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thought i was a donut, ya tried to glaze me

6.16.2008

next in line

For those of you who weren't there, and haven't heard, I caught the bouquet at my good friends' Maria and John's wedding this past Saturday.

I am in no rush to get married (at all). And even though I just went to two weddings on two consecutive Saturdays (one I hardly remember, for which I blame the Vodka bar), I don't have the same cynical view on marriage that I once had. There is something undeniably sweet about two people standing in front of the people they love to devote themself to the one person they love the very best. And beyond the food and drinks, and the beautiful people and the dressing up, there are pretty flowers everywhere.

And on Saturday, as I lined up and crowded in with all the other un-married girls, I had only one thing in mind: the flowers. This gorgeous bouquet of orchids and peonies, with a green wrap around it and a dainty detail of white pearl pins, arranged to look like a flower. All of the other girls there might have been thinking about superstition, and about wedding bells, but I was thinking about how great those flowers would look on my dining room table. So as Maria turned her back to us and tossed those flowers in the air, and as I watched it flying towards the group of us, and as all the other girls kept their feet on the ground and lamely threw their arms up-- I leapt up into the air, jumping like I was back in the goal box or on the volleyball court, and grabbed those fucking flowers. I snatched them and held them close. Part of me wanted to jump up and down and yell, "How you like me now bitches?!" I had forgotten all about the awkward garter thing, though, which made me rethink whether or not the flowers were worth it.

You be the judge!


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I wonder if my writing has even improved?