10:15 am – arrived in Springfield and dropped Bitsy off with Jonathan’s mom
2:00 pm – When we were supposed to be in Rockford, we were sitting 20 miles out in standstill traffic for an hour. Loads of fun and excitement.
3:00 pm – After a temporary malfunction with both our laptop and the GPS receiver and getting lost in Rockford for about 10 minutes, we found my friend Laura’s apartment. We ate at a Rockford-original restaurant… I can’t believe I’m saying this… Beef-a-roo. It’s like a Steak-n-Shake, but better because the fries taste like McDonald’s and they have a mint lady that comes around and hands out Andes mints.
4:00 pm – Got a brief driving tour of Rockford.
6:30 pm – arrived at our friend’s wedding site.
6:45 pm – We were still sitting in the car, not wanting to walk in too early. We witnessed Smitty, Jonathan’s friend (the groom), walking around the parking lot with the bride, hair up in curlers – both still in civilian clothes – 15 minutes before the wedding was set to start. We would later find out that the priest shows up at this time.
7:00 pm – The best man’s plane was delayed and he was not present; nor was the bride, who was at home getting ready.
7:10 pm – The best man showed up. Though the wedding was outdoors, everyone was gathered inside at the reception site, wondering what they were supposed to do.
7:50 pm – The bride decided to show up and everyone was instructed to go outside for the wedding. There were no ushers, so people were wandering around finding seats.
8:00 pm – Smitty walked to the front and waited for the wedding party to come down the aisle. No one came.
8:03 pm – Still no one.
8:06 pm – And… Nothing
8:10 pm - Hmmm.
8:15 pm – The best man and maid of honor approached the end of the aisle and stopped for a photo. At this time, some random wedding guest remembered it was his responsibility to pull the runner down the aisle.
After a short struggle, he made it to the front, where he stopped for a moment because he didn't know what to do with the rest of the roll. He ultimately decided to kick the roll under the table, which knocked off the table skirt. Everyone was dying with laughter as he and the groom clumsily tried to put the table skirt back on. 
8:17 pm – The bride walks down the aisle. Halfway to the front, the wedding guests realized they’re supposed to be standing. The priest, who was an older, stoic, Hispanic man, immediately started in on scripture, and I swear he must’ve read half the New Testament. I’m also somewhat convinced, by the way he tripped over words, that this is his first time reading the Bible (at least in English). When he substituted “peez” for “peace” and “weewy” for “weary”, I had my face covered and almost completely lost it. This went on for a good ten minutes, and he had forgotten to tell the audience to sit down first.
8:25 pm – The priest tripped over the words as he went over the vows and exchanging of rings. At about this time, his cell phone went off. LOUDLY.
8:45 pm – The ceremony has almost ended, and they had forgotten to light the unity candle. The priest’s phone went off AGAIN.
9:00 pm – At the reception, we were left to sit with a table full of complete strangers. We enjoyed some appetizers and the wedding COOKIE. Yes, there was a 3-tier wedding cookie in place of a cake.
10:45 pm – The bride and groom were finally ready to leave, and giant, 3-foot sparklers were handed out. My dear husband, the pyro, took his smaller sparklers (table favors) and placed them in a water bottle. After the bride and groom had made their mandatory run through the group of people with sparklers, Jonathan, who at this point I am not claiming to know, lit the sparklers in the bottle. After about three seconds, the sparklers really lit up and the bottle, of course, caught on fire. You can imagine how proud I was. I’m wondering whose idea it was to invite my husband to an event where fire would be involved. He left his mark on the place with a black burn spot on the sidewalk. I was mortified.
Sat., 11 am – We had stayed all night at Laura’s apartment, but she had been picked up by her parents earlier in the morning to go on vacation in Maine. Jonathan and I had gotten ready and carried a load of stuff to our car. We walked back up the steps, and, oh no, the door was locked. LOCKED. With my purse, cell phone and her apartment key sitting on her dining room table. I. Freaked. Out. I had noticed that her neighbors a couple of apartments away had just pulled in, and I flagged them down and told them about our situation. They gave me their landlord’s phone number but I, unfortunately, got their answering machine and left a very awkward message. In the meantime, the very nice couple who let us borrow their phone offered to use a screwdriver to break in. However, Jonathan decided to try his hand at breaking and entering by using a credit card to break in. I have never been so happy about him committing a criminal act.
1 pm – Drove to IKEA. I had always wanted to go there, and it was pretty fun.
2:45 pm – Realized we should leave, because we had tickets to a 4:00 Blue Man Group show. Had we been in St. Louis, where the traffic is tolerable and drivers aren't mentally retarded, we may have made it on time. But nooooo, this was Chicago, where there is construction every five miles and a traffic jam and rude drivers to go with each one of them.
4:40 pm – Arrived in the vicinity of Briar Street Theatre where they perform. We discovered that the parking lot that they advertised held about 15 cars. Super. So, we frantically drove all over freakishly narrow streets in search of somewhere to park. So frantically, in fact, that I didn’t see two ginormous potholes and really tore up the bottom of the Civic. At this point, Jonathan’s mad that I did that, I’m mad that we just spent half my paycheck on a show we’ve missed half of, and I’m on the verge of parking the car in the middle of the street and walking away. I spent ¾ of the show in tears, so I can’t say it was that enjoyable. But had it not been for those circumstances, I would recommend it to anyone.
6 pm – They were having a street festival a block away, and we almost went to it until we discovered there was at last one gay bar on this block and half the gay men in Chicago had congregated there. Um, no thanks. We just walked around aimlessly for awhile.
7:00 pm – We drove back to Springfield. I don’t want to return to Chicago, ever.
1 comment:
OH NO!! Sorry it was such a traumatic trip for you guys! :( Maybe next time I'll come down to St. Louis. :) laura
Post a Comment