The bride looks beautiful, my cousin, very dashing as well.
They exchange vows, it makes me tear up because I cry all the time these days like I told you.
He tells her:
"Even if we do not have much money and we only have frijoles, I promise to always love you."
I lose it a little...until...
The idiot who is marrying them actually answers his cell phone while he is performing the ceremony and babbles on in front of everyone, "Oh yeah I'm here at a wedding, blah, blah..."
Who the fuck does that?
Do we honestly live in a world void of manners and completely dependent on smart phones??
Not only that, when he is performing the ceremony, he looks at her stomach while he's talking and says.."Senora??" As if to indicate that she's pregnant...which she is...but EVERYONE already knew that, and it is so NOT the kind of wedding that is hush-hush-she's-pregnant-and-they-had-to-get-hitched kind of thing. They really love each other and seem truly, truly happy. They would have gotten married anyway.
I want to punch that guy in the face because she seems embarrassed and it is her wedding day and hell no, what a fucking macho prick. It makes me angry. I'm looking around at everyone's reactions which seem angry too but I think I am definitely the most irate. I make eye contact with him and give him my best, bitchiest, I-went-to-catholic-all-girls-school look.
We sit with my estranged uncle and his family, it is awkward but becomes less so when we start drinking a little. He does not mention my father. None of them do...but I know it is in the air, and I know my father would have loved to be here.
After many pictures, the event moves forward to the fun part...
Tequila, tequila, tequila.
Dancing, dancing, dancing.
My cousin has taken over the job of MC because he's actually way more fun than the actual MC.
When he's not dancing, he's singing, when he's not singing, he's talking loudly to groups of people. I think how much Julian would like it here and maybe he could get a job here and maybe if we could make it work, we could have a wedding this much fun, here in Mexico, one day.
He starts to yell my name and I know what's coming....
"Ahh I want to introduce you to my friends..."
Great.
They swarm me like bees to honey because I'm wearing the most amazing dress the universe has ever known. It is red, and tight, and stylish.
I dance, and dance, and dance. I want to sit with my family but I keep dancing. I don't really know exactly how to dance all these steps but somehow, with my friend tequila, I manage. Half my blood comes from here, I have to manage.
As the tequila infiltrates even my mom, the night wears on.
I have to very aggressively turn down dates and advances, and it starts to feel less and less flattering, and more and more annoying.
One guy, Juan, he is the worst. He says he wants to marry me, that I should come live in Puebla, that we could date and then he would propose...oh and he has a girlfriend...that he will break up with...and he knows he has a tummy...but he will hit the gym...he swears.
I am reminded of when I dated a Venezuelan and how Latinos will pretty much say everything you want to hear. Even though I'm very attracted to them, I feel thankful that I'm with a German who means what he says and says what he means.
We go to the hotel, I peel my dress off, and fall asleep.
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