Wednesday, July 1, 2009
The Great Northeast Tour of Domesticated College Friends Part 3
Stop 3: Vermont (The wedding)
Before long, E. and I were out of the war zone (Massachusetts) and into New Hampshire. The route took us through the White Mountains, which weren't white at all. People in New Hampshire are liars. I was hoping for mounds of whipped cream, but all I saw was more woods.
Still, I gotta respect their motto : "Live Free or Die." They don't have to bother with jails, I guess. Petty thieves stand up and court and demand the electric chair before being sentenced. Don't worry kids, you'll never be grounded - parents would be too afraid you'd overdose on Play-Doh rather than sit in a corner.
After crossing the border into Vermont, we stopped in quaint cafe in the village of Bethel. Either it's one of those cool little towns where everyone knows you, or that waitress was a nasty woman who won't let you order for yourself, because she told one table not to bother with the menu and their food would be out in a bit.
From there we traveled on into the Green Mountains, which were, in fact, green. However we passed signs for crossing bears, ducks, and turtles, non of which made any appearances. This was disappointing. Especially not seeing a bear. I hear when they get rabid they drool on Red Sox paraphernalia. That would have been an awesome postcard to send back to Skipper.
We finally make it up to Middlebury, where the bride's parents live (the main reason for E.'s and my road trip). There were bagels waiting for us on the kitchen counter, proving my theory that if you make a trip to see some one, they'll always feed you. The bride, who I later found out was named for an Irish myth (which is awesome), was getting her hair done in the master bedroom. I found a seat where I wouldn't be in the way and played voyeour to all the preparations.
It is a kind of an honor to watch a bride get ready for her wedding day - it's this special peek behind the scenes at all the nerves, excitement and a lovely transformation from the college bud I remember hanging out with, into a beautful lady about to embark on her most important day to date. I like to think the crude jokes and last minute suggestions (like having a wet wedding dress contest – which she would surely win) added to the ambiance.
E. was the official stylist and makeup artist, but even though I thought "clown" was the way to go, she went with the "elegant" look. After her work was done, we got ready and headed out to a beautiful park on Lake Champlain where the wedding would take place.
The ceremony itself was fantastic and very personal to the couple. Origami cranes strung to the tree branches seemed dance on the wind around where the couple made their vows. It was a truly gorgeous sight, yet I had to stifle a silly giggle. For a moment all I could think of was the end of our senior year at school, when the bride and I were both crazy over the same boy ... and look at us now, me watching her marry an entirely different guy. This warm feeling came over me, and it wasn't just the sun beating on my face ... it was appreciation for the kind of person she is. She never got catty over that college stud (I don't think she's ever gotten catty over anything), and neither of us have probably given him much thought since.
It would have been a shame to lose a friend for a possible fling, or to have missed out on such a perfect day now for a mutual crush over seven years ago.