- The pianist was drunk
- And there were 5 bridesmaids
- And a maid of honour
- And a flowergirl
- And the pianist was drunk
- And the bridesmaids smirked through the entire ceremony
- And the pianist was drunk
- And nobody in the wedding party took the wedding seriously
- And the pianist was drunk
...the wedding was okay. Contrary to what the program read, "Cannon in D" was not played, nor was "Canon in D;" the bride instead processed down the aisle to repeated strains of the opening measures of "The Surprise Symphony," as picked out on the piano by a high school music teacher who has seen better (READ: LESS INEBRIATED) days. The bride couldn't keep from laughing as she swore to submit to her husband; the bridesmaids snickered through the entire wedding, and it was as though they were shooting a film and we were all extras.
I've known the bride since we were 6, and most of the bridesmaids for years, and a part of me felt funny at the fact that they were asked to stand there and I wasn't (that one? that bridesmaid? yeah, she and the bride quit talking years ago. They had lived together and then one moved out in a fit because they couldn't stand each other). And part of me felt funny that I was invited to be a part of this day when I hadn't been invited to be any part of her life whatsoever for the past 7 years. And then when the jealousy reared its ugly little head, I quashed it (horribly enough) by telling myself that THAT bridesmaid, that one with the fake Jamaican tan and fried hair, the one who wrecked a few friendships and was the self-proclaimed goddess of the group, yeah, she has the tan now, but man, when she's 60 years old and a wrinkled mess, my skin will still be smooth. Pasty white and emitting a radioactive glow, but wrinkle-free.
And it all makes me very sad.
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