Reality is bleak compared to the wedding week I just experienced…maybe :)

With the bride

I’ve spent the past nine months planning for my college friend Dyanna’s wedding. Before you laugh that her engagement was exactly the same amount of time as a normal-term pregnancy (relax, squirrels, she’s not having a baby right now), consider the amount of energy we’ve invested in this big event. If you’ve ever been part of a wedding, you know exactly how weird it feels to have the entire thing over in one night after immense preparation and thought. I’m sad the highly anticipated day is now a moment in history rather than something I can look forward to. I mean, how many times can you watch one of your closest pals say “I do?”

That’s where I am right now. Just as I was moving from D.C. to New York last fall, Dyanna called to say her long-term boyfriend Kyle had just proposed. We knew right away that they were soulmates, but the engagement rolled around before I was ready to be a maid of honor…or so I thought. Dyanna asked me to take on the major role, which I accepted in a heartbeat, but I didn’t think I’d do a good job. There she was, settling down with the love of her life and I hadn’t had a boyfriend since 2007. What did I know about nuptials? I worried my lack of knowledge and experience in the realm of true love would make me a poor MOH candidate, but it wasn’t until this week that I learned I couldn’t have been more wrong about that. You don’t need to be a bridal expert to guide a friend through her wedding. You just have to be a solid support system willing to do anything to make the wedding experience as magical as possible for the couple. That was my goal for this week, and I’m proud to say Dyanna was pleased and said I was the most attentive, dedicated MOH ever. It wasn’t until I held her elegant gown above the toilet that I felt like an initiated bridesmaid, but we did a lot of fun stuff before that.

The maid of honor and junior bridesmaid

Aside from typical desert rain, which is said to be good luck, the gathering was perfect. Same with the bachelorette party. I’ve never met a pair my age as happy as Kyle and Dyanna, who text messaged each other all day and even minutes before the show began. They did the same during their bachelor and bachelorette bashes. I find it incredibly sweet that they care so much about each other that they always want to be in contact. Though I did not tear up at the actual ceremony, I lost it when they traded gifts through a door ten minutes before the ring exchange. Their dynamic is incredible and infectious. I’d love to have it for myself someday, hopefully sooner rather than later. If you haven’t noticed, my cynicism bubble expands daily and has actually prevented me from seeing the positive in people.

We all entered the reception dancing to “Party Rock,” and all was well until I tripped on the stage after bouncing around with my spazzy moves. Did I mention everyone was watching? What am I, Lizzie McGuire all grown up? God help me. Before that, I let the “f” bomb slip in front of the adorable flower girl and Dy’s 12-year-old junior bridesmaid. This is why I’m not fit to have children for at least seven years. Even my nephews have called me out on my foul language.

Thankfully, my speech went fairly well and brought the bride and groom to tears. I was overcome with emotion myself but kept going. Anything for her!

Perhaps the most surprising part of the night — for me — was the bouquet toss. I caught the damn thing without even trying. It landed in my fingers and began to fall, but I was able to catch it by its ribbons. That made Dyanna very happy. I’m nowhere near ready to tie the knot, but we both feel this means something good is bound to happen. Or the bouquet toss is just rigged. I mean, isn’t everything these days?

I know, I’m a dork

At the beginning of the night, I said I did not wish to return to my life in NYC. Work is great and no one is cooler than my roommate, but I’ll always and forever be a southwestern and Golden State girl. I will never be an east coast person, much less a northeasterner. Ironically, I spent my first year and a half of college crying every time I had to return to UA from the bay area. I became homesick and never wanted to be away from northern California beauty. Now I burst into tears at the thought of departing Tucson. Is it going to be the same with New York in a couple of years? Perhaps, but I do not see myself getting past the BS weather of the east. Ever.

And yet I say goodbye to the dirty T with a sense of hope. I can tell I have lots of amazing experiences ahead of me in NYC, so I won’t rule it out as a decent place to live for a while. After all, I’ve only been there for nine months. I’m just getting started. Time to sit tight and revisit my habit of smiling at everyone.

With Reza
Large eyes! With Kendra

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