I consider myself lucky enough to have witnessed many friends vow their love to each other on their wedding day. It's a beautiful moment in life to see that (hopefully) happy couple take a monumental step in not only their relationship, but in their individual lives.
And then comes the reception. No offense, but it's probably the most anticipated part of the whole event. Drinking, dancing, meeting that cute single girl/guy (for me!) .. And there's always that one family member that's had one too many drinks, one friend that shouldn't have busted that move on the dance floor, awkward hook ups between bridesmaids and groomsmen and then there's me. And the bouquet toss.
The whole day was a mess of nerves for me. It felt like I was getting ready for prom. Seriously. It was the first time my ex and I had broken up and I knew that he'd be in attendance for our mutual friends wedding. I tanned, got my hair done, spent a little extra time putting on my makeup .. the whole deal. This was it, this was my opportunity to show him what he was missing and my first part of the plan totally worked. After the ceremony he approached me to tell me how "wowed" he was by my 'beauty'. Awesome, ceremony down. Now all I had to do was make it through the reception without letting his presence bother me, easy feat right?
Open bar = big problem. Who can say no to a glass of champagne or maybe even say, 4? Plus you just absolutely have to mix in some vodka sprites. I was holding my ground - a little laugh here, a little smile across the room and twirl around with champagne glass in hand (oh god LHB I hope you ate something), clap politely after speeches and "Oh, I'm sorry I'm flirting with the groomsman sitting next to me on my right while you shove your mouth full on your left" .. And then he told me he was leaving.
Is there a better phrase than "beer tears"? How could he leave me in all my glory on this day that wasn't even mine to go hang out with his 'buddies'. I was completely beside myself and angry that I had lost my cool. So, he defiantly walked out of the country club and left me standing alone in the lobby, tears streaming down my face. I had to pull it together (bathroom). As soon as I walked out of the bathroom it was announced that the bride would be tossing her bouquet. What a perfect distraction.
My roommate was already on the dance floor, in the front of the massive flock of single ladies and I dashed up to be a part of the action. The bride smiled, turned, did a little wiggle and threw that bouquet up, up aaaand here I go ...
All I could think was "catch it, catch it .. it's just like football - take it down - reach - grab it - don't let go - better, faster, stronger". Well, I guess my roommate was thinking the same thing. She locked her hands around the stem just as I did and before we even really could understand was happening (I thought I was T.O. and caught the hail mary touchdown pass from Romo), hit the floor and were down for the count. Little did I know that not only did everyone get a show of me mauling my roommate for a stupid bouquet, but my backside was fully exposed as I laid laughing in the middle of the dance floor. In front of all the guests. That included grandmas.
I blame my exertion of aggression on my ex. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have felt the need to compete, win and conquer or let my behind become the butt of jokes for the next month - "So, is LHB going to show you her a** tonight, eh?". And the photographer wouldn't have pictures of us jumping in the air 291, 292, oh whoops skipping 293 & 294 because those are inappropriate (just imagine the frontal view), now they're on the floor 295 & 296.
Not to mention the videographer ...