In my dream, I'm standing in the middle of a dance floor in a poofy, hideous bridesmaid's dress, and the only other person there with me is the six year old flower girl, because we're the only single females left in the room.Around the edges of the dance floor among the assembled wedding guests, I recognize a lot of the women from the last several years of my life who are married - Jessica, Jill, Redhead, cousin Rebecca, Jocelyn, Kira, even Lisa from the Pub. Everybody's cheering as Dara turns her back to us and pitches her bouquet of flowers over her shoulder, and the crowd goes wild when the flower girl makes an incredible leap and a one-handed catch right in front of me. The flower girl gives me a smug, satisfied look, sticks out her tongue, and skips away just before the band starts playing again and I wake up.
Luckily, the scene is not quite the same in real life on Sunday. Dara's still got a bunch of other single girlfriends, and there's shrieking as a bunch of them push at each other and grab for the flowery projectile. I'm content just to stand there in the middle and watch instead of fighting. Ultimately it's Dara's sister and maid of honor Betsy who comes away with the prize, laughing proudly, stray petals drifting to the floor after all the grabbing.
Plus, my bridesmaid's dress is gorgeous and not at all poofy.