You know when you see your blog stats slowly regressing to 0 views a day that it’s time for a new post.
This weekend Andrew and I had the privilege to attend two dear friends wedding – they were getting married…check this out…to each other! Wow! How often do you have that? Never.
Our friends had asked me to sing in the wedding, which I love – low pressure, pick your own dress. They asked me to sing an old traditional hymn which I only knew half the words to or really all the words but not what order they fell in. Being a prideful person of course I didn’t write them down or bring the words to the wedding because I didn’t want it to look like I was reading music. Of course when I got there everyone had music or words with them…
Anyway, back to the real story.
I have a very serious and undiagnosed disease.
I say really stupid things. Constantly.
Andrew and I arrived on time to the rehearsal. We actually arrived before the groom. So we wandered around until we found some people that looked like they might be related to either Kevin or Laura. We had only a few awkward conversations with people (my fault – I tend to bring up really inappropriate subjects like pregnancy peeing to everyone) and then Kevin saw us and came over to have a chat.
We were both thankful and ready for an easy and delightful conversation with someone we actually knew.
Thank you Kevin.
So we started talking about music and I mentioned how thankful I was that Kevin wasn’t going to be, “A total schmuck and sing a song he had written for the wedding but had never played for anyone else but himself.” Then I said something about how pitiful that would be.
No joke…I’m not exaggerating. I actually said that. I used the word “Schmuck” at a wedding rehearsal. I might as well have inserted that into “Be thou my vision” along with all the other words I got wrong.
Oh…and did I mention his mother tiptoed up while I was letting this verbal vomit spew from my mouth? Well…she did.
Kevin then got a really seriously look on his face. “Ok, yeah Val. But I’m really going to sing a song I wrote for Laura and I’m going to need to borrow your guitar and you can’t tell anyone.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m very serious.”
“Yes. Can I borrow your guitar?”
“Please don’t tell anyone Val.”
Really?!! I had just called the groom a schmuck and not only that he wanted to borrow my guitar, which has an awful tendency to wig out in hot weather and which I frequently have out of tune.
Really?! I had shoved my foot in my mouth, down my throat, past my intestines and kicked myself in the butt and I was supposed to keep that a secret? For a WHOLE 24 HOURS!?
I can’t keep my social security number a secret.
I can still see the look on Andrew’s face. Hand over mouth, his smile peaking out and his eyes telling the pleasure he was taking in my moment of discomfort all saying, “I love being married to you – you who never fails to make a dull moment more ‘interesting'”.
I almost told a group of about 5 people within the next 10 minutes. Andrew would just grab my arm and pull me away.
Well…I made it 24 hours. Kevin sang his song and Laura loved it.
And I was the only person that looked like a schmuck.
After 26 years of life I’m beginning to realize the value of thinking before I speak. The application of that wisdom is not going as well but…here’s to hope.
Here’s to love, which covers a multitude of sins and slurs and general personality flaws.
In other news: Seriously disappointed with Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. See it. But rent it. Don’t spend the 20 bucks to go see it in the theatre. Bleh.