The Southern Wedding

As I was raised in Texas by parents who were raised in Southern California, it took me a while to get up to speed with all things southern. Take, for example, southern food. I was not introduced to a grit until I went to college. Until I became hip with Paula Deen, I thought a collard green was a dirty word. Chicken fried steak? I honestly still don’t get it. Also, what the hell is the big deal with sweet tea?!

Anyway, getting my southern bearings took me a good eighteen years. There is one thing, however, that I was introduced to immediately. The southern. family. wedding. YEEHAW! First, I should provide background about my family. I was raised by parents who had, hmmm, shall we say differing ideas about child rearing and what is important in life than most of our neighbors. I was told at a young age I would be going to grad school. I was told that education and career should the most important things in my life until I graduated and began my career. Men? I mean sure, if you want to date that’s fine. My dad always told me, “don’t be one of those idiots who gets married in your early twenties. Remember you have the rest of your life to be married. It can wait.”

No offense to my friends that are already married. Doug’s advice shouldn’t be read as one size fits all.

The moral of the story? Weddings weren’t really on my radar. I had no, and still really don’t have any, desire to get married. The drinking/dancing honeymoon stuff I can get behind. Big white dress in a church? SCARY. The parade of horrible that can be my relatives? NO thanks. However, despite all of my parents “sage” advice, I was warned told about the southern wedding.

I don’t get it. Alright, let me explain. The southern wedding is BIG. It is loud. It may or may not involve hay stacks, cowboy boots, two stepping, 500 fraternity and sorority sisters and an insurmountable number of family members. Oh, and for one of my friends, Bevo will be involved. (shout out to ‘ya K Nasty!!)

I recently went to a family wedding with my boyfriend. The wedding was BIG, the wedding was loud and there were more boots and big hair in once place than I would EVER care to see again. The best part about southern weddings, are the stereotypical guests. Specifically, the out of towners, the random, the distant relatives and the party person/people.

The out of tonwers really don’t belong. First of all, they probably have no idea where the are/where they are going. “Saaaaaaaaam, I told you the church is on the right!!!” These folks always seem to have an air of confusion surrounding them. Look people, you’re in Texas not Afghanistan. Grab a beer and some fried chicken and join the party.

Ah, the distant relatives. In my experience these are the ones that you have to invite because they are family, but you really know nothing about each other. If you are lucky, the distant relatives will aim to “make a good impression.” This may or may not involve full length beaded and ankle length coat tails. Yikes.

When I speak of the random, I don’t mean Vince Vaughn wedding crashers random. I mean, who the hell is that guy? The random is usually a lurker, scoping out prey at the bar or waiting to swoop in on the dance floor.  No one knows the random but no one is willing to strike up a conversation with him. Don't let your beer goggles get in the way here people. Stay clear of the random.

The party person is always my favorite. This is usually the best man, maid of honor or some other particularly intoxicated college friend. The party person somehow always manages to find the mic, whether it be at the rehearsal or the actual wedding. “remember that time we learned how to do keg stands behind the KA house and you had to pee on a tree and then we woke up on a couch in the alley?!” Yes I do remember. However I didn’t plan on sharing this tid bit with great aunt Mildred. Classic. Don’t ever change party person, don’t ever change.

I promise I am not a total pessimist, and I really do enjoy family weddings. I am usually the first one on and the last one off of the dance floor… with minor breaks to refill my cocktail. Having family that is willing to travel to see you or is willing to come even though they haven’t seen you since you were in diapers is pretty darn cool. Thankfully, my family and my boyfriends family are the sh*t. Phew! However, until (if ever) this happy even comes my way, I am going to spend my time with Dot…Training her to eat food off of the living room table.

Until next time,