My mother's wedding, 4 months later
(Here again, written for an English assignment. At top I wrote: Description of my mother's wedding - showing no emotion. Make it interesting considering. Think about what I'm writing - I'm describing a wedding.
Again, if it wasn't for this English assignment I would not have these 2 documents that I have now about these gaps in my life from 1981, as well as a little piece of me from 1978.
As I type this, I am reading this now for the first time in 25 years, as my mother just celebrated her 25th wedding anniversary).
My mother got married on June 21, 1981, at approximately 7:25 P.M. There was a slight delay that day because certain people were late, typical of weddings. I stood beside her for about 25 minutes. Brian, the best man, looked bored. I must admit I did not listen to everything the minister said either. I looked bravely at Brian, my mother, and the man she was marrying. I did not cry like I thought I would.
When the service was over, Pat and Kevin walked up the aisle and Brian and I followed. I smiled so hard. No picutres of us were taken, just of my mother and Kevin. I searched for my friends in the seats but they were not there. I found out later that they had just arrived as the service was ending.
In the back, where our destination was for the time being before the wedding reception, ther was champagne. It took a while before we four got into the room. We had to sign stuff, take pictures, and deliberately waste time it seemed so everyone would appreciate our later entrance.
About 7:50 P.M., we were introduced. Brian toasted after we four danced to a pretty John Denver song. Everyone watched. I made eye contact with my friends. I hadn't seen any of them except for Ellen that very day, since the Vail-Deane graduation. It was not 10 minutes that I sat down talking to my mom's friends who came over to congratulate us, that I was up and running to my friends. They couldn't believe how good I looked. We talked and I told them they could drink as much as they wanted to. I introduced myself to Brian's friends. I brought him with me to meet my friends.
Appetizers were served and I had to eat at the head table to eat my food. That stupid rule quickly vanished. When the buffet was ready, our table was the first to got to get our food. In line, I motioned to my friends for attention and spelled out "pizza" on my fingers. They laughed. I laughed.
I ended up not eating after that. I didn't even drink. When the dancing music started, I was up there dancing. I danced and danced. It reminded me how much I love parties. They're fun.
I sat down every now and then and told funny stories to Brian's friends. (Come to think of it - they weren't his friends, one was his sister and her friend, another was a cousin, and another was his girlfriend). They all thought I was funny.
I went to the bathroom a few times, took off my shoes, and constantly asked the photographer to take my picture. I smiled for five hours! At one point, there was a family portrait during that and I missed the Horah, my favorite dance.
I kept dancing until the very end. That place stunk. I danced with many interesting people too. Afterwards, us young people all went to New York to a disco. We all didn't realize how tired we were until we got there. I was starving. I hadn't eaten earlier. We danced and went home. We couldn't wait to fall asleep.
This seems like a boring wedding - it kind of was if you didn't dance. I only got one piece of cake! I forget to mention about the little chocolate cups with amaretto that were so good.
This emotionless account doesn't seem right.
(Author's note: And thus here is the only account I have of my mother's wedding. The day I dreaded for months had finally come and gone and I never recorded it. As weddings go, it was dramaless. I did not display any great emotions. It was just a party to me and I danced and hung out with my friends. But I never did return to writing until English class sort of got me going again.
Like this blog and my blogger friend who encouraged me to put my diaries online, English class assignments were all the motivation I needed to start writing again. I began to write in earnest over the next several months, but I was to stop again my senior year).
Again, if it wasn't for this English assignment I would not have these 2 documents that I have now about these gaps in my life from 1981, as well as a little piece of me from 1978.
As I type this, I am reading this now for the first time in 25 years, as my mother just celebrated her 25th wedding anniversary).
My mother got married on June 21, 1981, at approximately 7:25 P.M. There was a slight delay that day because certain people were late, typical of weddings. I stood beside her for about 25 minutes. Brian, the best man, looked bored. I must admit I did not listen to everything the minister said either. I looked bravely at Brian, my mother, and the man she was marrying. I did not cry like I thought I would.
When the service was over, Pat and Kevin walked up the aisle and Brian and I followed. I smiled so hard. No picutres of us were taken, just of my mother and Kevin. I searched for my friends in the seats but they were not there. I found out later that they had just arrived as the service was ending.
In the back, where our destination was for the time being before the wedding reception, ther was champagne. It took a while before we four got into the room. We had to sign stuff, take pictures, and deliberately waste time it seemed so everyone would appreciate our later entrance.
About 7:50 P.M., we were introduced. Brian toasted after we four danced to a pretty John Denver song. Everyone watched. I made eye contact with my friends. I hadn't seen any of them except for Ellen that very day, since the Vail-Deane graduation. It was not 10 minutes that I sat down talking to my mom's friends who came over to congratulate us, that I was up and running to my friends. They couldn't believe how good I looked. We talked and I told them they could drink as much as they wanted to. I introduced myself to Brian's friends. I brought him with me to meet my friends.
Appetizers were served and I had to eat at the head table to eat my food. That stupid rule quickly vanished. When the buffet was ready, our table was the first to got to get our food. In line, I motioned to my friends for attention and spelled out "pizza" on my fingers. They laughed. I laughed.
I ended up not eating after that. I didn't even drink. When the dancing music started, I was up there dancing. I danced and danced. It reminded me how much I love parties. They're fun.
I sat down every now and then and told funny stories to Brian's friends. (Come to think of it - they weren't his friends, one was his sister and her friend, another was a cousin, and another was his girlfriend). They all thought I was funny.
I went to the bathroom a few times, took off my shoes, and constantly asked the photographer to take my picture. I smiled for five hours! At one point, there was a family portrait during that and I missed the Horah, my favorite dance.
I kept dancing until the very end. That place stunk. I danced with many interesting people too. Afterwards, us young people all went to New York to a disco. We all didn't realize how tired we were until we got there. I was starving. I hadn't eaten earlier. We danced and went home. We couldn't wait to fall asleep.
This seems like a boring wedding - it kind of was if you didn't dance. I only got one piece of cake! I forget to mention about the little chocolate cups with amaretto that were so good.
This emotionless account doesn't seem right.
(Author's note: And thus here is the only account I have of my mother's wedding. The day I dreaded for months had finally come and gone and I never recorded it. As weddings go, it was dramaless. I did not display any great emotions. It was just a party to me and I danced and hung out with my friends. But I never did return to writing until English class sort of got me going again.
Like this blog and my blogger friend who encouraged me to put my diaries online, English class assignments were all the motivation I needed to start writing again. I began to write in earnest over the next several months, but I was to stop again my senior year).
posted by Grand Inquisitor at 9:50 AM
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