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Days and days....
Since I feel like it, I shall finally get round to discussing my sister's wedding.
I did resist the urge to go as a Gothick Angel (I did miss my wings, though). Instead, I wore purple, black pantyhose, and gold angel sandals. And purple and red nails and toenails. According to my mother, I looked nice.
Personally, I still want to construct a formal angel costume--that fits the wings in, so I can wear it to things like a wedding.
I tried putting the sharpshiny down my back, but it doesn't quite stay properly, so I removed it.
Lestat, however, was a happy chicken in my cleavage. And, since I couldn't have the knife, mini-Stryfe joined him, red velvet cloak and all.
I highly doubt anyone even knew they were there, more's the pity.
My sister was determined to be married at the 'ruins' in Tower Grove Park. I'm no architect, but I suspect they were constructs, like the Follies in old regency times.
I was determined it shouldn't rain. We are, of course, paying for this meddling now. Had at least two storms since Sunday. Nice, big, rainy storms. Mmm.
The sun shone down, the grass was green, and the ruins sort of sparkled. And it was muggy as hell, although there was a nice little breeze. As always around my sisters' friends, I felt completely out of place. Partly because I really don't like her husband, partly because they're all so much more... idiotic than I. Maybe it's the patchouli half wore.
Or the vapidness.
There ceremony was short, thank god. My sister was lovely in her beige faux-20's flapper dress, although her sandals were ugly as shit. The groom was presentable in his white shirt and beige pants.
I became quickly glad we were on grass, and that I'd spent a large portion of time in my angel sandals before. I was used to pain.
Thanks to no sound system, and the fact neither Nate or Kat were trained in classical projection, the only person we could hear the entire time was the reverend/preacher/what have you. I'm guessing they said it all right.
I didn't cry.
And I really expected to. I mean, hello? My baby sister is getting married. I guess, in the end, all those books are right. People do grow apart.
Between the ceremony and the reception, I had to come home and pick up the wedding cake with my brother. Many jokes were made about that memorable occasion when "Gabe dropped the wedding cake!"
No such luck.
We got back, the cake was cut while I was eating. Pictures were taken of various groups. I'm pissed no one offered to take MY picture, considering I looked very presentable.
Then I made to dumb decision to drive to my brother's to watch the newly weds open their presents.
Yeah. Instant envy. I could USE the huge amount of money they ended up with. Badly.
Came home. 's about it.
I did resist the urge to go as a Gothick Angel (I did miss my wings, though). Instead, I wore purple, black pantyhose, and gold angel sandals. And purple and red nails and toenails. According to my mother, I looked nice.
Personally, I still want to construct a formal angel costume--that fits the wings in, so I can wear it to things like a wedding.
I tried putting the sharpshiny down my back, but it doesn't quite stay properly, so I removed it.
Lestat, however, was a happy chicken in my cleavage. And, since I couldn't have the knife, mini-Stryfe joined him, red velvet cloak and all.
I highly doubt anyone even knew they were there, more's the pity.
My sister was determined to be married at the 'ruins' in Tower Grove Park. I'm no architect, but I suspect they were constructs, like the Follies in old regency times.
I was determined it shouldn't rain. We are, of course, paying for this meddling now. Had at least two storms since Sunday. Nice, big, rainy storms. Mmm.
The sun shone down, the grass was green, and the ruins sort of sparkled. And it was muggy as hell, although there was a nice little breeze. As always around my sisters' friends, I felt completely out of place. Partly because I really don't like her husband, partly because they're all so much more... idiotic than I. Maybe it's the patchouli half wore.
Or the vapidness.
There ceremony was short, thank god. My sister was lovely in her beige faux-20's flapper dress, although her sandals were ugly as shit. The groom was presentable in his white shirt and beige pants.
I became quickly glad we were on grass, and that I'd spent a large portion of time in my angel sandals before. I was used to pain.
Thanks to no sound system, and the fact neither Nate or Kat were trained in classical projection, the only person we could hear the entire time was the reverend/preacher/what have you. I'm guessing they said it all right.
I didn't cry.
And I really expected to. I mean, hello? My baby sister is getting married. I guess, in the end, all those books are right. People do grow apart.
Between the ceremony and the reception, I had to come home and pick up the wedding cake with my brother. Many jokes were made about that memorable occasion when "Gabe dropped the wedding cake!"
No such luck.
We got back, the cake was cut while I was eating. Pictures were taken of various groups. I'm pissed no one offered to take MY picture, considering I looked very presentable.
Then I made to dumb decision to drive to my brother's to watch the newly weds open their presents.
Yeah. Instant envy. I could USE the huge amount of money they ended up with. Badly.
Came home. 's about it.
no subject
I highly doubt anyone even knew they were there, more's the pity."
So at Gally should i peer down into your cleavage for......oh i'll stop now before you fwap me :)
Possibly... ;)
*smooch*
Lyss
Re: Possibly... ;)
Smooch and a hug