My Own State of Mind

I was in NYC this weekend to experience and participate in a wedding. This is the third time in less than seven months someone close to me has gotten married. (Enough already, people!) First my sister, then brother, now best friend. What I liked best of all? It doesn’t matter where you tie the knot, city or suburbs; when done right, love feels the same everywhere.

This weekend did, however, hold some unique experiences:

Let the games begin One of David’s (the groom) homes is an apartment in Manhattan. There I sat Friday morning, surrounded by valuable works of art, a few framed pictures of Albert Einstein, a thousand books to choose from and a harp. No Elmo coloring books anywhere in sight.

Va Va Voom I haven’t been out of the house without a bra since the late Eighties. So, I was a tad worried about walking down the aisle in my Vera Wang gown and pulling a Tara Reid. Turns out, all was fine. Something happens when a team of professionals tackle hair, make-up and nails, all while murmuring about your complete and utter fabulousness. Combine that with a limo ride through the city sipping champagne and watching a friend you love being pampered like a princess and – oh, if one of the girls want to pop out and play, to hell with it.

Our Lips are so Close Sharing a hotel room the size of a shoebox with sister and brother-in-law will make you close and crazy. Luckily, we still like each other. Scott now knows more than he ever wanted to about my digestive system, Vaseline’s many uses, and Beastie Boys songs.

Where are you? Several things should not be attempted while drinking: long-distance text messaging, using cell phone/camera and only winding up with pictures of your mouth mid-conversation, hailing a cab in high heels, partying in winter weather wearing close to nothing because it’s Spring, dirty dancing to “Brick House” in front of children and a rabbi, and giving a speech longer than the pope’s eulogy.

Speaking of speaking in public, here is what I had to say at the reception:

As I stand before you today, it occurs to me that I’ve known Rebecca longer than anyone here except her mom, grandmother and sister. So, I’d like to share with you some of our memories. See, we were not always Catherine and Rebecca, the sophisticated and glamorous women you see before you. Once upon a time, we were awkward, we were Square Pegs, we were Katie and Becky.

When I thought about speaking to you all, I consulted a book I hadn’t looked at in a long time. It’s a book known for wise words and hidden truth. More so than the Kabbalah, the Torah, or even the Talmud….this book holds deep, dark secrets about the meaning of life.

I’m talking about my old diary.

As I looked through its worn and weathered pages, I reacquainted myself with the young girls that still live in both of us. Let me take you all back for a moment to a world of Slam Books and pep rallies, birthday parties where we dressed like punk rockers and sleepovers where we baked chocolate cake and prank called boys all night long. A time when friendships were forged walking home from school every day, when a straight-laced good girl stopped ignoring the frizzy-haired bully long enough to ask her name, where a teenager with braces on her teeth played clarinet and twirled a flag on the football field.

Becky and I would meet at this neighborhood gazebo when we felt at our most misunderstood, commiserating about boys, parents, and school. Often, we would daydream about the men we hoped to meet someday, fall in love with, and marry. We had high standards and here was Becky's wish list. He had to be kind toward animals, appreciate independent women, and resemble Simon LeBon circa 1984. He had to be romantic, even on bad days, approve of late-night phone calls between friends, and be willing to hold her hand during horror films.

It's a profound moment, standing here, witness to almost twenty-three years of twists, turns, and triumphs. David, you are everything a girl could want for her lifelong friend, despite zero resemblance to any member of Duran Duran. Thank God.

Some say love keeps marriage alive, but the longest loving couples will tell you that marriage…commitment… that’s what’ll keep your love alive. Everyone, please raise your glasses to my best friend and the man of her dreams. A world of love to you both.

Now, I’m not saying I rocked the house. That honor belongs to a band that can play Ben Folds, The Commodores and Frank Sinatra all in one evening. But, when a member of the Kennedy clan tells you you’re eloquent, bank on it baby. That’s better than sex!

Helluva night. Mazel tov, guys.