Sunday, July 25, 2004

Emily's World

My mom had cataract surgery a few weeks ago. This meant that she couldn't go anywhere alone because she could only see out one eye. She asked me a few weeks ago if I could go with her to the wedding of the daughter of one of the illustrious church members of the church she attends. I figured, since I haven't spent a lot of time with her since I got married, why not?

I've just come back from the wedding. Irritated and annoyed that I spent my only day of rest at this wedding. I'd sooner die than go back to another like this.

In the middle of the ball room, stood a huge gazebo where I assume the bride and groom exchanged their vows. It looked somewhat strange but was still something I could live with. As I was at the wedding by my mother's seeing-eye dog, I had a large amount of time people watching. That was when I started to sink deeper and deeper into cynical, bitchy depression.

The guests could be segmented into two different groups. One, the church group who were making corny Christian jokes about how God didn't send emails. I didn't get the punchline for that one, but I don't think I'd missed out on much. They also sat around and talked about cataract surgery and how wise people did not eat very much at buffets. Then there was the group like they were at an event worthy of a ten page spread in the Singapore Tatler. Tall modelesque girls dressed in clothes from The Link, Armani, Valentino, Gucci and Prada and men in Boss, Zegna suits.

It wouldn't be far from the truth to call the wedding the social event of the year and I was informed that all three daughters, including the one whose wedding it was, were all debutantes. Figures.

Anyway, what really got to me was that I knew a lot of dirt about this girl and the best man was talking about how she had led her husband into a stronger relationship with God and how she was a wonderful human being. All the perfect things to say at a wedding, just vague enough to get away with it but personal enough to bring tears to the eyes of the families. Unfortunately, with the inside scoop I had about this girl, I just couldn't feel that the entire event was somewhat farcical bordering on hypocritical. To make it more of a farce, I don't think any of the family knew who we were and my mother said all of two words to the father of the bride.

Weddings are meant to be the time when you are surrounded by the people who love you the most and want to share in your joy. I think their wedding was pretty much off to a bad start because they had at least one of me in their guest list of 700 odd people who felt that this was an ostentatious event designed to impress more than to be meaningful. Why else would you have unidentifiable deserts in small cups, tables and tables of tuna nicoise that few people touched and enough foilage at each table to reforest Africa?

Bitter much?

Perhaps.

I know I'll never be as beautiful or as thin nor as wealthy as some of the women there so perhaps, part of me is. But what I was more resentful about was the world these people live in. In the receiving line, I said goodbye to one of the debutante sisters whom I went to Sunday school with and she was like all, "Darling, leaving so soon ?"To which I replied that I had work to do. She was all "But it's Sunday. What God awful job do you have that requires you to work on Sunday?"

Yup. My job is God awful. I only teach kids how to read, write and think. It doesn't make as much money as hers does but in my world, it's something I get by with. It's one of those things that perhaps, she couldn't possibly understand and it bugs me. It bugs me that I was in a room with so many people that I believe, no matter how much you've worked your ass off to be where you are, it's not going to matter to them. What matters to them are the charity balls they put up, the latest preview sale that they're invited to or organising and it bugs the heck out of me.

In Gilmore world, I'd be Lorelai and they be the DAR members or the Chiltern parents.

Never again.

3 hours of my life that I will never get back. Ever.



Ondine tossed this thought in at 16:51

1 thoughts...

1 thoughts...

At 9:03 pm Blogger * the mad monk of melk * said...

well. you've got your daniel and that's all that matters! =)

 

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