Last night, we went to the wedding of the daughter of friends of ours.
We were pretty much wrapped up in the dinner, so much so that we'd forgotten about the wedding entirely until I came home from Pakua at 5:30. And the invitation was for 6:30. So, we arranged a ride with people who were also going, and rushed to shower and get dressed. Since these were shul friends, I had to wear a different outfit. Fortunately, our dinners are semi-forma at best, so my good navy suit was available. I dressed it up with a silver dogwood blossom pin and a silver evening bag. I also wore a navy and silver headscarf layered over a black one. I don't have a choice about shoes and I don't wear makeup. My evening bags hold a single key and my pda, with Jonathan carrying the money and cellphone - I don't need a comb or lipstick.
We were only invited for the chuppah. This is not uncommon, and we've done this before. And those times I was more or less fine with it - exactly a year ago, we went to the wedding of a neighbor's son. Just being invited was enough of a thing - we'd hardly expect the reception. And I wasn't exactly counting on being invited to this wedding but.
But they'd invited the rest of the congregation (they're in our shul), and a fair number were given invites to the whole thing. And that part is...painful. Because I kept running into people we knew holding place cards or asking where I was sitting. Our ride to the wedding, who had not been members very long and who were not "regulars" at their table, were invited to the whole thing. I felt marginalized and,well, twelve. You know. Not part of the "cool" crowd. And I reacted very badly and childishly - to the point of tears. And as much as I told myself to let it go, and to get over it and all that, it only made it worse. Of course, a lot of people were also only invited to the chuppah, but that's not as easy to tell until afterwards. I mean "not holding a place card" means nothing.
It didn't help that we'd arrived late. There was a buffet for the kabbalt punim (bride's reception), but the salads and cold cuts were all gone by the time we'd arrived and I'd gone to the buffet table. That left fruit and cake.
I don't eat cake.
And, to kvetch further, the area was small and hot, even with a lot of men over at the chasan's tish (the groom's table) and full of people I didn't know and crowds can get very uncomfortable. I did get a lot of nice remarks about the dinner the night before, and praise for the journal, and that really should have helped. I ended up crying in the (crowded) ladies' room. Not a good thing, and it made me feel more childish.
But it helped. I was able to return to the room and chat comics with a friend until the groom arrived to veil the bride, and we could file into the room for the chuppah, and I was perfectly all right during the wedding. The bride was lovely, but I only knew that because I knew her and because I greeted her when I got to the room.
It's traditional for Jewish brides to wear a veil over their faces, as Rivka did when she married Yaakov. This is the veil the groom places on the bride at the bedeken. In some circles, this is a solid piece of satin. In others, it's a simple blusher that barely obscures her face and allows her to see. This is what I did at my own wedding. Miera wore layers of gauze - she looked like she had more veil in front than in back (it was attached to her hair in front of her tiara.)
When the chuppah was over, Jonathan arranged for a ride home (and I saw that a number of people, both known and unknown to me, were getting their coats and leaving, so, again, I felt both better and worse. Better for knowing it wasn't just us, worse for being so childish.) and we went to our favorite brick-oven pizza place for dinner - way overdressed, of course.
We were pretty much wrapped up in the dinner, so much so that we'd forgotten about the wedding entirely until I came home from Pakua at 5:30. And the invitation was for 6:30. So, we arranged a ride with people who were also going, and rushed to shower and get dressed. Since these were shul friends, I had to wear a different outfit. Fortunately, our dinners are semi-forma at best, so my good navy suit was available. I dressed it up with a silver dogwood blossom pin and a silver evening bag. I also wore a navy and silver headscarf layered over a black one. I don't have a choice about shoes and I don't wear makeup. My evening bags hold a single key and my pda, with Jonathan carrying the money and cellphone - I don't need a comb or lipstick.
We were only invited for the chuppah. This is not uncommon, and we've done this before. And those times I was more or less fine with it - exactly a year ago, we went to the wedding of a neighbor's son. Just being invited was enough of a thing - we'd hardly expect the reception. And I wasn't exactly counting on being invited to this wedding but.
But they'd invited the rest of the congregation (they're in our shul), and a fair number were given invites to the whole thing. And that part is...painful. Because I kept running into people we knew holding place cards or asking where I was sitting. Our ride to the wedding, who had not been members very long and who were not "regulars" at their table, were invited to the whole thing. I felt marginalized and,well, twelve. You know. Not part of the "cool" crowd. And I reacted very badly and childishly - to the point of tears. And as much as I told myself to let it go, and to get over it and all that, it only made it worse. Of course, a lot of people were also only invited to the chuppah, but that's not as easy to tell until afterwards. I mean "not holding a place card" means nothing.
It didn't help that we'd arrived late. There was a buffet for the kabbalt punim (bride's reception), but the salads and cold cuts were all gone by the time we'd arrived and I'd gone to the buffet table. That left fruit and cake.
I don't eat cake.
And, to kvetch further, the area was small and hot, even with a lot of men over at the chasan's tish (the groom's table) and full of people I didn't know and crowds can get very uncomfortable. I did get a lot of nice remarks about the dinner the night before, and praise for the journal, and that really should have helped. I ended up crying in the (crowded) ladies' room. Not a good thing, and it made me feel more childish.
But it helped. I was able to return to the room and chat comics with a friend until the groom arrived to veil the bride, and we could file into the room for the chuppah, and I was perfectly all right during the wedding. The bride was lovely, but I only knew that because I knew her and because I greeted her when I got to the room.
It's traditional for Jewish brides to wear a veil over their faces, as Rivka did when she married Yaakov. This is the veil the groom places on the bride at the bedeken. In some circles, this is a solid piece of satin. In others, it's a simple blusher that barely obscures her face and allows her to see. This is what I did at my own wedding. Miera wore layers of gauze - she looked like she had more veil in front than in back (it was attached to her hair in front of her tiara.)
When the chuppah was over, Jonathan arranged for a ride home (and I saw that a number of people, both known and unknown to me, were getting their coats and leaving, so, again, I felt both better and worse. Better for knowing it wasn't just us, worse for being so childish.) and we went to our favorite brick-oven pizza place for dinner - way overdressed, of course.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 06:45 pm (UTC)Admittedly, I've mostly gone to family weddings, but I don't think I've ever been invited to the ceremony and not the reception. But my family is Catholic, and would obviously be doing things differently.
It does seem a little odd that the couple would invite such a large portion of the congregation, but exclude you from the reception. Was there an age split -- friends of the bride and groom invited, and friends of their parents not -- or something?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 07:54 pm (UTC)It wasn't age. Most of Miera's friends don't go to our synagogue. I did get some guidelines.
Some are regulars at their table - they're extremely hospitable people who always have full tables on the Sabbath, but there are some people whom they have over on a weekly or near weekly basis. These are mostly singles, but there are a few couples. We've gone several times, and even begged meals once or twice, but we can't be considered regulars by any stretch of the imagination.
Others - well, Saul's one of the gabbai'im, so we assume that's why Stu, the other gabbai, was asked to stay for the whole thing. The president and his wife - that makes sense. After that, I have no clue why some and not others.
Bride and groom get a say when it comes to their own friends. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 06:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 08:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 08:32 pm (UTC)Mmmm.... pizza.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 02:27 am (UTC)And, yeah. There are other times that I know I should be happy for someone else, but.
Actually, it serves more than pizza. They're especially good with fish. I had grilled salmon and
If you ever come to Brooklyn, we'll take you there.
If you ever come to Brooklyn, you're welcome to stay with us, too.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 04:09 am (UTC)Sounds like an excellent restaurant. And I'd love to have dinner. And I appreciate the invitation to stay, too. (I might manage a weekend away once Shabbat ends later :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 08:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 12:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 02:31 am (UTC)And that's why there are sheva brachos. :)
We've been happy to attend sheva brachos for couples who had small weddings.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 02:29 am (UTC)More common is to invite people to the sheva brachos instead. Since you have to have new faces each night, it works out nicely.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 03:32 am (UTC)We only had one sheva brachos meal; several of our friends had expressed interest in doing one, but a ten-person dinner was more than they had time to handle, and that was before we moved into our house, so we didn't have room for them ourselves!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-09 12:14 am (UTC)More like a standard Ashkenazi O custom - I've been to several mainstream Ashkenazi O weddings where that wasn't the case (as well as my own, but calling that one standard anything... yeah, right).
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-06 09:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 02:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 12:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 02:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 01:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 02:35 am (UTC)It's a bit harder for the weddings that have the dancing between courses.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 01:30 am (UTC)And out of the wedding this weekend and the bat-mitzva next weekend and the sheva brochos all this week (which they're having friends chip in on, of course) - all we got invited to was the wedding ceremony. Not the dinner, not any of the sheva brochos, not the bat mitzva.
So yes, I'm feeling pretty marginalized, and don't feel like extending myself on their behalf for something optional like this. If it was something real, like needing some money to make a rent payment, that would be different, but this sort of unnecessary voluntarism just...grates.
My correspondent sympathised, said he understood my feelings, and apologized for sending the letter.
I wouldn't say you need to consider yourself twelve, if you feel slighted.
I definitely feel slighted by HPMB, who was a witness at my wedding, but forgot to invite me to his. We didn't talk for many years, I called his parents and registered my disappointment. We sort-of made up a few years ago, but it hasn't been the same.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 02:37 am (UTC)I have a feeling he knew that at his wedding.
Anyway, he lives in DC now, right? Kinda hard to pick up the pieces now.
As for...them. I don't know. I really don't. I don't want to carry a grudge. That's worse for us than it is for them.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 11:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 01:57 am (UTC)Seems to be a lot of this going around. Even when I am invited to the whole chasunah, there's always someone around who makes me feel like running to the bathroom to cry, too.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 02:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 04:05 am (UTC)PDA?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-07 01:23 pm (UTC)My Palm Pilot. My Tungsten C, which goes everywhere with me. At the very least, I have something to read, something to write with and something to play games on (not to mention a full siddur and tehillim.)