The Secret Life of Bridesmaids

If ever anyone was qualified to write a book on such a subject as the title of this post suggests, it would be me. And in the book I would include such topics as, “I Will Never Wear This Again,” “That Color is Atrocious,” and “Why Don’t You Just Elope?”

Thankfully, I would never have to include a chapter on “Let Me Wear My Own Damn Shoes” because all of the brides I’ve attended have known better than to try and dictate footwear apparel. And all have been very flexible on hair and make up as well. Of the seven (7) times I have donned a special dress and stood up as a bridesmaid in weddings, I have lucked out and had no bridezillas. Most were just happy that you showed up, and most were mainly concerned not with what earrings are I was wearing and do they match my dress, but rather how much will pictures after the ceremony cut into the cocktail hour? Because new wifey needs a drink.

Needless to say, these were my kinds of brides.

But I’m happy to report to you, dear Interneters, that with only a couple weeks to go until I am officially out of my twentysomething years, I have accomplished one of my goals: to NOT be a bridesmaid in this, my 29^th year.* I’ve been TO three weddings this year, but have at most done a reading, and otherwise simply showed up in support of the bride and groom. And I don’t plan on being in any weddings in the next two weeks-ish, baring any elopements that may happen between now and March 13, 2009, of course. But I’m not expecting any, and even if one of my friends did elope, I would probably not be involved, which is just fine by me. I’m always honored to be asked to stand up in someone’s wedding, but if you don’t ask me, I’m not going to be offended. I might even be relieved, frankly. I love you, dear friends, and I am very excited for you and your fiancé, but trust me I do not equate the strength of our friendship to whether or not you ask me to wear an A-line dupioni silk dress with organza underlay. I do, however, equate the strength of our friendship to the bar package you choose at your reception. If you are truly my friend, you will have an open bar. And not just because cash bars are tacky.

I very much wanted to show you the array of ‘maids dresses I’ve worn over the years, but alas, most of those pictures come from the pre-digital camera age, and This Girl, sadly, doesn’t own a scanner. So instead I’ll just post some video from one of the weddings I went to this past year, and hope you enjoy watching me dance like the white girl I am.** And for the record, this “duet” is a time honored tradition between my friend Gina (the bride) and me. There’s a whole backstory and history to go along with it, but it’s not necessary here. What’s necessary is that I save myself from falling over completely, which I do, and which you will see, at about the 1:10 mark. I may have had a couple glasses of wine. No judging.

*I will, however, be one in my 30^th year. Thanks for that, Mare Beh Beh.

**Or not. I can't seem to get the video to embed or link in here, so if you're super curious to see it, simply google "Gina and Molly sing Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" and the video should pop up. You're welcome.

Objects in Mirror are Closer Than They Appear

In December, after four years and some months of payments, I finally paid off my car, Blue. Words alone can’t express the happiness I feel when I do not write a check to GMAC on the 27th of every month. I remember thinking when I bought him, “Oh my Christ, I will be 30 when this car is finally paid off. (Wrong-o, but close.) Thirty seems like terribly long way away when you’re 25. Turns out it’s not.

I love Blue, and he and I have had many adventures together, which is why I choose to express my feelings for him and this momentous occasion not simply in words, but in song. Particularly to the tune of Schiller’s “Ode to Joy," sung with full heart and voice.


Ode to Blue

No car payments any longer!
Now I own you free and clear!
Paid in full and four months early
Goals in my twenty ninth year.
You’ve been with me since that April
Since I lived in Chicagoland
Then we moved out to the District
Just inside the Beltway’s band

Baltimore has seen us often
So too have Ohio’s plains
My big fear of owning you
Are all repairs that cause me pains
Working turn signals, oil changes
All are very important
But so is my savings account
Which is currently quite scant

North or south or east or west
Sun, rain, sleet and even snow
Stuff you full of all my luggage
There is no place we won’t go
Back and forth DC to Chi-Town
We’ve made trips so many times
Highways, byways, tollbooths, back roads
Crossing various state lines.

(Big finish, ff)
Who knows where the road will lead us
Here is where the future starts
But I know you’re mine forever
Or until you fall apart!