That’s what my aunt is calling Shelli and I. Our older sister is getting married and we don’t get to be in the wedding. It’s not a huge deal, I suppose, I mean, she’s only getting married once… The truth is, Shelli and I are very girly. We dreamed of our weddings, houses, and husbands before we transferred from baths to showers. We thought about that stuff you’re not supposed to worry about when you’re a little girl, but you do anyway. If we’d have thought it was a good idea, I bet we would have started a wedding planning company in our teenage years to save money for our dream weddings. Of course, as love and weddings are concerned, things don’t always happen like you plan. Shelli got married when she was 21 (and she had been claiming that she’d hold out until she turned 30) and I am currently still single. But our older sister, the one who babysat us, made us PB&J, and took up half of our room for most of our childhood is finally getting married. It’s supposed to be on the 25th of August. Shelli gets in on the 24th and we have finally made a plan. From the airport, the two of us are heading to Target and Fred Meyer and we are going to find ourselves a pair of matching dresses. We picked out our dresses already, but we’re not thinking they are going to work.
Shelli looks cute in this one.
But when I tried it on, my back reminded me of the purple hippo tattoo on my foot and not in a cute way but in a, “Why haven’t you been following the Weight Watcher’s plan kind of way.”
I liked this one.
But the sleeves are a bit long and thus far, August has been a real bear, weather wise. I don’t want my only memories of my sister’s wedding to be that I was pitting out and I tried to put paper towels in the sleeves to reduce the sweat factor.
My mom keeps saying, “You know, the two of you don’t have to match.” I think she’s trying to go with the simple theme Shanna wanted, just immediate relatives, best friends, and bikers. But Shelli and I are anything but simple. We are complicated, wonderful, and energetic. We need togetherness, music, fun, and friendship. Shanna told me the other day that there will be no music at the wedding. “What? Are you kidding me?” Shelli said on the phone this morning. I started to tell her my idea, that perhaps we can have our own dance party before or after the wedding. No matter what, I keep telling myself, I am going to have a good time.
In some ways, I feel like I’m trying to hijack the wedding. This is truly not the case. It’s Shanna’s wedding. I get that, but when you care about someone a lot and you want to be a part of something that you’re not really a part of, you do what you can: interfere. I’m not interfering directly. And no, it’s not subtle, but she’s my sister. She was my hero when I was younger and she used her hero status to get favors out of me for years. She pretty much had me wrapped around her pinky until I was 16 years old. If 16 years of slavery doesn’t make you a bridesmaid, I think a revolt is entirely necessary. Sorry Shanna Bunn, but we’re taking a stand. There will be matching dresses and a dance, even if we have to hang out in the car dancing to music on my iPhone after the ceremony.