot of fun. For those of you who know me well, my general opinion of my own matrimony can be summed up in the theme of my statistically likely wedding: When the Earth Collides with The Sun.

Fortunately for me, I won't have to worry about that for a while. Instead, I just returned from standing up in two weddings within seven days, across the country from each other. The usual events occurred in the usual way. The brides were gorgeous and radiant, the grooms dashing and adorable. The families were happy and kind to each other, the food delicious and the dancing hilarious.

In the wind up to the big day (both of them) I found myself looking forward to the same thing. Something I've realized I enjoy outside of the wedding context...

The "getting ready" shower.

It is a shower with a special purpose. To emerge pink, smooth, clean, and a blank slate. Ever since I was in middle school, getting ready to go to a dance, this has been a favorite ritual, because it is the moment when EVERYTHING is possible.

I find myself standing under the water, thinking about how I'll eventually do my make-up, how my dress will look, about how maybe this time they won't make my hair all crazytown. Maybe I'll get to dance with a cute fella. Maybe I'll be able to keep my heels on the whole time. So many of these musings are exactly what 13 year old me was thinking about!

True, I'm not generally this girly about getting ready to go out, but I really love to let my mind wander in those instances. In the most recent past, it also acted as a sort of self-preservation. Shielding my loneliness with a hopeful bubble. Creating a diversion for my brain!

Of course, things don't exactly happen in the way I lay them out. I hadn't anticipated the awkward conversation during wedding #2....

(Scene opens with LD sitting at the family table during the reception, watching everyone's purses and drinking a mimosa)

GUY (swaggering over and sitting down): Hey.

LD: Hi.

GUY: I'm Dude (name changed for hilariousness).

LD: Hi, Dude. I'm Laura how do--

GUY: Just so you know, I'm like the only single guy here. I heard you were the single bridesmaid.

LD: What? Uh, who is going around telling people that?

GUY (laughs into his drink): So. How do you know these guys?

LD: Sarah has been one of my best friends since seventh grade. You?

GUY: I live down the street. So, are you her sister?

LD:.....what?

GUY: Sarah. Are you one of Sarah's sisters?

LD: No...we met in seventh grade....

GUY: Oh! right. Sorry, I'm kind of distracted. I'm worried about my son.

LD: What's wrong?

GUY: I don't know. He might be in the hospital...I don't really know though...

LD: Wait, you don't know if your son is in the hospital?

GUY: Well, he's visiting his Mom in Arizona and she really wants him to go. He's got severe strep throat or something.

LD: How old is he?

GUY: Eighteen.

(long pause)

GUY: Yeah, I really want him to be a windmill mechanic but I'm not sure.....

And, there we have it. After the shower of possibility, I have an empty glass and the moniker "the single bridesmaid." Oh, and I have Dude. Who is now talking about the merits of vocational training.

Wedding #1 yielded slightly better results, but I unfortunately reverted into my low-functioning flirt mode (see the previous post regarding a giant bear chasing boys up into trees) and after 500 glasses of wine probably laid it on a little thick...including making a lovely fella pinky promise to dance with me, and then later informing him that my pinky had CALLED me, wondering what was going on with the whole dancing situation. Bless his heart, he placated my continual demands with a dance to Styx. Awesome.

Also, getting covered in rain water and bug body parts while hustling with my fellow bridesmaids to pull the tent flaps down when the rain finally showed up in Ohio. Spending a solid 5 minutes with another woman's hand on my butt keeping me from sliding off a folding chair while I try not to pop out of my strapless dress mid-tent-flap-pull was NOT in my shower matrix of things to be hopeful about. It was, however, hysterical.

After two weeks of weddingness, two of my closest gals are now Mrs. Pacheco and Mrs. Viccellio. They are literally showered with possibilities now, the bright futures they have with their new families, and I am so happy for them both.

Meanwhile I'm still Miss Dieli, and if anyone needs me, I'll be in the shower, dreaming.