Today we had to go down to our wedding venue and take the chuppah (wedding canopy), which is a big table cloth instead of a prayer shawl, four chuppah poles (eight feet or so in length) to hold the chuppah, the ketubah (marriage contract) which we glued to a large board, place cards and wedding booklets, kiddush cups and glasses (for breaking). A lot of stuff.
POB and I decided that it was a good muscle-strengthening exercise to schlep all of this to the corner of our block in order to hail a cab.
Now, we live on the upper west side of Manhattan, which I believe is recognized by both Israeli and Palestinian authorities as a permitted Jewish settlement.
Still, of all the neighbors in all the Jewish settlements in the world, carrying all our schleppage, we bumped into our non-Jewish neighbors (who are nicest people in our building) and, after our exchange of pleasantries, the husband said, “have fun at the beach!!”
Have fun at the beach? What is he talking about? Ohhhhhh…..
He saw the chuppah poles and the table cloth and thought we were building our cabana at the beach. Or maybe we were re-enacting the Israelites’ living in the desert after liberation from Egypt. Or maybe we were building those temporary structures for the harvest again. Really? We are West Side Jews and our concept of “settlement” is a full service, doorman building with a live-in super. We are not building harvest tents.
Then, I thought, we could build a cabana with what we have. I use the “we” royally, because I would need to hire a contractor. But I digress.
Back to our day.
In order to transport Chuppah poles, you need a big cab. And still the cab driver has to open the safety glass between the front seats and the passenger section, so that the chuppah poles can extend into the driver’s area and rest on the top of the front seats. Any short stops and the windshield is toast.
We arrived at the event space and nearly took out a light in the lobby with those chuppah poles. I was relaxed because I try to see to it that we are over-insured — walking, driving, breathing, whatever. The lobby attendant was not as relaxed.
We got to the event space and unloaded all of our stuff.
Next on the agenda were oxygenation facial treatments at Bliss. Someone told POB that these treatments will give us glows that we simply MUST have for the wedding. It reminded me of those Hi-Pro Glow dog food commercials but I kept quiet.
My “facial expert”, Tess, asked me why I opted for the oxygenation treatment. “My partner and I are getting married on Sunday and she was told that we should have these treatments.”
“How wonderful that you are getting married!! This is an ‘okay’ treatment. You have dry skin. I will give you a dermabrasion and masque.”
“I had that treatment about two weeks ago. You vacuum my face with sandpaper, right?”
“Your skin needs it, especially here (she touched my laugh lines) and here (she touches around my eyes). It is too dry.”
Ok, please don’t touch my wrinkles because then I will buy anything you peddle. “Ok, Tess, let’s do it your way.”
So, the sandpaper vacuuming commenced. It sounds just like having your teeth cleaned. Then she gave me a seaweed masque that was pink (I saw it when she pulled it off). MY FACE FELT GREAT.
“The seaweed masque is my wedding gift to you.”
“I am so glad I listened to you, Tess. And thank you.” (Don’t worry, the tip was BIG.)
Afterwards, we picked up SOS from school and settled in for some quiet time. Then we went to synagogue for our auf ruf (community blessing ahead of nuptials). SOB, HOSOB, DOB, SOPOB, FOPOB and our nephew (SOPOB’s son) came. POB, SOS and I were blessed before the community. Our family and some of our dearest friends from synagogue were there to cheer us on. It was such a wonderful moment.
As with all moments, they must end. Mine ended with FOPOB’s asking, “Is this thing over yet?”