I have just returned from a trip to "god's country, Midwest US" for the first wedding of the season. I'm taking a much needed week away from family and wedding frenzy, chilling out in cold and rainy Montreal. In 5 days, I will return to "god's country, Midwest US" for Wedding Number Two. There are also two other weddings that I wanted to attend, but at this point, given that my apartment hunt has been postponed and I haven't yet contracted movers for August, unless I figure out how to telekinetically transport myself I will have to miss them.
Which is okay. I enjoy weddings, and I enjoy sharing in my close friends' joy. But I've only been to one wedding and already I need to recharge. This one was in eastern Minnesota, on a bright sunny day (85 in the shade), in a little clearing near a forest, next to an historic hunting lodge and inn. There were about 70 people in attendance. It was pretty and simple, and the bride, my friend of nearly 20 years, and probably the most beautiful person any of us will ever know, looked luminous and statuesque, like one of her father's paintings. Which is a funny thing to say since almost all of them are larger than life and of her. It was very sweet and moving in an open, down-to-earth and understated way.
Wedding Number Two will be an entirely different affair. This is for my oldest and best friend from home. We've known each other for as long as we can remember and are always telling everyone "This is my good friend X, whom I've known since I was two." It's kind of a shared epithet. X is a theatre director and doctoral student, who has traveled all over the world studying circus and political theatre. We grew up singing, dancing, acting, and performing music together. She's marrying an ethnomusicologist, also from our hometown ("god's country, Midwest US"), but they met in New York where they live. Apparently we were all in a music theory class together in high school but I only vaguely remember it. The ethnomusicologist remembers everything precisely, including a verbal fugue I wrote about a salad and the fact that his future fiancee cut class all the time. X claims not to remember a thing.
This will be a much bigger wedding than Wedding Number One. I am one of six bridesmaids, probably the most international entourage of any bride getting married in "god's country, Midwest US," with people from both coasts of North America, as well as the Midwest, Montreal, and Paris. I think there will be about 150 to 175 people in attendance. The events start the Friday before the wedding, and end the following Monday.
And, miracle of miracles, the bridesmaid dresses are actually gorgeous and made of dupioni silk and it will be possible to wear them again. Mine is two-tone silk in basil green and magenta. Mostly basil green, though. It comes with a removable obi sash in magenta and leaf green. It's very pretty, even though my tailor tsked and said "Too tight in hips, too big in chest!" I can't help that I am pear-shaped. Still, she's an amazing tailor and she managed to make it fit perfectly. I've never been a bridesmaid before. I think I really lucked out this time. And the ban on gold shoes has been lifted! After searching for a month for green or magenta shoes and coming up empty-handed, it got to the point that whenever I closed my eyes, I would see an army of green shoes marching menacingly towards me. I was beginning to fear that this search would ruin shoe-shopping for me forever. Thankfully, we are now allowed to wear gold sandals. The minute I heard the news, I found a pair of strappy 3 inch heels and am now all set. My shoe fetish has not been quashed.
And after Wedding Number Two, I will head South to begin House Hunt Number One (and hopefully the only House Hunt expedition needed). I'm looking for an apartment or house in a neighborhood known as "The Historic West End." Which is supposed to be full of old Queen Anne style houses, wealthy liberals, and professors. Sounds okay to me. It's the South, after all.