it's raining flowers

For those of you who know me, you know what a disaster my dating life can be (oh – who are we kidding here – my love life, personal life, professional life – all of it is often a disaster). But for you that means plenty of good laughs.

And so, we go back to this weekend. You see the boyf and I were breaking up – a friendly breakup but a breakup nonetheless. This is a much longer story that may or may not be told at a later date. The important thing to know here is that he had expressed an interest to move on. So, we decide to fulfill all of our couple obligations currently scheduled and then to make no more plans as a couple.

Our last couple obligation was a wedding (his invitation) in Canada. We drive up to Canada and it’s only slightly awkward. I’ve reverted to rather caustic sarcasm. I’ve been told many times it’s funny as long as you aren’t on the receiving end. The boyf was on the receiving end.

The ceremony goes well. We check into our hotel before the reception. We talk, he says too much. I’m crying. I’d like to think he was crying a bit. I’m crying more. I stand there contemplating how a living organ can hurt so much and still function. But not much time for this as I need to dry my eyes, reapply make-up – shimmer eye shadow to hide the previous tears.

I turn to boyf. “Let’s go act like everything is great. Luckily for you, I’ve had enough acting classes to pull this off. Are you going to be able to handle it?” He just looks pale.

The reception goes fine. Our ruse is working.

And then the bouquet toss.

I’m thinking I won’t go up. But then they read my name off a piece of paper. OK – fine, whatever. I’ll go. I take a nice safe place somewhere between rows 2 and 3. There are like 20 women up here – most with boyfriends. It’ll be over soon enough.

The audience counts down, we all look, the bride fakes the throw. Everybody laughs. The audience counts down, we all look, the bride throws it too softly and it lands in the empty space between her and her crowd. Of course, the third time is the charm.

I forget to pay attention and the next thing I know – I’m looking down at my feet and there’s a freaking bouquet between my feet. Not even just in front of me, but IN BETWEEN MY FREAKIN’ FEET. It may have even hit me on the way down, but it doesn’t matter because now I’m staring at the dreaded bouquet between my feet.

Are you kidding me?! What happened to my first two rows of defense?! Why didn’t anyone actually grab the damn thing? Is that what’s supposed to happen? People who want it reach up and grab it?! This whole team should be benched! If I were the coach, there would be some serious hell to pay for this pathetic performance!

I stand there, arms still hanging limply at my sides, and finally raise my head to look at those around me, eyes pleading “anyone? Anyone want to pick it up and be happy?! Please – anyone? Anyone?!”

But no, I’m not getting off that easy. My head’s swiveling back and forth, eyes pleading – and all the happy faces are beaming and excitedly encouraging me to “pick it up, pick it up.”

Oh fine – fuck it. Those acting classes weren’t free. I might as well get my money’s worth.

Look at me – I’m so happy and in love and I even caught the wedding bouquet. Giggle, giggle – now I get to be the next one married. Yay!