“Goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married. Goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married. Gee, I really love you and we’re gonna get married. Goin’ to the chapel of love…”
No. Not me. I’m already married. And have been. For a long time. That song is going through my head because my cousin is getting married. In two weeks. Fingers crossed, knock on wood, and God willing, he will be married for a long time. Forever. Maybe even, as Buzz Lightyear likes to say “To infinity… and beyond!” which is, I am pretty sure, longer than forever. His fiancé is really pretty, and really nice, and everyone likes her so we want her in the family. If we were picking teams, like if this was gym class, we’d probably be fighting over her. So I’m glad my cousin is like the team captain, and he picked her up first. She’s a keeper.
Anyway, this isn’t really about my cousin, or his fiancé, so much as it’s about the fact that I have to go buy a dress to wear to the wedding. I looked in my closet and I have nothing to wear. I doubt that I’m not the only one who has ever been in this predicament.
I used to have things to wear. I’m pretty sure I even had a few nice things too. Fancy things. Things suitable for an evening wedding. But not anymore. Ever since I had a child, I stopped buying fancy things because I don’t have anywhere to actually wear them. Heels and a little black dress are a bit too much for dinner at Friday’s, if you know what I mean. And I’m just not into the symphony or theater enough to attend on any regular schedule that would require I keep nice stuff in my closet. Okay, actually, I can’t really afford tickets to the symphony or the theater, let alone the fancy clothes and sequined handbags and shoes required for it, on top of the cost of a babysitter. But I’m not blaming my child for my lack of fancy clothes, or my budget really. If any blame is to be placed, it’s with my friends who all got married back around the time I did, and so none of us have much occasion to get dressed up anymore. Sometimes married life means you dress up for other people’s events, but when they are married too, and busy with children of their own, there aren’t that many events demanding you pull on pantyhose. The occasional potluck or Saturday afternoon Bar-B-Q are just a bit too casual for that, I think. Unless you’re June Cleaver, and I’m not.
Which is okay, actually. Until you NEED a dress. Because you know when you need something, you’ll never find the right thing. Especially when you have a limited amount of time to find it. Especially when you have less than 2 weeks to find it.
Now, in all honesty, I have a little black dress hanging in my closet. It fits, it’s fine. It will work for this wedding. My husband says so (although that could be because he doesn’t want me to spend any more money) and my mother says so, and a friend who’s hip and very into fashion, says so. And I know that black is perfectly fine evening wear, even in the summer. But still. Black reminds me of funerals, not weddings. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve been thinking about funerals an awful lot lately.
I can’t help it. I’m starting to wonder if the grim reaper is stalking me. I don’t think I’m crazy because I have this evidence:
First, I heard an ad on the radio in my car. It was for a funeral parlor that’s located in my town. The ad said when cremation is what you’re after, they are the place to go. They offer a full range of burial and cremation services because they have their own crematory ON THE PREMISES. In my town!
I did not know that. I was creeped out at the knowledge. I can’t stop thinking about it and now I feel like I need to drive by there and take a look. I mean, is there a chimney sticking up and spewing smoky ashes of the dead into my town? Is that why this area has so many farms? Things grow well because the ashy smoke settles on the fields like fertilizer?
And then, I don’t know how, or why, but I heard this snippet of conversation when I was standing in line at the grocery store the other day: “…and he told me that he couldn’t find anyone to build crypts in Puerto Rico, so I picked up the phone and called my guy…” Crypts? And you have a guy? You have a guy that builds crypts? Who are you?
I’ve been listening to Good Charlotte’s CD Good Morning Revival lately too.
I picked it up at Best Buy a week or so ago, and I like it so much that I’ve kept it in my car’s CD player ever since. My daily commute is long, and I hear the entire CD at least twice a day now. There’s a song on there, All Black, with the line “…Never been much for weddings or anniversaries but I go to a funeral if I’m invited any day of the week…” and then another line “…Like the color of your dress, all black…” .
Anyway, on my way home from work everyday I pass by this cemetery. And sometimes, if the timing is right, All Black is actually playing right as I drive by. I think it’s old, the cemetery, and possibly haunted. All of the headstones are crooked, leaning to the side, their heavy bottoms, which should be underground, I think, are exposed. Others are leaning forward, as if to kiss the ground. And the rest, they are leaning backwards, as if tired of standing sentry, they are getting ready to lie down and nap. I can’t help but think of those old horror movies, like Night of the Living Dead, for example, where the dead claw their way out of the ground at night. I imagine, as I pass this particular cemetary, and see the tombstones all askew, that the dead are responsible. They’ve bumped their headstones and set them off kilter as they’ve climbed from the depths below.
On top of all that, as I was driving my son to summer camp this morning, I looked in the rearview mirror to find that I was being followed by a hearse. A hearse! A vehicle I think of as a limo for the dead. But thinking about limousines reminds me of weddings. Which reminds me again that I ought to go shopping for a more colorful dress. If I can’t find one I like, then I’m at least buying a pair of new shoes to go with the dress I already have hanging in my closet. I probably ought to to buy flats instead of heels. That way, if I am being stalked by the grim reaper, I might have a chance of out running him.
Running With Books 