Tuesday, July 21, 2009

The Last Wedding

I think it's possible that I just attended the last wedding of an really close friend.  Okay, maybe I have a few more of those.  But I am fairly certain it's the last time I will attend a wedding in which I am a worker.

That's right, my bridesmaid days are over.  But I wasn't even a bridesmaid this time.  I was the EMCEE.  Which, FYI, is a much harder job that being a bridesmaid.

I was an emcee for my cousin's wedding.  I was only okay at it, I took advice from my mum (no offense mum) and wasn't my usual bubbly self.  I attempted to be smart and emotional, a la Oprah Winfrey.

This time, I knew the couple well.  As in so well, I was the one who got them together.  The Engineer was the best man and best friend of the groom, and I am a very close friend of the bride.  Therefore I got to be much more myself.  And if I do say so, myself is pretty funny.

So here's the biggest difference between being a bridesmaid and an emcee:  the emcee's job STARTS basically when the bridesmaid job finishes.  Or rather, the emcees job starts when the drinking begins.  I was also so nervous all day long, that I only ate a bit of roast beef and an appetizer my friend shoved in my mouth while I spent the two hours between reception and ceremony trying to figure out the projector.  

Granted, I got out of the most boring of all tasks - the picture taking.  I truly dislike the pictures.  Ironic seeing as I love being photographed.  But I really do abhor the posing and smiling, especially when it is 30 degrees outside.  Even the bride at the wedding felt like she left her own party to take thousands of photos.  There is no simple solution to this problem if you want wedding photos.  Comments welcome . . .

Anyways, I was so nervous.  I had empty stomach.  And completely sober.  But that stage actress in my awoke like the beast it is when I got started.  I forgot how great it is performing for a live audience who gives you energy and gets your adrenalin pumping. Oh, and by audience of course I mean guests at a wedding.

There are no real funny stories coming out of the wedding.  Nothing zany.  It was nice, it was fun and as soon as my job was over I was double fisting Growers Cider which could explain the horrific hangover the next morning.  

I did try to set up any single man at the wedding with my girlfriends - seeing as we were at the wedding of my last matchmaking attempt.  In fact, I believe I told one guy he would have NHL babies because her eggs were of NHL breed.  Oh, and I may have performed Spice Girls on the stage.  

The other thing about the last wedding?  I have officially become that girl.  The girl in the long-term relationship who tells the Engineer to get a move on.  The girl who sits at a table where people ask when her time will come. The girl who when the bride says (into the microphone) the 'three of us wondered who would be first, and I guess it's me' is one of those three, and the LAST.  That's right.  I've become desperado.  

More painful than being a bridesmaid for a ninth time . . . .

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