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That last week? What do you want me to say about it? Was that fun? Did everything come off as it was supposed to? That there were no tears? No frustrations, no screaming words?
If you want, I will. But I would be lying, and as you well know by now, I tend not to do that to you.
I tell you the truth that I believed as I believed it, or I tell you why there is a wall that I have behind and allow you to fill in the details.
And that Monday through today, the day before my wedding, and that sounds so bloody wrong, the day before our wedding, Carmine’s and mine, was a drama-filled week.
But in the end, do you want to figure out why Claire’s shoes were not shipped from New York with the rest?
Or that two designers decided they can not both be at the same table at my wedding.
Designers can be, and usually are, asses, and I am willing to label them that, usually publicly.
But not at my wedding. We wanted an impossible dream, a no-drama wedding, and we damn well knew that was never going to happen.
Like when Mom’s parents figured out that there was no longer a room for them at the farmhouse and that they had to stay thirty minutes away at the Outlet Mall, yes, at the same famous Outlet Mall that their grandson was discovered at.
Or the fireworks when my uncle, who is an Army major, discovered that I could never now join the Army because I had changed my birth certificate.
I was listed officially in the government records somewhere as transgender.
Even though I was intersex, he somehow figured this all out on his own.
To be honest, he is one of the two who graduated from West Point.
His brother, however, is serving forty to life on an attempted murder charge.
I did not invite that uncle to my wedding.
I doubt that I would have survived. Rumor is that T was involved, as he was a competitive bodybuilder, and they tend to use testosterone. And the army, given away like candy, apparently, as it builds better soldiers.
Yeah, right.
And then the scallops were delayed, but got here anyway, and someone thought that we should postpone the wedding over that, apparently.
I do not know how much is normal and how much is Shannon chaos that I seem to attract at times.
But the good folks, the ones I wanted to see, like Byron and Alex from London, and the half dozen we know and work with from the firm.
And our friends from the runway itself. We invited about a dozen, between myself and Carmine, her deferring to me as I do walk runways, and she is in product stuff and does not have the contacts.
Dad’s family, fantastic of course, giving the love and acceptance I expected.
A few old colleagues of my parents, one of whom I call my “Uncle Jake”, who should not have been invited, as when he has a few, he has a few too many, and the asshole transphobe comes out.
Dad took his ticket to the event away on Thursday evening when he was in a local bar, badmouthing me and trying to drive severely under the influence, or rather well over the line, which determines the influence, it seems.
But the good, well, outweighed the bad.
The rehearsal dinner, at a restaurant on Rt 19 that is really decent, and we took over the entire facility for the entire day, was great.
Mom was not happy with her sister, who was also over the influence line and shouting off how I was stealing from her kids.
Really? I earn my millions working my ass off, and not one of your children has a job, and I am stealing from them? I do not need that type of cousin.
I had my found family with us at the house.
Eddie was actually spending the week in one of the spare rooms along with Evonne, not the same room.
I do not think that the two of them should be fixed up either.
Evonne is not in Eddy’s league, and Eddie is not in Evonne’s league.
But by the wedding, they were very good friends, with Eddy offering to do Evonne’s makeup for the wedding.
Yes, the drag queen offered to do the top model’s makeup for the fashionista wedding from hell.
Evonne said, “Not only no, but hell no.” She has been spending too much time with Eddie.
Did not happen. The pros we brought in from New York would never dream of allowing that to happen to a top model. No, Evonne was not allowed to have drag queen makeup.
Carmine and I, well, we took it all in, and took tons of photos of it happening. And along with Sarah, Amy, and Kim, I rode a lot that week. Lightning even got to run the barrels a few times, showing off, and she loves that, the showing off part.
And that brings us to today.
What? You wanted the wedding in this book?
Sorry. And since I am not writing the wedding, I suppose that you can guess where the next book starts, with Carmine and I returning from a honeymoon to someplace you have never heard of and never will.
OK, I will end this here and leave you guessing. More fun that way. And guys, that is to my good friend Lorie, if that is her name. But it was Lorie who told me that after my first book, this story was not complete.
I never intended to write a memoir, or two. But you know, in a way, writing this memoir has proven to be a piece of self-discovery that I badly needed. And it has allowed me to heal inside where I did not know I needed healing.
I hope that you have enjoyed this journey, and you never know, there may be a final, a third book in this memoir. Depends on how Lorie treats me, I suppose.
Shannon