8:57 a.m. - 2008-06-23
it was fortold in the stars....
Remember how I said "unless this silly horoscope is a giant warning...HAAHHHH! I've got no problem skipping the power play & going straight to dictator to make this thing go smoothly if that is what the fates decree...." Yeah.
The rehearsal & rehearsal dinner were fine, and fairly drama free. Except for the bride managing her own production, which Sandy didn't get but I understand utterly (shut up, Batten--I had a VISION). So, I give Bridector a pass on not actually meeting me. I don't like to be hassled during "Tech Week" either, or meet new people with enthusiasm and joy, either. Nonetheless, the rehearsal dinner was lovely, as Sandy’s mom was in charge. She understands how these things should work, as well as the work required to make these things happen. (Unlike Bridector’s family, despite this being the last child they are marrying off….) And after the rehearsal dinner (and clean-up therefrom), we retired to Sandy’s parents home for post-dinner drinks and venting.
The groom's mother (who is also Sandy's mother, natch) was a bit cranky about things as she'd been told to "butt out & stop overstepping bounds" for months. Apparently, SandyMom's knowledge of etiquette and the sharing thereof (while necessary) was unwanted (and consequently ignored). Also, SandyMom’s creation of “the two-week countdown list” didn’t win her much love, either. “You’re being too organized!” Yup, SandyMom needed to vent after the rehearsal dinner, proclaiming her expectations of being called in to bail out this production come morning. We mentioned she could say, “No,” but… we knew she wouldn’t.
So when the call came from her son the next morning (“Mom, we’ve got a skeleton crew here…”), SandyMom & Sandy’s dad went. And about 45 minutes later, we got the call from Sandy’s parents. And we went, taking lunch food and a bottle of tequila.
I, being an outsider, decided to help out under the tent. The people there were trying to figure out how to set up the tables for the bridal party (of 19), plus the buffet tables, the cake table, the punch table…. Bridector had a plan. Alas, Bridector had not conveyed said plan, nor drawn up a rough stage diagram for her poor crew to follow. So… I stepped in and drew up where things would go, dictating to the older woman under the tent which tables should go where, taking over setting up the cake table veil (the dumbest thing ever conceived), and in general being my usual beautiful director self. (Look, someone had to do it in Bridector’s absence—may as well be the person they’re never going to see again who has a clue, better known as “me.”)
Eventually, I found out the person I steamrolled was the mother of Bridector. But by then it was too late, so I just kept going the way I’d begun, telling the Groom’s aunts when they arrived what to do, too. Since I had things well in hand, Mom Of Bride, went to work on other things. I did my best to keep my smack-talk to a minimum. And before everyone left to shower & dress for the actual production, MOB did thank me, sincerely, for my ideas and help. Which I accepted graciously, since I had no reason not to. Sometimes, it pays to be the groom’s big sister’s former college roommate.
The wedding… I’ll get to later.
