Sometime between when I got to the church and the time the wedding started the temperature went from 60 to 30. As we all left it was sleeting rain and we had to get to the reception located at some mega-barn out in the country. The beer was hidden in coolers outside and they asked us to pour the beer into cups because some people there didn't approve...but all they had for cups were clear plastic obviousness.
As well as the beer being outside in the sleeting rain, so were the bathrooms--port-a-potties... I tried to hold it as long as I could, but of course it was inevitable. I ran out in my poofy purple dress, door swinging against my strength in the wind, finally getting it shut, my ass almost freezes off--why I was drunk enough to think it reasonable to sit all the way down is beyond me.
Eventually we leave. We drive back to the hotel in half snow/half sleet and I get no sleep the rest of the night. My parents were noisy, making Ryan move ever 2 seconds, which woke me up making me move and OMG it was a repetitive cycle. Then my dad turns the TV on at like 5:30 a.m. And doesn't even think to turn the volume down--probably because he's almost deaf and thought the volume was low to begin with... in any case we leave shortly after I stuff myself with the free breakfast bar.
We drive through the worst snowstorm I have ever had to drive through. Eventually I make my mom drive my car. It takes us like 6 hours to finally get home...more than double the time it would normally take a person to drive there. Oh and can I mention that my car smelled like a dead animal? That really added to the amazingness of the day.
What I am really getting to is that the wedding and the reception and the storm and the driving and all of that combined to create some sort of major stress that literally made me vomit all night. Yes. For the past few days I have been sick sick sick and I'd like to blame it on the patriarchy. I know it's not logical. I'm sure I just picked up a bug from one of the jesus-loving-conservatives at the wedding...but I keep having all these terrible nightmares ever since the wedding event, and since I wake up from those nightmares having to puke my guts out I'd like to just go ahead and blame it on fundamentalists-- I don't think people blame them for enough things. I wouldn't have picked up this virus if the preacher would not have used the Adam and Eve rib story to marry my BFF. Nor would I have gotten this virus if he would have not scoffed saying "I remember when Kelsi wanted to grow up to be a senator, the next president, an artist, haha" LIKE SHE CAN'T NOW. ERGHH. Luckily I am puked-out or I would puke again just writing this memory--and luckily that is what it is a memory. I can now move on with my life and not let it happen again.
Just to clarify, if you have not got it yet, do not invite me to your wedding if your dad is going to give you away and your preacher is going to be a misogynist oppressor of women. I can only do that once in my lifetime. Thank you.
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