Bride Elect (Evolution of a Bridezilla)
Chapter Twenty-Three—Crying Like a Girl
Crying like a big’ol’girl during my Hostless Bridal Luncheon thank-you speech was only the beginning. This whole wedding thing was turning me into a crier—an ugly crier. All kinds of things were bringing me to tears. Looking at kitten pictures of our cat made me weep because our little boy was all grown up. Finding out that famed soap actress Jeanne Cooper’s sudden passing had me rummaging the house for Kleenex. Looking at my students, as they triumphantly completed their school year with me got me all verklemmt.
I would go on Facebook and look at pictures my cousins would post of their children. These babies would resemble their grandparents, or parents, and I would get all nostalgic. I would be reminded of times past, and I would get all teary. Seeing how happy and well-loved these little ones were and I would keep crying for the sheer joy of such beauty. I would reminisce with my oldest nephew of times past when he and his cousin were just little toddlers finding all kinds of mischief, and know what I would do? I would tear up.
My passive research seemed to be the one thing that would mollify me—or at least zombify me. As long as I was watching that stuff, it was pretty hard to trigger any kind of crying jags. Watching brides being mind-fucked by the envious and controlling members of their entourage didn’t make me cry, or even want to cry. Instead, I felt very grateful that the worst thing people in my inner circle wanted to do was to foist unsolicited gifts onto me.
Palucid was not mollified by my mollification. He had seen all he needed to see and was starting to get slightly annoyed by my continued passive research. After all, we had our venues, our outfits, and many of the other logistics all sorted out. As far as he could see, my passive research was turning into more of an indulgence. Of course, he really seemed to miss many of my more emotional moments—or more accurately, I had many of my more cry-baby moments in his absence.
For example, one day, while driving to work, I thought it would be genius to multi-task. I was playing my MP3 to consider songs for our wedding ceremony. Palucid and I are both fond of Eva Cassidy’s rendition of “Fields of Gold”, but we wondered if maybe it wasn’t too long to have as the procession to the altar. As I listened, and as I paid attention to the song’s total running time, I started to envision the whole scene. I saw how, once the song started, that first Palucid’s grandma, parents, sister, and nephews would be seated, then my sister, brother, nieces, and nephews would take their seats. I saw Palucid, and his best man walk down the aisle. Then, I saw my maid of honour, both my parents and I proceed down the aisle. It was beautiful, and it had me full out bawling.
Now Winnipeg has some pretty stern distracted driving laws. If anyone were distracted enough from their driving to notice the bawling idiot in the car next to them, they were either kind, or scared enough to just let me be. By the time I got to work, I needed to take several deep breaths before the sobbing and quivering lower lip stopped. My eyes still looked red and puffy. I decided to walk into work acting all mellow and hungry, hoping people would come to conclusions other than I spent my drive to work bawling like a baby.