Warning: The following post includes severe stereotyping of Italians, Irish folks, and brides. If you are easily offended, please read with caution. Or, you know, don’t read at all. Up to you! xoxo, Mindbling
CC has been my best friend for over 15 years (regardless of what she said in her previous post and whoever this Lee crackerjack is), so while I had hoped to be Maid of Honor when she got married, I wasn’t banking on it. CC has a lot of friends , a sister in law, and 87 cousins. She comes from this big, huge Italian family, and so does Chilla. I’m pretty sure their wedding is going to be staked out by the FBI, but I digress.
I WANTED to be CC’s MoH, but I was also AFRAID of being CC’s MoH. CC has very high standards, is easily pissed off, and has the anxiety. This is clearly the worst possible combination of characteristics to have in a bride to be. If there was such a thing as a Potential Bridezilla scale, with 1 being a hippie eloping and 10 being a Kardashian, CC would be a 15.
But you don’t tell your best friend no. Not the woman who has stood by your side, had your back, and covered your front day in and day out for 15 years. No. I was doing this. I was fucking HONORED to do this. SIDENOTE: Our good friend Coffee was having her 35th birthday bash at Seven Springs, three days after CC’s dad’s funeral. I told her I was driving, if she was up to going. She hemmed and hawed and then ten minutes before I left called and said, ‘Fuck it. Pick me up.’ I get her, we head north, she looks at me and she goes, ‘You know why I’m going, right?’, and I said ‘Of course. You don’t want to miss anything.’ She flicks her ciggy out the window, points a perfectly manicured nail at me, and says ‘And that’s why you’re my best friend.’
CC went with a small bridal party – me, Hot Mama and SmittyKitty. Win and win. Love them both, they are both super laid back like me, and I am now starting to think that not only is this MoH gig going to be okay, but I’m going to have fun! CC is not only NOT Bridezilla, she is the epitome of the perfect Bride. Not stressing, open to ideas, not yelling, screaming, demanding champagne, etc. Either CC was born to do this shit, or Chilla has been sneaking Xanax in her morning coffee.
So the planning is going just swimmingly. Because CC and Chilla both come from giant, huge Italian families, the decision was made to have the three bridesmaids host the ‘friends’ shower, and have the moms host the ‘family’ shower. The reason being, there were only three of us bridesmaids, and 150 aunts, cousins and ‘family friends’ that we didn’t know, would only meet for the wedding, and were capable of ingesting a shit ton of wine. That could get expensive.
So CC’s mom, who I adore, throws this FAN-TAS-TIC shower at Papa J’s in Carnegie. If you ever need a cool space for an event, I highly recommend it. The room was amazing. The centerpieces, handmade by CC’s mom, were gorgeous. We bridesmaids got there early to help set up, and get some instructions from CC’s mom. Let’s call her Dago Red.
I need to stop here and do some scene setting. CC’s parents are both divorced and remarried. Chilla’s parents are also divorced, and his dad is remarried. This meant we had four ‘factions’ attending the day’s event. The room could not have been set up more perfectly.
So we have four groups of contentious Italian women and an open bar. What could go wrong? Apparently something, because Dago Red was concerned enough to take us aside and give us the following instructions:
‘Ladies. I need you to do me a favor. I need you to keep a look out for any….commotion. If you see any commotion, I ask that you break it up and remind them that we are here for CC. This is HER day. I want no commotion.’
Ok. What, exactly, qualifies as commotion? Was she worried about someone insulting someone else and a verbal spat ensuing, or, was she thinking someone was going to smash a wine glass and leap over the table at someone? I’m Irish. Our idea of commotion is Aunt Glennis getting drunk and passing out in her mashed potatoes. Again.
Turns out, there was nothing to be concerned about. Yes, all of those people were in one room, but everyone only had eyes for CC. No fights, no drama, no nothing. Well. Except for the brief exchange between CC and her mother. When I tell you that there was a pile of gifts, I mean there was a PILE of GIFTS. CC was unwrapping as fast as she could, but not fast enough for Dago Red.
Dago looks at CC. ‘Can’t you unwrap faster?’ CC, mid gift opening, snaps back, ‘Are we on a SCHEDULE here??’ I was briefly concerned that this was going to escalate to a ‘commotion’, but thankfully the moment passed and CC went on the unwrap her remaining 4,359 gifts.
It was a beautiful day for a beautiful bride. My favorite moment was when Chilla came in at the end (someone had to help load up all 34,597 presents!). He was looking very spiffy in his shirt and tie, and he had a beautiful bouquet of flowers for CC. He came in and gave her the sweetest kiss, to the applause of 150 mostly drunk Italian ladies.
The friends shower is next month, and based on my previous experience on epic nights out with CC, I may need to hire Dago Red to help us with any ‘commotions’ we may encounter!
Mazel tov to CC and Chilla. I’m so happy to be a part of your wedding.
Yours in love,