procession music and pyramid schemes

My friend Joyce wanted me to play the cello in her wedding. Or maybe it was someone else's wedding, but she said it would mean a lot to her if I played all the same. Before the ceremony, I accidentally left the cello hanging from a tree in a non-waterproof soft case, and during a sudden thunderstorm it became extremely waterlogged. I tried to dry it out as best I could, but as the water dripped from the f-holes the wood warped and separated.

The repairs would be costly. Another friend tricked me into joining her Amway-esque business operation to make some extra bucks. For $75, she gave me five gift-basket kits: a plastic bucket, a box of cheap Quality Street knockoff bon-bons, a bottle of vanilla-scented oil, and a Snickers bar. I was supposed to sell each for $20 and make a slim profit. Instead, I just ate all the Snickers. I was still pretty upset about the cello, and trying to sell people crap just makes me anxious.

under the sea

It was a dream wedding, except for the fact that I was literally wearing a mermaid dress. I must have gotten drunk and gone dress shopping at that costume store on 4th ave. It even came with a sea foam tulle train. AND a butterfly tiara that was too heavy to stay on my head (if it did, it would have given me an extra eight inches). The whole wedding was mortifying. And then afterward I had to run into the vestibule to get undressed because my parents' next door neighbor wanted to wear the same dress in her wedding, too. Tacky is contagious.

the Israeli army story

I was hanging out with my friend Larry, helping him get ready for his wedding. I told him this story about an Israeli army officer. I have no idea what the story was about, or why I told it, but apparently Larry really liked it.

This became apparent when I showed up at the ceremony and saw my name in the program. I was up right after the minister's opening remarks, telling my story about an Israeli army officer. I sat down at the back of the church. The church itself was outside in a garden, but my seat was behind a wall in the back area. I sat down on a stool in front of a window looking out on the proceedings and hoped no one would notice me.

They noticed me. Five minutes in, Larry called out my name. He pointed at me in the back and beckoned me on stage. "You guys are going to love this story," he said into the microphone, before ushering me in front of the podium.

I drew a total blank. There must have been hundreds of people there, and they all stared at me expectantly, with those polite smiles people have when they're sitting through weddings. "Hey, everyone, isn't Larry a great guy?" I said into the mic. Everyone nodded in agreement. I couldn't even remember how my story started. I shuffled through the papers on the podium, looking for a clue. There was no clue. I was stuck.