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Archive for September, 2005

Wedding Crashers

I should start calling this the Once A Month Blog, because really I am the world’s worst poster. I read a lot of blogs. Well, okay, not a LOT. I read about 20 blogs and they ALL POST REGULARLY.

Anywhoo.

So a lot has been happening here at the House of Chanel. For starters, my brother got married. I mean my BABY brother. I cannot believe it. You would not have believed it either, if you were there. I’m not going to go into details (Princess Bride music piped into the church), but let me just say (wrote own vows with tons of movie references), other people’s weddings (no booze at the reception)? Dudes, they are never as cool as one thinks a wedding should be (no AIR CONDITIONING at the reception) (in Central Virginia) (IN JULY). Having said that, it was, after all, VERY cool to be with all of my crazy wonderful family and to have Bartender Dude there, meeting them all and charming their socks off. Especially my grandmother. Oh and did I mention the part where somehow in the confusion someone forgot to bring my father’s sword to cut the cake (really, my great-grandfather’s sword) and it was coming up and my mother was about to LOSE IT and Bartender Dude was all “Oh don’t worry Mrs. Chanelbaby, I’ll drive over to the house and get it. Just give me directions and tell me where the sword is.”

Socks.

OFF.

So after that we pretty much get all the money in the will and the first pick of the china. Because my mother owns like ten sets. No, not really. (Okay, FIVE.)

ADDITIONALLY work has been so heinous and so busy and at one point so unbearable (this point being the point where my boss made my direct report cry and she cried in my office for 20 minutes with me consoling her and in the middle of this boss walks in and makes vibrating noises that she has to talk to me LIKE I CAN’T GUESS THAT ALREADY and I practically have to force her to leave my office to give my direct report some time to compose herself. This is what it is like to work here people. Crazymaking and crying!), that I haven’t had time to do ANYTHING after work but drink and smoke furiously on the rooftop of Bartender Dude’s bar and BITCH to him. HA. He thought all these extended summer bartending shifts would get him AWAY from the complaining. No dice.

This past weekend (Labour Day) we went to TWO WEDDINGS in less than 24 hours. Well, technically we only went to one wedding and two receptions. Please, people! We are professional booze-hounds. So the first wedding was outside and it was LOVELY, it was PERFECT, it was…….directly in the face of the setting sun which blinded all the guests making it impossible to see what was going on. Also, right at the beginning? The sound system fuffed up. So we couldn’t hear a damn thing either. So here we all were, shielding our eyes even with sunglasses on, craning our necks to pick up even the slightest “love” and “forever” and “honor” and “please see Nuptial Agreement page 437,” straining with every nerve to have some kind of memory to take away of the ceremony (or at least be called upon as reliable witnesses that a marriage actually took place) but to no avail. However, the reception ROCKED. Kids everywhere, and booze everywhere (though not in the same place), and food and dancing and Cheesy Microphone Guy. Lots of ex-ravers and Georgetown Uni grads and professional bartenders and restaurant people all catching up and revealing (unwittingly) just how responsible they’ve become since they stopped doing all the drugs. But damn these people can PARTY. One guy split his trousers trying to breakdance. I also recall moving from the reception to a bar and then to a hotel room, and then to OUR hotel room where I had to undress the BD who was unconscious on the bed as soon as he hit it from a dead stand.

The next morning (hey, it was 11:30 so it counts as morning), we dragged ourselves out of bed and threw our crap in the car and drove like maniacs back up to DC (oh, right, from Richmond), attempting to make second wedding. But we didn’t. And then, because BD was anxious, he decided we would go straight to the reception and not change. I thought, well, he knows these people and it must be casual enough and full of tons of people he knows who will not care, so I’ll go along with it.

That was a COLOSSAL, MONUMENTAL MISTAKE.

We arrived at this swank hotel in DC wearing clamdiggers and flip flops (me) and jeans and an open neck shirt (BD), where everyone and I mean EVERYONE was dressed to the nines. There was tulle, people. There were wide sashes made of taffeta and black morning suits and flashes of hand-tooled beadwork. There were winking crystals on the shoes and wrists and in the ears. THERE WAS VELVET. So we forged ahead and got to the bar to get a drink and by this time murmurs are literally going through the crowd (and you all KNOW how girls look at each other with that withering contempt. YES YOU DO.), and BD announces to me that he actually only knows four people there. Two of whom are the bride and groom and like they have time to talk to US. And I’m like, okay let’s just stand here next to the remaining two people you know. Which we did until BD decided to go downstairs to see if so-and-so was tending bar (he knows everyone in the city I swear) and the two people I (sort of) know get caught up in this other conversation and kind of have their backs turned to me and by this time the staff with silver platters of canapes are totally passing me by, as I stand there against the wall, with my expensive drink in one hand, wearing my clamdigger trousers and flip flops. Alone. With absolutely no one near me except people with their backs turned to me.

And then the wedding coordinator comes up to me, with a pert but frozen smile in her pert icing green suit, and says “Can I…..HELP you with something?”

DYING.

OF.

SHAME.

So I said, “No that’s okay thanks,” and hightailed it downstairs to the bar with BD where I nearly skewered him with rage and cocktail sticks. “I HAVE BEEN KICKED OUT OF A WEDDING RECEPTION. FOR SARTORIAL TRESPASSING!!!!!!! This is a fate worse than death! I AM CHANELBABY!”

Oh but I forgave him.

So the long and short of all this, all these weddings, and all this travel, and all this madness that has been happening is two big things have emerged (though not really related to the weddings and travel and madness):

1. I am actively applying for other jobs.
2. Bartender Dude and I have decided to move in together.

YAY! Yes Internet, we reeeaaallly love each other and despite episodes that would make any sane couple KILL EACH OTHER we are still sappily, madly, crazily in love. We are apartment hunting now. We have NOT told my parents yet, because why bring on my father’s untimely death by heart attack until we’ve paid a security deposit?

I mean, that would be downright IMPRACTICAL.

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