May 19, 2012
Red, white, and the blubbering blues
Today was the most upsetting day I could have imagined. Not to self- never get married on a Saturday. Or on a military base of any sort. And leave three hours early as opposed to only one.
This morning started off well enough. Got up. Watched a little television with the bf. Trudged through a bit of American Gods before getting dressed. Today was Justine's wedding, so I dressed extra nice. Only, I didn't have a cardigan to match my fancy dress, so TJ and I hurried out the door to stop at Old Navy on our way to Hampton. Once the much needed cardigan was obtained and my shoulders covered, we hit the interstate at precisely 12:15, which was an hour and fifteen minutes before the wedding. For those of you not familiar with this area, Hampton is about 20 miles from my house. Seventy-five minutes should have been plenty of time to drive 20 miles, even if we hot traffic. Wrong. We didn't get off the interstate again until 1:20. It was the most ridiculous thing in the world. There weren't even any obvious accidents or road construction. Yet there was a 12 mile backup. But you know what, as frustrating as it is, tunnel traffic is a norm around here. Not much to be done about it.
Anyway, so there we were speeding off the exit ramp to try and make it to this wedding in 10 minutes. Unfortunately, Justine's husband is in the Air Force and they decided to have the wedding on base. I just want to say right here and now I never plan on stepping foot on another single base again as long as I should live. We got to the gate at exactly 1:25. Maybe we could've sat down right before the wedding party marched. just maybe. That's what I kept telling myself anyway. That is until the lady at the gate told us we couldn't pass and had to go to the west gate where the visitor's center was. Are you kidding me?! Okay, so we follow her directions and they take us nowhere. So we're driving all around fucking Hampton trying to find this gate, trying to get to this wedding, calling and texting people for directions to much ado. Finally, Artist calls me to tell me that the wedding was over and they were headed to the reception.
Now, I must say that after being in traffic for so long and being rejected at the gate and getting lost, my frustration was getting the best of me. Tears were starting to stream down my face quietly. After that phone call, the flood gates opened and I was just balling. I was angry, frustrated, cursing the skies and the tears came unbidden to cope with my ever growing anxiety at missing the wedding. Then I had several thoughts about how I was a fuck-up and the rest of my life would have little incidents like that forever and ever...which brought more tears. TJ, bless him, tried to comfort me for a second about how none of it was my fault. But his own frustration was getting the best of him after driving around in circles and it wasn't long before the both of us got a little snippy.
Then I realized that Justine never even told me where the reception was and we drove around in more circles until We got a hold of someone that could tells us.
Lordy be, I was ready to turn around and go home. Or go to a bar. Or go lay down in a cemetery. But finally we got to the reception and snacked on some cheese and bruschetta for an hour before the bridal party decided to show up so we could eat.
Unfortunately, we did not stay long enough to see the cake cut. We ate, we listened to toasts, we saw the dances, and then the twins and Donald were ready to go (he had a bachelor party to attend all the way in Richmond). Plus, TJ was pretty antsy because the wedding was pretty...ahem conservative? Lack luster? It was pretty, but the guests were not very energetic. Which meant that my little table, including TJ, kept talking about how our own weddings will be. He kept mentioning barns and blue grass because he knows that's the kind of wedding I want and I couldn't help but start planning it in my head with him as the groom. But that's neither here nor there yet. No need to rush that right now.
So we left prematurely after all that trouble and hit traffic on the way home. Another hour to drive 15 miles this time. At least there was no crying on the way home.
God bless it!
scullerymaid at 6:44 p.m.