is it just me?

saturday was wedding day. Not mine, of course. Someone else's. Again. Not only did I have an actual wedding to attend on Saturday afternoon, but I spent the morning with my friend who is recently engaged looking for a wedding dress. For those of you who have never done this, it is quite unlike shopping in a normal store where they have all the products in all the sizes available for viewing. In wedding shops they usually only have a couple sizes of each dress, and most of their inventory is hidden from view. You pick out a few that you like, and then you and your entourage (and everyone shopping at these places has a sizeable entourage) go into a little room and you try them all on. You have a "consultant" who's in there to help you. The good ones are the cranky old ladies who are brutally honest and generally right on the money. They are all women (of course) usually older than all the brides to be, and are doing their best to be super sweet without appearing salesmany, which most of them fail miserably at.

Anyway, we were at this place which I found a little creepy. it's decorated like your grandma's bathroom. you can't do anything without an appointment or a consultant. You can't browse, you can't look at shoes, etc. Not to mention that all the consultants are wearing these weird uniforms that look like a cross between bad waitress outfits and something a maid would wear. Anyway, we're in the tiny room just making idle conversation. We're laughing about the El de Barge muzak, which is followed by Lean on Me. We start discussing that this was everyone's eighth grade graduation song for about five years running. Let's face it, cheesy as it may be that song really rang true with all those angst ridden teens of the 80s (myself included). Since my friend was feeling self conscious about dressing in front of all of us, we were trying to distract ourselves (which wasn't too hard). So one girl was talking about Tom Cruise on the Today Show and she said she and the other nurses on the night shift had decided that he's manic depressive and is currently in a manic phase. As we're discussing the merits of this theory the consultant (basically out of nowhere) says "They just like to say things about famous people even if they're not true. I know a famous person nd there's all kinds of stuff about them in the news but in real life they're totally normal. They're not like they say at all."

What the hell. "I know a famous person?" Which one? The local weather guy? You mom's cousin who won the powerball lottery? The unabomber? Somehow I find it somewhat unlikely that she knows a bonafide celebrity. I mean, I met Gregory Peck at a film festival once but I wouldn't tell anyone I know a famous person. So Jen says "Whatever. I know for a fact that Tom Cruise is crazy." She's trying to see if she can drive the consultant crazy. It kind of worked. It was sort of downhill from there and we all made a speedy exit.

On the topic of Tom Cruise, I really have no idea what that guy is thinking. I don't think I would advocate getting engaged after one week together just to prove how in love you are. We're not fooled. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Tom Cruise may think he's famous enough to just do whatever he wants but if he keeps acting like a freak about how much he loves his 15 year old girlfriend (oh sorry...fiancee) and talking about how we all need to get off medication because we have the power to heal ourselves I think he'll figure out that even he can fall from grace. Scientology is a crazy crazy institution that is after your money under the guise of religion. If you're not rich I recommend staying far away. On a final note, as an avid celeb watcher (and People Magazine subscriber) I would like to cast a wholehearted no vote against the whole celebrity couple naming thing. I mean, Bennifer was bad but it was so easy. Brangelina? Come on. TomKat? Now you're starting to piss me off. Please stop this madness immediately.

****

Back to the wedding. It has been unseasonably hot here in Madison, with temperatures in the mid-90s and ridiculous humidity. They were calling for thunderstorms the afternoon of the wedding (don't worry, I am going somewhere with this local on the 8s) so they were screwed either way: it was either going to be a billion degrees or it was going to be pouring. Hard to know what to wish for. What they got was extreme heat. We were sitting on the roof of the convention center, overlooking a lake which was a nice setting, if you could get past the fact that the plastic chairs were so hot that they were sticking to everything. And the ceremony was nice, though compromised for me by the fact that I was trying to decide if my face was actually melting along with taking mental bets about who was going to pass out first: grandma or the groom.

Once inside the lovely, air conditioned reception hall, I see a beautiful thing. It is a martini bar. They have several kinds of martinis, and a giant martini glass ice sculpture which they actually pour the drinks through to chill them. Unfortunately, once you have planned a wedding all you think when you first see something like that is "I wonder what that cost them". But hey - it was there for the taking. The only problem was that it takes a long time to make a martini. It takes even longer if you have to pour it through a funnel in a giant ice sculpture. Now, it is possible that this was all by design to make it take 20 minutes to get your drink which mean you were drinking a lot slower and therefore not consuming as much alcohol. In any case, for those of us who had more than one (or two) the novelty wore off and you started knocking past old ladies trying to get the bartenders to hurry up. But it was a nice thought.

Also at the wedding was a young woman, probably the cousin of the groom or somehting. She appeared from behind to be about 25 and she appeared from the front to be almost certainly under 18. She was wearing a tiny (and I mean tiny) black dress with about as short a skirt on it as you can have and not show your underwear. All the guys were checking her out. To be honest, I am not exactly sure when it became the fashion for young women to dress like hookers, but that is certainly how it is. And at every wedding there seems to be a nice little piece of jailbait. So look out.

Finally, there was one thing that they did at this wedding that I am not sure I agree with. There was a sizeable group of people who were invited to the ceremony, dinner and the reception. Then, apparently, there were other people who were just invited for drinks and dancing at the end of the evening. Now, I am sure in the abstract this seemed like a great idea. They thought it would be fun for these people. I am sure the couple told themselves "that's really the fun part anyway, so they'll think it's great". I don't think so. I mean, then you know you're B list, right? We like you. Not enough to serve you dinner, but enough to give you a drink or two and let you listen to some music. But no cake. Just drinks. And everyone else will already be hammered by the time you get there. And they'll feel superior because they qualified for the whole deal. It's weird. Don't do it. And if someone invites you just for part of their wedding, I might say don't go. But obviously it's up to you. If you want to walk in with loser stamped on your forehead all in the name of free beer, go right ahead.

So, after the wedding I wanted to go home. But this woman who used to work with my husband (as did the groom) is in a band and her band was playing at a place called the Annex. Now, I saw Neko Case at the Annex, but I also know that it is really mostly punk/rock venue. In fact, the current incarnation of the heavy metal band that my high school boyfriend was in (Decrepit Tomb - maybe you've heard of them?) actually played there on tour some time ago. This did not make me want to go. The other thing is that I was in wedding clothes, and not hip hooker wedding clothes. Boring, fancy wedding clothes. And a pink sweater. People don't wear pink cardigans at the Annex. But a bunch of people wanted to go see this girl's punk band. As we parked next to the club I said to my husband "are you really going to make me do this?" Usually that works. That's how I say 'I really really don't want to do this.' Usually he says "okay, we don't have to do it." Not this time. So we rolled in to the annex looking like two huge dorks. I ordered a Budweiser in some attempt to improve my image (it didn't work) though I really really didn't need another drink. So, the girl we know is actually the drummer in the band which is kind of cool. It's just her and two other guys. Truthfully, they weren't bad. Though the show kind of reminded me of all those metal shows I used to go to in Andy Deane's basement when I was in high school. There really weren't very many people there. It's not true punk, more of pop punk. And they had some catchy lyrics. But when they did a singalong (1!2! Fuck you!) and I was still sitting there in my pink cardigan and my warming bud longneck I thought, I'm done. I scraped whatever tiny bit of pride was left and walked out in my pointy high heeled shoes, probably to never return to the Annex again.

As a side note, this band we saw actually won Band of the Year at they Wammys (like the grammys but only for Wisconsin and therefore ever so slightly less prestigious). So they're relatively good. And a few people go see them. And for some reason the girl drummer doesn't have a boyfriend. I would think that a girl drummer in a decent punk band would be a shoe in. Shows what I know.