July Showers

Coming back from theatre-tour-induced-blog-hiatus, I had this post started on my desktop – it was serious and uncomfortable and a teensy bit geopolitical and in a hopefully human rights savvy sort of way – and I’m still probably going to finish and post it at some point, because sadly, it will still be relevant.

But right now, I’m kind of just riding high on sisterly love and camaraderie due to a completely kick-ass bridal shower on Sunday, so I’m writing about that instead.

ribbonhat
Here’s me in my ceremonial ridiculous ribbon hat. Look, some traditions are really important. Photos by the lovely Elizabeth Miller; Hat by the lovely Devon Johnson Lindsay. 

I can’t honestly say I was worried about this day (except insofar as it required me to be the center of attention for a solid three hours, which was slightly terrifying – so, yeah, obviously a good trial run for the big day itself), but it did have me a bit puzzled-head-shake-y. I mean, my work friends next to my college friends next to my mom’s family next to my in laws next to childhood friends’ parents? What does that even look like?

Even walking up to the venue and walking into the room was a very surreal experience. Oh, there’s someone I know. Oh, there’s someone else I know.

Oh, right – I know all of these people.

In my mind, the various groups on the invite list are so different – in age, political preference, socio-economic strata, level of nerdiness, level of interest in theatre, musical ability, athletic ability, taste in tea… like, this was impossible. What were these people going to do in a room together for three hours? My one specific anxiety was the current, yearlong political climate – given that there were definitely both ends of the political spectrum present in the room – and if anyone started taking about either of the presidential forerunners, I would have hid under the table and cried.

Of course no one did. Everyone was wonderful, and more important, everyone was wonderful together.

Why had I ever doubted that?

This is why a bridal shower is still relevant. The presents (which were numerous and awesome and very, very much appreciated) are secondary to the experience of sitting surrounded by a council of women (or mixed – bridal showers with dudes invited are totally kosher as well), in a close circle of love, fellowship, and joy. There was so much support and laughter in that room – including that of those who couldn’t make it, many of whom sent notes/jokes/emails/texts/carrier pigeons and made their presence known – and that spirit of companionship was palpable in a way that I never would have anticipated but totally should not have found surprising.

Everything was wonderful. Even the awkward stuff was wonderful (Unrelated note – is anyone in the market for a purple sequined cat thong?). And I’m already looking back at that whirlwind couple hours and thinking, Yeah, that happened, and it was great, and I can’t believe it’s over already, in the same way that I know I’ll be thinking about the wedding itself in a couple months.

Other highlights from the shower included my beautiful aunt’s introductory remarks, which were brief, spot on, included every guest by name, and exactly what I hadn’t realized I needed/wanted to hear; a competition to see who could put various couples photos of loving fiancée and myself in chronological order (most in attendance determined this was impossible, as we’re apparently both vampires who haven’t aged at all over the last ten years); and these utterly amazing blue teacups made out of cardstock, hot glue, and the will of the Force – favors made by two crafty members of my bridal party.

And the headlong, glowing, blushing, speed-reading dash to get through the mountain of gifts and cards, hoping against hope that despite all of my usual socially awkward glory, it was obvious how much everyone’s presence (and presents!) meant to me.

For years, I’ve heard people say that their wedding day was “perfect,”and I’ve always assumed that either (a) they’re exaggerating, or (b) that’s just something that happens to other people. Sunday – and my aunt, and my bridesmaids, and my incredible friends and family – made me believe that perfect or not, “perfect” can happen to me, too.

This coming weekend, a dear friend of mine is celebrating her bridal shower. I’m going to enjoy sitting on the other side of the room again, and I’m going to paparazzi the bejeesus out of her, and I’m going to bask in the love and joy and celebration of an incredible lady. And I mean, maybe she’ll have some use for a purple sequined cat thong…

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