The Runaway Groom

Have I ever mentioned the fact that I spent the first six years of my life living in a one-bedroom apartment? Amazing, the circle of life. But anyway, I was a "happy surprise" or probably just a "surprise," since my parents were both working at Howard Johnson's and my dad was going to law school at night during this time. Needless to say, we weren't exactly rolling in dough during my formative years.

And my apartment building wasn't very chock full of kids. I know I knew people, because there were people around that day I was BAREFOOT outside in the parking lot and cut my foot on a broken beer bottle, and there were definitely people around who bought my drawings that I was inexplicably allowed to hang all around the lobby, where I would set up shop for the day, and now that I think about it more, where the hell were my parents? This is why, I guess, I don't understand when people express surprise that I go jogging at 1am or walk around San Juan at night by myself. I've had my share of REALLY bad luck over the years, but knock on wood, I've never felt unsafe in that regard, probably 'cause I've always done things like...hang out in the basement laundry room by myself so I could play on the elevators.

I think I need to have a talk with my parents the next time I see them.

But anyway, I did have friends, but it was always in that Anne of Green Gables kind of way. It was awhile before I found any, and once I did, books had destroyed me for regular children. I mean, sure, you can decide that someone is your bosom friend, but at the end of the day, she really might turn out to be kind of a dumbbell who, raven-black locks notwithstanding, pukes currant wine all over the place and gets you banned from seeing her until you save her sister's life in the middle of a snowstorm, you know what I'm saying?

One issue was that I learned about friendships and "kids" through my voracious appetite for reading. We were poor, but there were always, ALWAYS books around. I read Little Women when I was four, and all I'm saying is that while reading is a good thing, maybe 19th century young (little) women weren't the most realistic models for what I could expect when I finally started school.

However. I did have one true, dear friend who was the best. His name was Skyzel, and he was my partner in crime, my confidante, my true love. He rocked.

He was also imaginary.

Now, let's make it clear that I was aware of this fact. I wasn't John Nash-ing it up out in Hempstead; I just had a very vivid imagination, and seriously, I had like, NOTHING to say to people my age. Sure, I could sleep over the superintendent's daughter's apartment, but we didnt have much in common. Plus, I was mad jealous, seeing as not only did she have a room, but it was pink, AND she had a canopy bed!!! But once that novelty wore off, there wasn't much left to discuss, although I think we played Hide and Seek in the basement a few times, and again, seriously, what, was I living a Peanuts strip, I mean, where were the adults?!

But back to Skyzel. As time went by, we both realized that we had to take the next step and get married. Obviously.

It was all planned. We were to wed in my parents' room on a Saturday afternoon. I was filled with joy. I had my outfit all planned, and it was lovely. I dressed, and waited for Skyzel to meet me at the altar.

Awhile later, my mother came into her room, and found me there. She didn't know why I was wearing the pink lace gown I'd worn to be my aunt's flower girl months before. She didn't know why I had an orange towel draped over my head. (Duh, it was my beautiful veil!) She certainly didn't know why I was having a meltdown in said getup.

"Skyzel...doesn't want...to marry meeeeeee," I sobbed.

Now, on the one hand, you have the question of why my mother wasnt invited to the wedding of her only child. Probably it was just in keeping by the "Saved by the Bell," no parents allowed lifestyle we seemed to have over there on Front Street. But regardless, I think we have a bigger question here, which would be, whose imaginary friend ditches her at the altar??? I mean, it wasn't just a matter of canceling caterers; I was all set to go, and that damn Skyzel pulled a full-on Julia Roberts on my ass!

We didn't speak again, Skyzel and I. Our relationship had been irreparably damaged. It was sad, but necessary. How could I ever trust him again, you know?

I did eventually move on. Got some real live friends, even some more with canopy beds. I even got a bed of my very own -- bunk beds, HOLLA! I also went on to stage more weddings for others, like that one time the whole neighborhood showed for Robb's marriage to my doll, Pretty Curls, whom my mother later threw out -- NICE.

And well, I can't say that we all lived happily ever after, cause my unlucky streak with weddings sort of didn't...not continue, but you know, I also failed my driver's license test twice! "Third time's the charm, they say," Shannon reminded me before my third test. She was mocking me, but she was right! So, maybe one day. Although, when and if the time comes, I'm totally gonna wear an orange veil with a pink dress again, because seriously, how rock and roll is THAT!




Aftermath: You always need a girls' night out.






©2006