Things fall apart

I say right there on my profile that sometimes things fall apart. I'm in one of those places, where everything is in pieces. I don't really feel like posting. And I hope you will all forgive me.

Wedding

I've been absent from my blog because my Dad got married on Thursday (Valentine's Day). The wedding ceremony itself was good but it was sandwiched by lots of stress. I'll have to write about it sometime, but not now. Not yet.

I think weddings in general must be stressful. When one of my best friends from high school (Melody) got married she asked me and our friend Syndee to be her bridesmaids. I went with my Mom to get fitted at a bridal store where Melody was renting dresses. The woman at the store took one look at me and declared me a size 5. (She was the expert. She fitted dresses for a living). My mother assured her that, being well-endowed, I would not fit in a size 5. Of course, I had to put on a size 5 to prove to her that while the rest of my body fit, my chest did not. The dress would not zip up. 

I put on the next larger size, a size 7. It fit perfectly. She made a note in her book and then "humphed." "I was so sure she was a size 5," she told my mother. "It's the bust," my mother explained. 

On the evening of the wedding reception Syndee and I showed up at Melody's house. The dresses were laid out on her bed. We picked them up. We looked at the sizes: size 5 and a size 3. "What size do you need?" I asked Syndee. "A 5," she answered. "But the lady swore I would fit in a 3." Hmmm. Go figure. Obviously she sent the sizes she thought we should fit in. 

My Mom came in. As an expert seamstress she removed the darts and unpicked just enough that I was able to squeeeeeeeze into a size 5 and Syndee was able to squeeeeeeze into a size 3. We took only shallow breaths and didn't eat a thing. It was an uncomfortable night. 

We were young and wanted to go immediately and tell Melody of our dress disaster, but my Mom stopped us. "Don't you dare tell her," she said. "It's her day, it's her wedding. As far as she's concerned everything is perfect." So we never told her, and it was a beautiful evening. She was happy. And as soon as the cake was cut, we were back in jeans and t-shirts. I hope she never wondered why. 

(disclaimer: maybe I fit in a 9 and she sent a size 7 and 5, I don't remember. All I know is that I'd love to fit in any of those sizes now :)

Let us eat cake.

I have a friend named Lynne. She's actually the one who pestered me to start a blog. Lynne is extraordinarily funny, only I don't think she realizes that she is. I am not a funny person. At all. I love that I have Lynne in my sometimes lonely life. I treasure her friendship for a million reasons besides the laughs. But oh, how I love the laughs. If you need a laugh, you must go to her blog and read this entry. It's about cake. 

Claim to Fame

Six months ago, if you googled my name, it would come up on the very first page. I think it still might but it's creeping further down the page. Soon it will be gone completely. The reason it even comes up is because of this essay:

http://segullah.org/summer2007/threads/

I wrote it about my Mom and it was published last year in an LDS literary journal. I'm linking it to my blog as my claim to fame. OK, that, and I haven't written anything else lately.