Our Wedding Hop

It's been a lot of months since my husband's friend entered into a second marriage, a year since our son's friend tied the knot, and another year before that, we had attended my nephew's wedding. Being the social outcasts that we are, people aren't banging down our doors to spend time with us. However, something odd happened on Memorial Day Week-end: two of our good friends' daughters got married on the same night, starting at the exact same time, and we successfully attended both weddings!

Knowing that one ceremony would be conducted in the most judicial of manners without much foofaraw, we attended that one first. The bridal party stepped about ten feet into a beautiful, plant filled room, and said your basic English vows--without the word obey. Somehow that important word for grooms has slipped out of the current vernacular. The groom said, "Ouch!" when his beloved slipped the ring on his finger, and she didn't even slap him. My husband thinks she hurt him with the ring, but I took it as him making fun of his new state of holy matrimony. According to Papa-In-Law it was a little of both. He'd burned his knuckle the other day but also has a great sense of humor.

After the vows were complete, we hopped in the convertible and drove a few blocks to the Botanical Garden where the 5:30 wedding had not even begun. We arrived in time to sample a few amazing appetizers, then watched men in black hats dance the groom to the bride so that he could lift her veil and make sure he was marrying the right sister. However, with the bride being a triplet, I have never been able to tell her from her sister anyway. Hopefully, he married the right gal.

The beautiful wedding included a long walk, maybe half a football field, through an outdoor area and Jewish customs such as the bride circling the groom seven times, chanting Hebrew verses, and a smash of a glass. The marriage was conducted by the groom's Orthodox Rabbi father who lives in Israel; however, the groom does not practice Judaism to the degree of his family.

After the vows were exchanged, we hopped back in the car and headed to the first wedding. We enjoyed visiting with a fun crowd and eating fried sweet potatoes; however, I didn't have any of the bacon-wrapped shrimp that I couldn't have gotten at the other wedding. The music was upbeat with Cee Lo, Sweet Home Alabama, and YMCA.  In fact, one dude walked around with an afro wig while the DJ had the folks on the dance floor wearing Village People Hats. The party was a lot of fun, but the other wedding would be serving dinner at 9:30, so we hopped back into the car and off we went.

We arrived to a New York band playing cultural music while people danced on two sides of a wall: men on one side and women on the other. The waiters served a wonderful trout dinner, and then the wall came down. The religious folks left the room while men and women danced together to rock hits. This was the compromise the groom had agreed upon with his family. Amazing!

Needless to say, we had a lot of fun and only missed two notable events: seeing our friend's weird solo dance and the second couple hoisted in the chairs to the tune of the Hora.

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Lost and Found #GBE2

#3 = Lost and Found

I'm not sure exactly when it happened, perhaps in the year 15 BC (before children), my mind started to gradually slip away. It wasn't anything dramatic like space aliens ringing the doorbell and asking for brain samples, but rather a slow deterioration of sanity.

Maybe it started in middle school when the dorks teased me for wearing my sister's powder blue, handi-me-down gym uniform instead of the sexy red ones on sale at school. With the red garbs, one could  turn them around backwards and slide the zipper down low. Ms. "McFeel," the questionable PE teacher didn't seem to mind as long as we wore a PE uniform and took our showers after class. If not the uniforms, perhaps the brain drain came when I was brave stupid enough to get on stage in a flapper outfit and dance the Charleston with Steve Noonan in front of the laughing student body.

"What was everyone laughing at?" I later asked a friend.

"Your costumes," she said.

Yeah, right! I was almost naive enough to buy it. Junior High School definitely chipped a good 10% of mind out of my clueless head.

High school must have taken some more. Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, I got my driver's license and proudly drove into the car next to me in a snowy parking lot. Okay, I wasn't proud of hitting the car (multiple times when the honkers made me panic), but I was proud of the first time being alone in the car, until . . .

Being a mindless teen, I stuck a note about the size of a bobby pin on the damaged car's windshield wiper and crawled home to tell my dad. He took it well. In fact, he took it a lot better than the lady I hit. For the next year, my parents begged and pleaded me to take the car out alone, but by then about 20% of mind went missing, so no can do. I've only been in one other mild fender bender in over thirty years of driving daily, so maybe I found five percent between then and now.

College took more due to a little bit of drinking at parties. Alcohol has been scientifically proven to kill brain cells, so go ahead and remove the five percent I'd found plus 5% more and now I'm down to 75% sanity. Until my boyfriend said, "Will you marry me and live in Memphis?"

Marrying him was actually a fabulous idea, but I question my mental state when I said,"Yes to Memphis." If that ain't love, I don't know what is. Take away another 5% for moving to Memphis and becoming a teacher. A teacher? Did I say, "5%?" Better make that 5% for moving to Memphis and 25% for becoming a teacher. What am I down to now? 45%? Being able to do basic math means I have a little bit of mind left add 5%, but then I got pregnant. Three times. Three children.

Some comedian, can't remember who, once said we lose half of our minds with each child born. That would put me far into the negative category. Just because I scratched my head and hopped like a monkey to get my babies to smile does not mean I've lost my mind? I mean, doesn't everyone do that?

Since this challenge is called "Lost and Found," I must end with the story about how I got it all back. We put the baby on a bus this morning and sent her off to be a camp counselor for the summer. The middle one comes home in five days and stays for a few weeks, but come fall we will be official empty nesters. If that doesn't restore my mind, nothing will!



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A to Z and Back Again

It's already June, which means the Z to A Challenge has ended. A month ago, I reflected on the A to Z Challenge, and now I must reflect again. On the plus side, it's been wonderful having a theme to guided me through the blogging world--the hardest part about blogging is knowing what to write about. A-Z and Z-A has made topic choosing easier.

I have also become an expert at choosing titles to fit the given letter. For example, "From Cage to Convertible" a letter C story about adopting a dog; "Nah, I Won't Do That," an N post to fit the "Laughter is the Best Medicine Blogfest"; or "Oh, No. Not Again" my O post about an annoying Russian dating group who Skypes me. Although these topics have nothing to do with the letter they represent, I've found a way to make it work just like one closes an overfilled suitcase. You sit your tush down and make it happen.

Also through this challenge, I've had the opportunity to visit wonderful blogs and meet great followers. I've also met one foul-mouthed screwball, but that's another story. ;-)

On the negative side, everyday blogging is not necessary. Most people don't make rounds everyday, so why write so much? In fact, my Saturday posts received the most hits because folks had two days to explore. I would like to continue blogging regularly, but leave a new post up every other day.

I hope y'all will continue to visit even though the challenges are finished. Seems like just yesterday, it was April 1st and I was interviewing Agent Harold Baer for my first A to Z post. If you haven't read that one, it's one of my most popular posts. It's especially helpful for you writer types, like me, who are trying to get published. He's a wonderfully unique agent! Check him out.

If I could get you to read any post from April or May, I would like for you to read B for Backing Israel because there are a lot of facts I'd like the world to know about this fragile situation.

Thanks!
Joyce