the post in which I try to pretend I'm hip and/or classy (and probably fail miserably)

Being the middle-aged mother of three young children, I do not have many opporunities to eat in fancy restaurants with valet parking. Nor do I have many opportunities to mingle with members of the local indie-music scene. This weekend I did both! The singer in Hubby's band got married this weekend, and she asked Hubby's brass quintent to play at the wedding. As part of the wedding, we were invited to the rehearsal dinner. I've met the groom a number of times, but never really talked with him about his family (who was hosting the dinner), and when I asked Hubby about the groom's parents, he didn't have much information for me. "Well, they're local, and his dad works at a car dealership or something," he told me. "I heard the restaurant we're going to is pretty nice." So, being the web diva that I am, I decided to Google both the restaurant and the host. Mr. S does indeed "work at a car dealership." In fact, he is the Executive Vice President of said dealership, a very well respected Mercedes place in a wealthy area of the county. The rehearsal dinner was at a swanky Italian place near the dealership. We mingled a bit, and as one of the passing waiters handed me a nice glass of Cabernet, he very nicely directed all of us to our appropriate tables. Upon overhearing Hubby mention that I couldn't eat any of the appetizers becuase of my allergies (there was a shrimp cocktail and a calamari), said waiter slipped away to put together a little prosciutto plate. This waiter was very solicitous (not to mention pretty flirty, in that "stereotypically gay guy is over-the-top flirty with the women" kind of way) through the entire evening, which is his job but I decided to ignore that it was his job and pretend like I was actually getting special treatment. The pasta course was delicious, and the entree (I went for the filet mignon instead of the rockfish or chicken) was perfect and the tiramisu was to die for. And I made conversation and mingled and generally managed to have fun without spilling anything on myself or being a total dork. I even made a joke during the slide show prepared by the mom and brother of the groom that I was thankful that my family had not compiled photos of me through the years for my rehearsal dinner, given that I didn't need a restaurant full of folks to see me all chubby with bad hair. One of the other guests reacted in shock, saying there was no way I was either chubby or had bad hair. Obviously, she was drunk. Then the wedding- we had to be at the church an hour early so that Hubby could set up music stands, etc. and warm up before guests started arriving. One of the other guys from the band was an usher, so when he arrived he came over to talk to me and one of the other early-bird musician appendages. "This just seems so wierd..." he said, "You both look great!" "It's weird that we both look great?" I asked with a smirk (so witty! Or lame. You be the judge.) Anyway, we bantered, and I said I was going to wait until more people had arrived, then blend in with the crowd waiting to be ushed. The wedding was very nice, the guys played well (although Hubby was not happy with his performance. Damned perfectionist musicians), and the whole wedding party seemed very relaxed and happy, looking as though they were about to burst into laughter at any moment. There was some time to kill after the wedding was over, though, because the reception didn't start until 5:30. Hubby had to go back to work to oversee the marching band in the pre-football game parade (yesterday was the game against the school's biggest rival), so we headed to his office where he changed out of his tux and unlocked the equipment closet for anyone who arrived after he left to drop me back off at the historic mansion where the reception would be held. He drove me back to the reception site, but it was still a full hour before the party was scheduled to begin. Luckily for me, the bride and groom and their families was very happy to invite me to hang with them. The staff of the mansion led us to an upstairs conference room, where some wine and sodas were available, and returned to the rooms downstairs to finish setting up. The nieces and nephews of the wedding couple were taking turns at the head of the conference table shouting orders and hiring and firing people as the adults observed. By the time it was time to go back to start the reception, the ushers and I had be hired, fired, and hired again in a bidding war that brought us each a few billion dollars a day in pay (for doing no actual work), two jacuzzis each, and a gold plated helicopter to take us whereever we felt like going. Not a bad deal, I must say. Hubby missed the wandering hor d'oerves (including a plethora of mini quiches- I was so loving this reception), but arrived just in time for dinner. We were seated with a few of his bandmates and a couple members of other local bands, one of whom was also serving as the DJ. She had arranged for a CD compiled by the groom to be played while we ate, and when one of the songs from one of the guys at the table next to us started playing, she gave him the wireless mic so he could table hop through the reception lip-syncing. It was much more amusing in person that it seems on screen. After dinner, the dance floor was crowded and the wedding cake was chocolate, so it was an awesome reception. We stayed longer than we should have, probably, since my poor sister was stuck babysitting for us. It didn't take long after we arrived home for me to be dead asleep. Unfortunately, reality reared its ugly head this morning, and I was right back to being awakened by Lil Joe asking for milk while Hoss screamed about Princess pushing him off the couch and changing the channel, and I hauled myself out of bed and ran to the grocery in my ripped jeans and baggy sweatshirt before Hubby left for the stadium for his regular football game with his family. Oh, well, sooner or later I knew I had to go back to being the geeky-mom...