The Weekend Of Wedding Awesomeness

The weeks flew by. After unanimously deciding upon the bridesmaid dresses, I dutifully ordered and paid the deposit on my gorgeous, chocolate brown Watters and Watters dress. I shopped for the shoes I’d wear on the big day and continued to plan for the bridal shower, keeping track of RSVPs and making lists of any last-minute items I might need. Finally, the Weekend of Wedding Awesomeness, so dubbed by the bride, had arrived. The plan was straightforward enough: get drunk Friday at the bachelorette party, use Saturday to sober up, and attend the shower Sunday at noon. Everything was on schedule to be perfect. And then, family happened.

Armed with a guidebook and map, my partner’s family chose to visit the same weekend as the Weekend of Wedding Awesomeness. I explained the situation and, to my relief, my in-laws were understanding and accommodating. Though I desperately wanted to spend time with my seven-year-old niece, I knew my commitment was to Danielle. This, after all, was her weekend and I wasn’t about to ruin it.

Minus a few hiccups, the bachelorette party went well. I’ve never been the best around large groups of new people, so it wasn’t terribly surprising that I found myself relegated to the corner for most of the evening. The fact that the other women ignored my attempts to join in was disappointing, but I didn’t let a little off-kilter chemistry get me down. My priorities were set on Sunday’s bridal shower.

Oh, the bridal shower.

This was my chance to seriously fulfill the role of bridesmaid. I would kiss-ass, charm, entertain, and delight not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I took my role as bridesmaid seriously and hoped Danielle would realize just how dedicated I really was.

I don’t have a car, so Danielle and Sam—who had flown in for the weekend—picked me up at my home bright and early Sunday morning. With a sheet cake, 72 rolls of toilet paper, and three bags full of games, prizes, decorations and favors, I made my way out the door blissfully ignorant of the trouble ahead. Danielle drove the 60 minutes to her mother’s house, and, just as we were pulling up, the other bridesmaids, Elizabeth and Jennifer, arrived.

The bride’s mother immediately greeted us and helped us into the kitchen, where Sam and I started preparing for the day’s festivities. There was fruit salad to make, chicken salad sandwiches to put together, decorations to set up and prizes to display. Sam and I worked tirelessly to make everything perfect. Apparently, we were doing damned good jobs because Elizabeth and Jennifer had made themselves comfortable in the living room and weren’t about to leave their Lay-Z-Bridesmaid thrones.

With no time to argue, Sam and I kicked it into higher gear. Drinks still had to be iced, games needed to be set up, silverware, plates, cups, napkins, and favors needed to be positioned. My last task was to put the finishing touches on a game and I needed a computer to do so. I had to print out 20 sheets of paper with questions participants would answer about the bride—something that couldn’t be done until the day of the shower. Murphy ’s Law was, of course, on my side. The computer the bride offered me didn’t have Microsoft Word, so the file I had created prior to coming was useless; I was forced to type out questions in Notepad. Unfortunately, the computer’s 3-in-1 printer printing function wasn’t working, so I resorted to handwriting the questions—all 20 sets of them. As I was doing this, guests were arriving. The shower was about to start and for me, it was a race against time. I heard the bride introducing her guests to her bridesmaids. Just as I was about to greet the group, Danielle loudly proclaimed, “…and the last bridesmaid in the other room putzing around on the computer!”

Putzing!? What? I was so—never mind! I didn’t have time to be angry. The party was starting and it was my goal to ensure everyone had a fabulous time. I smoothed down my dress, took a deep breath, put a smile on my face and entered the guest-filled living room.