featherynscale (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
featherynscale) wrote2005-06-20 09:03 am
featherynscale) wrote2005-06-20 09:03 am
Entry tags:
In Which Our Heroine Returnf To Her Home, Following Great Rudeneff and Diverfe Revelations
Apparently, today shall be Bad Pseudo-Old English Day. Which sort of makes me want to go add a chapter to my Book of Shadows.... but I digress (before I even start, which is something of a feat, even for me).
I'm back from the BlitzGuilt tour of all branches of the family, and the Carnival of Horrors that was my little sister's wedding. This is something of how the weekend went:
I am standing in the airport in Tampa. I know someone is supposed to come and pick me up and take me somewhere, but I don't know who or where. So I'm very, very alert. Then I see an older gentleman with a sign with my name on it. I relax a little - everyone of note is at the rehearsal and can't be spared. This means that I get at least one more hour before anyone can possibly be awful to me. He helps me with my luggage, we get into the car, and head off. He informs me that the rehearsal is running late, so I will be in plenty of time to arrive at the rehearsal dinner. This is good, as one of my concerns about this experience is that I will not have time to eat. We make pleasant conversation for a bit, and it turns out that he's a friend of my father's. Then, before I'm expecting it, the ordeal begins. He says, "So when are you getting married?" Keep in mind that this is a guy my father hired to pick me up at the airport. I say "I'm not, I suppose." He says, "Oh, don't worry. You're still an attractive woman, you've got some time left, you'll find somebody." This man will be the first of approximately seventeed thousand and five people to say this to me over the next day and a half.
Now, there was some variation in the line from time to time, but not a lot. At some point I remember telling my Granny JoAnn (who is a little like Nanny Ogg, except as far as I can determine, not a Witch) that I was following the path of Mae West, whose line on the subject was "Marriage is a fine institution, but I'm not ready to be committed to an institution yet", or something much like that. She grinned and said "But you do have a boyfriend or two, right?" I said, "Yeah, I'm seeing a couple of people", of which she heartily approved. Granny JoAnn is herself notorious in the family for usually having a spare gentleman or two around.
At some point in my second bourbon of the reception (I like bourbon, and in the South nobody gives you shit about drinking it, which is a thing that I like about the South), I had just gone through this conversation with an aunt, an uncle, and a cousin, and I leaned over to my father's wife and said, "Kim, I want you to be my witness on this. The next person that asks me when I'm getting married, I'm telling them I'm a lesbian." She snorted (my father's wife is a Person of Whom I Approve) and said "Just come out of the closet on them? Heh." I am not certain if this meant that she thought I was kidding or not. I give it three months before someone on the other side of the family is calling me in alarm, asking if I'm gay.
So that's fun. Tune in later today for Awful Anecdotes About the Ceremony, the Emergence of Bridezilla, and The Most Alarming Thing That Has Happened To Me In A Really Long Time, won't you?
I'm back from the BlitzGuilt tour of all branches of the family, and the Carnival of Horrors that was my little sister's wedding. This is something of how the weekend went:
I am standing in the airport in Tampa. I know someone is supposed to come and pick me up and take me somewhere, but I don't know who or where. So I'm very, very alert. Then I see an older gentleman with a sign with my name on it. I relax a little - everyone of note is at the rehearsal and can't be spared. This means that I get at least one more hour before anyone can possibly be awful to me. He helps me with my luggage, we get into the car, and head off. He informs me that the rehearsal is running late, so I will be in plenty of time to arrive at the rehearsal dinner. This is good, as one of my concerns about this experience is that I will not have time to eat. We make pleasant conversation for a bit, and it turns out that he's a friend of my father's. Then, before I'm expecting it, the ordeal begins. He says, "So when are you getting married?" Keep in mind that this is a guy my father hired to pick me up at the airport. I say "I'm not, I suppose." He says, "Oh, don't worry. You're still an attractive woman, you've got some time left, you'll find somebody." This man will be the first of approximately seventeed thousand and five people to say this to me over the next day and a half.
Now, there was some variation in the line from time to time, but not a lot. At some point I remember telling my Granny JoAnn (who is a little like Nanny Ogg, except as far as I can determine, not a Witch) that I was following the path of Mae West, whose line on the subject was "Marriage is a fine institution, but I'm not ready to be committed to an institution yet", or something much like that. She grinned and said "But you do have a boyfriend or two, right?" I said, "Yeah, I'm seeing a couple of people", of which she heartily approved. Granny JoAnn is herself notorious in the family for usually having a spare gentleman or two around.
At some point in my second bourbon of the reception (I like bourbon, and in the South nobody gives you shit about drinking it, which is a thing that I like about the South), I had just gone through this conversation with an aunt, an uncle, and a cousin, and I leaned over to my father's wife and said, "Kim, I want you to be my witness on this. The next person that asks me when I'm getting married, I'm telling them I'm a lesbian." She snorted (my father's wife is a Person of Whom I Approve) and said "Just come out of the closet on them? Heh." I am not certain if this meant that she thought I was kidding or not. I give it three months before someone on the other side of the family is calling me in alarm, asking if I'm gay.
So that's fun. Tune in later today for Awful Anecdotes About the Ceremony, the Emergence of Bridezilla, and The Most Alarming Thing That Has Happened To Me In A Really Long Time, won't you?
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
pats on head
"When are you getting married?"
Re: "When are you getting married?"
Probable response
Re: Probable response
Familial Confusion
Oh Wow....
Re: Oh Wow....
Re: Oh Wow....
Re: Oh Wow....
Re: Oh Wow....
no subject