In my attempt to clean out my closet so to speak, I have discovered a lot of precious memories. This one was found in the form of an English 1010 paper written during my first semester at Dixie. I love how much I am entertained by myself... reading this thing seriously cracked. me. up. And Hillary, if you are reading this, I love you, and I hope none of this offends you... :)
My Best Friend's Wedding
My best friend's wedding. Every time I say those words, I think of Julia Roberts and Cameron Diaz fighting for their main. But for me, it just about sums up the end of my summer. Ever since we became friends in high school, Hillary and I have been inseparable. We've shared Cokes, we've shared clothes, we've shared lives.
When she first told me she was getting married, I was ecstatic. I am a sucker for weddings, so the opportunity to go to another was something to look forward to. Her choice of life partners left something to be desired (at least in my eyes), but if she was happy, then I guess I could be too.
As the time grew near, however, I began to grow more and more uneasy about the whole thing. I had dreams about her running away on the big day (hmm, sounds like another Julia Roberts movie to me...) and our other best friend, Gus, also asked me if I thought Hill would really follow through with it.
Maybe a week before the wedding, Hillary herself called me up, worried she might not be doing the right thing. I told her what it would take and the sacrifices she'd be making, but she concluded, "I love Matt. I know I do. I'm sure we'll be fine." I didn't feel too reassured.
Matt just didn't come off as the greatest kid to me. And he was indeed a kid. Nineteen and didn't have a clue what he was doing in life. He smoked, he drank, and he scared me to death when he got pissed off. The fact that he graduated from Job Corps to be a welder for a living, didn't exactly impress me much, either.
The day we went to the bridal shop to try on our bridesmaid dresses, I about flipped. They were the ugliest color of green I had ever seen! Not only that, but they were so tight and restricting, I wasn't sure I'd be able to walk up the aisle in it, much less breathe while trying.
We all giggled about it, and formed a line to help each other zip up the backs. Just our typical girl bonding. We joked that we needed to have one last girls' night before the big day because we would never get the opportunity again.
We set a date, although it didn't turn out to be the old, girly high school sleepover complete with chick flicks and makeovers like we had planned. Instead we went out to eat at the Olive Garden where we stuffed ourselves full of shrimp and pasta. Then we watched "The Wedding Planner" (the bride-to-be falling asleep halfway through it), and went our separate ways.
I didn't think the whole "end of summer, right before school starts" idea was all that hot, and when I got a call from Hillary two days before the wedding saying I needed a date, I flipped out yet again.
"Are you serious?!" I inquired. "Who says you need a date to your best friend's wedding? Couldn't you have told me this a little sooner?" I mean, I've got a few guys around, but none who want to drop everything to walk me up the aisle in a tux. "Well you can always use my twelve-year-old little brother..." Hillary giggles. "But you most definitely need an escort."
So the search began. Everyone was either working or going to school somewhere far away. I must say, I'm not one for luck. But finally an eligible bachelor swung my way. Good ol' Stuart, my long time ago ex. Who cares that he recently dated Gus who dumped him for her new boyfriend who did I mention? is her escort for this wonderous occasion. Talk about life drama. Good thing my friends are chill and didn't really make a big deal of it.
Ten-o-clock on a Saturday morning, rehearsing the ceremony, wasn't exactly how I planned on starting my day, either. The next hour was spent searching for love songs to compile onto a CD for the recception later that evening. Of course, me and Gus took way longer than expected and had all of ten minutes to put ourselves together complete with hair and makeup. I must say we did a pretty darn good job. The smell of singed hair, deoderant, perfume and hair spray won't soon be forgotten.
Then for the drive to Hillary's. The ceremony started at one, but pictures were at noon, all in her neighbor's backyard. We sprinted up the porch steps, and the moment I opened the door and saw Hillary getting ready, I gasped. She looked exquisite, her hair in cute little curls, and wearing lipstick, the first time that's happened since I've known her.
Then it was time for dresses. Us bridesmaids squeezed into ours then it was time for the big one. The whole time I just had to be closest to Hillary. I am after all her best friend. I have rights, right? Her mom just glared. I helped Hill slip into her dress, but not before she showed us all her "blue" superman underwear. What a champ.
We loaded her into her mother's "midlife crisis" convertible, looking very much like Wedding Barbie or Miss America, only ten times more gorgeous. Then it finally hits me. In a half hour, my best friend is going to be married. The one who's grown up being my "twin." The one I cry to, the one who loves me for the wacko I am, because she's just as crazy. The one who bitch slapped me in Driver's Ed in front of the whole class cuz she thought I was trying to steal her man. Soon everything will be different.
We drive across the street and unload all the poufs of satin and lace and lower this lovely girl to the ground. We spend a few minutes taking pictures and hugging before the final moment. Then it's here... We're walking up the aisle. We take our seats and the two of them stand there. Matt and Hillary, eyes sparkling at each other, looking very much in love.
They take their vows, they cheesily kiss, then he walks her back up the aisle, now as husband and wife. It's all over. I always figured I'd be first, but sure Hillary would be the one to prove me wrong. I lost my best friend that day. So young and crazy. But she seemed happy. I hope with all my heart it stays that way. If not, Matt will have a run in with all us bridesmaids. And I can guarantee we won't be wearing those hideous dresses.
