Wednesday, June 22, 2011

“I *Never* Do”


I’m feeling kind of “Weddingy” these days. I just saw “Bridesmaids” and now my youngest son is engaged. A friend’s daughter is set to wed on Saturday and a neighbor in a couple of weeks.


Because I have a lot of experience in what not to do....HERE COMES THE: Wedding “I never Dos”

1. Brides--Never, EVER pretend to throw the bouquet.
I was 20 the first time I tried to catch a bouquet. I was at a wedding reception with my boyfriend. The bride positioned herself to toss the flowers backwards. Just as she made a motion to throw, I, alone, charged for it, crazed ram-like. I tripped and when I raised my head up from the grass and saw my boyfriend, now sheep-white with several men around him slapping his back and laughing. The bride had only pretended to throw it that time.


 
After 26 years, I still want to punch her face in.

 
2. Never allow yourself to be photographed doing the “Chicken Dance.”

 
I was having a very good time at my wedding. Such a good time, I didn’t realize that my new uncle-in-law had stopped filming the 19 year old Danish foreign exchange student and turned the camcorder on me until we were at a post-wedding gathering at the Eagles Club 2 weeks later.

“Is that you?” my husband, Fred, asked. I looked up from a conversation to see myself flapping and making “talkie-crab hands” on 5 giant T.V. screens. Thanks to a prior undocumented slow dance with Fred’s sweaty friend, my make-up was running.

I was Alice Cooper in a giant lacey albino orca suit.

Don’t even get me started on the “Hokey Pokey” clip.

3. Unless you want exploding boutonnieres roses, never order from “Discount Flowers.”

I ordered peach roses for my bouquet and the men’s boutonnieres from a cheap florist. We were outside only 10 minutes before the temperature change caused the cold flowers, pinned to the men, to explode. We’re talking Morticia Addams-like beheaded flowers. Petal-less stems. “Anti-Boutonnieres.”

4. Make sure your wedding photographer doesn’t have a brain tumor.

We took requests for extra picture copies back to our wedding photographer—who had a complete personality change and didn’t know who we were. I described us, “The Frazers. You know, exploding flowers, white nightmare “Chicken Dance”, super-model foreign exchange student?” But still, “No. Sorry.”

“What are you talking about you don’t remember—don’t you keep records?”

“I had a brain tumor removed and my short term memories are lost,” she eventually stammered. She might be able to locate the negatives… but then she asked me who I was again.

5. Never acknowledge it was your kid who took all the cheese cubes off the ice sculpture table.

Well, obviously.