After my six weeks of wrangling college kids (which lead to drinking excesive amounts of drinking) I had to prep myself for my sister's wedding, which was a week after I returned home. My sister decided to have her rehearsal dinner a week before the wedding instead of a few days (don't ask). She decided to have her rehearsal the day I was supposed to return. I explanied to her that I would be flying internationally that day and the odds were I wouldn't make it. Since I was already missing her bachelorette party she gave me a bit of a guilt trip. About halfway through my summer, I realized that it would be cool if I could switch my flight to a 9 am, getting me into JFK around 2 pm and just in time for the 4 pm rehearsal.
Of course I was exhausted when I got off the plane (4 hours sleep before I left plus none on the plane plus jetlag makes Jonesy a cranky lady). When I showed up at my mom's house I changed quickly and hid in my room to unveil myself as the big surprise to my sister, I had made it afterall, and she would be ever so grateful. Then I heard the doorbell ring. I relaized I had left my luggage in the foyer. Surprise ruined. I heard her bound up the stairs, and I fully expected her to run into my room at any time. But she didn't. Oh well, maybe she was too busy to notice my 2 huge suitcases, I thought to myself.
Scene 2: the chapel. I was sitting in a pew when she walks in. Ready for my big hug I waved to her to let her know that I was there and had saved the day by taking a super early flight. Nothing. She did nothing. Nunca. Nada. Zero. About 10 minutes after seeing me she came to say hello, acknowledge my presence. My other sister and I looked at her in disbelief, as I received not a single thank you for hauling my butt back home from ENGLAND and making it to her rehearsal that she had been guilting me about.
But what about me?????
As I stood on the altar, half watching the mock ceremony and half falling asleep, I knew deep down that she was most likely overwhelmed and was happy I was there. But I also knew deep down that I hadn't come home to make her happy. I was there because I wanted to be, watching her get ready to get married, the first of the three sisters. And that night I did get back some energy, after 9 diet sodas at dinner I got some energy and came back to my apartment here in the city. I even made it out that night. Jonesy, a jetsetting party girl with a heart of gold? Maybe a little bit. My family and friend who have known me since I was a kid don't really get it. I'm never happy in once place for too long. It's like geographical ADD. New York is the only place that I've been able to call home for more than a year since I was in high school (I don't think college counts considering you sort of have to stay there). Even here I tend to get really bored, which leads to me trekking into the burbs for the weekend, geting bored again, and realizing how good I have it.
My best friend is getting married exactly one month from today. She recently gave me a letter which made me a little sad, as she said that life doesn't turn out the way you think it will and she always thought I would have lived back in Westchester until I got married and that I would stay there forever. And she's right. Growing up, I thought the two of us would get married and be neighbors. But my dreams have changed and I'm sure hers have too. I still know we will always be friends, and that when we have kids we will take them shopping on Sundays, and that we'll have holidays and Christenings, Communions and Weddings. And that when we are realy old, we'll be like the old ladies that you always see walking down the street hand in hand together or at the diner talking really loud. She'll be the Dorothy to my Blanche. Even if my dreams are different and even if I go to a hundred places, I'll always come home, and put my jetsetting aside for at least for a little while. Just to check in the my my family and best friends. And to get over the jet lag of life.
And Golden Girls we shall be!