Rooted, I used to think.

Profile - Archive- RSS
Notes - Email - Diaryland

Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019

Saturday, Oct. 23, 2010 @ 10:05 am

We went down to Vancouver last weekend to attend a wedding.

You know how some people get to say things like, "I woke up in Moscow, and I went to bed in Tokyo"? Well, I woke up in McBride and went to bed in Clinton. Ironically, both villages have a population of around 740 and lie in the middle of a vast expanse of nothing. Both have dusty streets, sagging motels, and worn-out eateries. Tumbleweeds could be expected, especially in the sage brushed landscape of Clinton. Anyhow, being the glamorous jet-setting girl that I am, I woke up in McBride and went to bed in Clinton.

Trips to Vancouver are always rushed chaotic visits. Frantic trips to Ikea. Driving from the North Shore to Surrey and back. Brief glimpses of the ocean from the upper levels highway. Straining to see the Lions through the shrouding clouds. Waiting at Park Royal for the mall doors to open to buy a pair of shoes, because I was sent out of town before I had a chance to complete my outfit. Hugging my mom, my dad, and my sister goodbye.

The wedding, yeah, you know. An old highschool friend of D's. Staunch Catholic service. Conservative crowd, so I drank the wine from another table when I'd finished the bottle at ours. I danced with a bunch of people that I'd never met - god, it's been so long since I danced. Old men sitting at their tables watching us girls dance. Well, girls? I'd guess we were all in our late 20's. I reluctantly joined the group for the bouquet toss. Am I single? Hardly. Daniel caught the garter - it landed on his chest and sort of stuck there, much to his dismay. The whole thing - the whole giant wedding-reception-at-a-golf-club chair covers, coordinating cupcakes, slide show, buffet line up - does it mean anything if you follow every single tradition to a tee? Or are you simply going through the paces? By the end of the night, the wine took the edge off my cynicism, but you can guarantee that I will not be posed by the photographer so that the light is just right when, or if, I ever go to cut the cake. It's like in American Beauty, when they're on the couch getting romantic, and she goes "Oh, you'll get wine on the upholstery." Some things are meant to be lived, not documented.

Before we left my parents' house, my mom told my dad to go get the camera. It's a big thing - them being in the digital age. They posed me at the front door, the very place where I had grad photos taken. Dad says, "Your face is in shadow, lift it up a bit."


Roots | Shoots