It started with my miscalculation of the commute to the hair salon, my appointment going longer than expected, the 8 minute wait on the platform for both the line 7 and 6 (it was Saturday morning, not Christmas for pete's sake!), and the trains dragging ass through the tunnels. Once again it was made painfully clear that Paris is not your friend when you're running late.
Arriving back at my apartment in a frenzy, I made a beeline straight to my bedroom breezing past Kitty, Samantha, Dr. Becky, Gwan, Belle and Stina who were entertaining themselves with the wine and crémant I left in the fridge for them. Before launching into the twelve hour string of events, I sat down on my bed to allow myself to take in deep inhales. As I'm reminding myself to try to absorb as much of the day as possible, Stina walks in with a cocktail in her hand, kneels beside me with her arm around me, and calmly asks if I would like a Xanax. God, I love people who live in L.A. As tempting as it sounded at the time, it just would have been a bad idea. The wedding certainly would have taken on a different theme had the bride been hopped up on pills. Since I was going for more Elaine from The Graduate than Neely O'Hara, I skipped the "dolls" and had a glass of bubbly to calm my nerves and to remind myself that the wedding is not going to start without me. An obvious fact that amazingly, I was having great difficulty accepting.
With twenty minutes to get to Gare de Lyon, we booked it to the metro - a runaway bride followed by her mother, a pack of loud American girlfriends and their suitcases in tow. It didn't look like we were going to my wedding as it looked like we were escaping it. Truly a cinematic moment that was begging for soundtrack music to accompany it.
Photo courtesy of Gwan
Photo courtesy of Gwan
Once on the train, with three minutes to spare, Gwan pulled out another bottle of crémant that they picked up while I was at the salon, and we took turns passing it around. An old woman sitting diagonal from me, who I was expecting to receive judgmental glances from gave me - the bride swigging alcohol in her wedding dress on a suburban train to the French countryside - an approving smile. At least that's how I chose to read it.
Once we were settled in and comfortably buzzed, I allowed the stress to dissolve for the 50 minute train ride and enjoyed a moment that I will probably never see in my life again. Sharing this slice of my life, an otherwise mundane activity was brought to life by the voices and animation of my closest friends who are my family.
As chaotic as the first installment of the wedding was, it was true to what life is about, expecting the unexpected. I wouldn't have had it any other way...
