in her mother's dress. beautiful.
so the question i've been asking myself since The Wedding is: is blacking out the gods way of giving you a free pass?
yeah, yeah. i know your answer to that one. however, this time (not that i make a habit of this sort of thing) it kinda feels like it was. a little gift from above, saying, you made it here, it's done, you can let go.
i mean, really. i am a damn fine imbiber. i enjoy a cold beer. love a cocktail on the beach. i lust over a perfect bloody mary. i dream of sweating Kilimanjaros in the African twilight. while i don't often go crazy, i have had my share of wild nights all over the world. so why, on this occasion, with barely 4 drinks over an 8 hour period did i manage to lose an entire evening?
well, let's just say there was a heck of a lot of stress on this wonderful televised weekend. some i brought with me-- though the "gay hell" :) of my dear friend's first fashion show all night before was not one of those stresses and is a story for another time.-- most i walked into disembarking at LAX.
there are too many awful stories to tell, somehow squashed into 72hr period. and some are not my stories to share. the main lesson though, is tv producers have only one priority and it won't be yours.
wonderful event i last attended. a complete, honest to goodness orthodox ceremony, full of pomp and circumstance.
from the ornate church, to the greek cantor singing, and the careful attention to procedure, my biggest concern was not being struck down for all my wickedness.
not that it was free from the TLC debacle touch. there was a moment of impending catastrophe when one of the TLC photogs started to cross into the inner alter sanctum that literally no one but the priest is allowed to enter or fear the wrath. i hesitated a moment too long for maria's parents' sanity, for fear of crossing the magical line myself, before reaching in and pulling him to safety.
we had some time after the church ceremony to reach and prepare for the second course. i maybe should have taken a nap in the limo. having pulled an all-nighter, then a very late night with the rehearsal dinner and catching up with long missed UI lovies, a very early morning with the stylists, not to mention jet-lag, a nap--even in my bridesmaid dress--might have helped in the whole let's-remember-this-evening plan.
ah well. hindsight.
instead we took the limo to the cali favorite In & Out. i had half a milk-shake. again, smart? no.
the second location for the day was a mansion high up in the hollywood hills. the guests had a large open lawn to mill around while waiting -endlessly- for the ceremony. the cliff side pool served as the open air alter. guest rooms made for bridal party respite and the wide courtyard made for bar, dinner, and dancing.
on television, i'm told, it looked like a dream. i haven't yet seen it myself. my outlook on the place, what little i remember, is marred by the series of disasters, from stupid scripted mess-ups, to down right life endangering f*ck ups.
guests hike the mountain after 2nd bus breaks down
it probably would have helped if someone on that production crew had realized prior to the actual event that the mansion was in a cell-phone dead zone and that the crews' walkie-talkies would only work within a few feet range. maybe some of the mess could have been easily resolved before it affected the rest of the evening.
the "party bus" waits patiently for the firemen to fix things above
i often write here about memory and the creation of reality.
what is more important? what is more true?
is it lisa's, who brought a calm touchstone in the midst of girly hysteria all weekend? is it mimi's, who overran incompetent caterers from poisoning the bride's family? maybe brent's, whose full bottle of maker's mark was an empty bottle before the over delayed tv ceremony even began?
i hope it is not my fellow bridesmaids', whose drama erupted, melting everything in its path. surely maria and jeff's parents get some say, though they might not want the paramedics or panic attacks marked for all time.
the "happy" couple's memories should get most weight. and there are lovely pictures of the stunning bride and handsome groom to help cement those memories. though, as my best friend, i would wish away the heartbreak, the frustration, the sobs from maria's truth.
of course my own plays like reel-to-reel, where the projectionist has lost the second case.
not so TLC's "reality." it has been captured, cut, and recombined. it has been smoothed to a glistening 47 minutes of dreamy perfection. where a couple's "wish" to have fantasy only hollywood can provide is maybe the only thing that was really delivered. a fantasy.
twenty years from now, which will remain?
as long as no one shares a certain tape, my guardian something-or-other decided my reality never needs to include a certain speech.
classy ladies always cry.
classier ladies save each other.