Today I attended the wedding of my boyfriend's older brother. My boyfriend, Chris, was the best man, which meant I was involved in the preparations and rehearsals. I even ran the Livestream of the wedding for people who got stuck in traffic or couldn't make it. I'm pleased to report the Livestream was apparently excellent quality, despite the technical difficulties. You could see all the people, including the patient musicians, and hear all the words being said. This was actually a feat, because I was back up in the balcony, trying desperately to hold still, not jiggle the camera, and stabilize the spotty wifi by sheer force of will alone.
The wedding itself wasn't actually that bad. It was stressful trying to set up the webcam and get the right angle and fuddle with the shoddy wifi, but once everything was set up, it was just a matter of keeping the setup running and hitting "start" at the right time. It was the reception that was painful. It's no surprise, perhaps. All those strangers, barely familiar faces you should recognize, all the social etiquette. Besides Chris' family, some of whom I'd never met (and was promptly introduced to... ugh), there were all of the bride's family and various friends.
The bride and groom were kind, and put me at a table with people I knew and appreciated. I've had other weddings where I've just been amidst people I didn't know and spent a lot of time trying to pretend I didn't exist. In any case, Chris' family is... enthusiastic. I was flagged down by a relative I'd met before, who promptly shepherded me to a new table full of her children. That was the most awkward 15 minutes this week, if not this month. In addition to trying to remember social etiquette, I had to shout to be heard over the overpoweringly loud music, and strain to hear responses.
Apparently no one told the sound guy that people like to hear each other talk. Well, most people like to hear each other talk. By the middle of the reception, I wanted to hide in the carefully manicured bushes outside the building. To be clear, both families were very nice, the bride and groom were respectively beautiful and handsome, but I was oversocialized by the time the first two hours were done. Oh, and the reception lasted four and a half hours.
Besides the earburstingly loud music and the extreme amounts of sociable people I couldn't reasonably escape, there was my attire. I wore a dress. I despise dresses. This is the first time I've worn a dress in years. I did so out of respect for the groom and his family, but I am feeling it now. Dresses restrict movement and blood flow, and between that and the fancy shoes, I have sore knees, a hip out of place, blistered feet, and a very sour mood.
Chris kindly took me for a walk, mid-reception, so I could clear my head and feel less like a sardine in a can. We both needed the break. Too much flash photography, too many people talking, too much loud music. At the end of the reception, the music was a little too loud from two rooms away. Chris had actually gone and turned it down on two separate occasions... even some of the (presumably) neurotypical people were complaining. Y'know, politely.
The bride and groom danced beautifully, though. They've both had years of professional lessons, and it showed. They did some very fancy things, spins and partings, maneuvers I don't have words for, all of it smoothly and romantically. I was a little jealous. I'll never be that graceful, I think. My gifts and skills lie elsewhere, I guess.
I'm immensely tired now. I had to write this down before I collapse in bed, though. I think Chris' family probably won't know for years how hard this wedding was for me, but I'd like a record of it. It was a pleasure to attend, but I am now utterly weary. I could sleep for a week.
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