Caught. Again.

If you're female, you know this badge of shame well, or at least you've done the walk of shame. No, not that walk of shame.  I'm talking about the ones at weddings.  The ones where the emcee announces it's that time, the time for the bouquet toss.  When you're 16, it's exciting because you're still dreaming of that cupcake dress and ostentatious wedding to some missionary serving in your ward.  When you're 18, your dream may shift to the missionary you sent off.  When you're 28, it's just embarrassing.

The first bouquet I ever caught, I believe, was when I was 15.  It was at David and Rachel's wedding.  It was exciting.

The second bouquet I caught was when I was 17, almost 18, I think.  It was at Gary and Natalee's wedding.  I think I shared the honor with a niece who really wanted to catch it.  I held her and we caught it together.

I won't bore you with the third, fourth and fifth bouquets I caught.  Let's just say that the supersition that whomever catches the bouquet will be the next to wed is not true, and I have single-handedly proven that fact.

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Two of my cousins got married this last week, within 3 days of each other actually.  The weddings have been beautiful.  There is something so special about attending a sealing where the spirit is so strong.  You know they love each other, that they are faithful, and that they will do their best to live the gospel.  I love seeing people so happy.  

Rich's wedding was on Saturday in the San Diego temple.  While San Diego no longer really feels like home, the temple here always will.  It was where I received my endowments and it's where I feel like my adult life really began.  The reception was both freezing temperature-wise and informal as far as emcee and structure was concerned, so when I found myself being herded into a single female mass against my will, I immediately turned and headed towards the warmth and safety of the house.  On my way there, I was harassed by my brothers, parents, and male cousins and guilted by my single cousin Jayne who was also being forced to stand in the Crowd of Shame, clumped both with the girls who couldn't get it done and the ones who were twittering with the excitement of cupcake dresses and returned missionaries (or whatever it is teenage girls dream about these days).  

"Julie, if I have to stand there, so do you."  And so I did, because I love Jayne.  Here's the only problem.  My competitive spirit.  One of the reasons I abstain from this dumb tradition now is because if I'm in the group of women, I'm going to get that bouquet, not because I want it, but because it's there and the point is to get it.  This is the only reason I have caught so many.  The problem is...it makes me look desperate.  Which I am not.  At all.  For the ten foot walk of shame across the dance floor, I had this internal struggle.  Do I go for the bouquet or do I just stand there like an idiot and not even try.  I sized up the group.  Pathetic.  I had 5 inches on all of them with my heels on.  I stood a little off to the side, still indecisive about what to do.  Rich's bride counted.  1...2...3!!!  The bouquet flew into the air.  All I had to do was stick my arm in the air.  I couldn't help it.  It shot above the crowd.  I felt the bouquet in my hands and then in an instant I decided: I didn't want it.  I took my hand down.  Some 16 year old sister of the bride caught the bouquet.  She was ecstatic.  My family was appalled.

"Shameful withdrawal of the hand, Julie."

"You totally had that! What's the matter with you?"

"[head shake]"

The truth? I don't know why I didn't just grasp it.  I think because I could feel the tension of the little girls behind me.  They wanted it so badly and I didn't care for it at all.  Plus, I had no relation to Rich's bride.  I was just some cousin.  Give it to a sister, I say.  

Today was wedding number two, my cousin Abigail, Rich's sister.  We had a great day with our families.  The sealing and reception were both so beautiful.  The toasts were moving, the daddy/daughter dance brought tears to my eyes, and the cake cutting was cute.  Then...the bouquet toss was announced.  I rolled my eyes.  For the last three days all I've heard from my family is the hand-withdrawal debacle from Rich's wedding.  Sure enough, Jayne and I were made to endure the walk of shame one more time.  We stood together sort of huddled off to the side, shooting our parents dirty looks, while the groom's sisters all stood excitedly in a group.  

"Julie," Jayne said, "I really don't want to catch this, but I think you should."

"Why me? She's your sister.  I think you should have to catch it."

"No really.  Please catch it."  

"Seriously, Jayne.  I really don't want it."

"Please?"

I told her I would at least reach out my hand in committment this time.  

Abi counted.  1...2...3!  It was headed straight for the group of sisters.  But the flying orange and white was too much for me.  The girls were just standing there, waiting.  Because I refused to make any grand gesture to strip these girls of the bouquet, I stood exactly where I had been and reached my hand up and over.  And waited until the last possible moment to snatch it out of the air.  And snatch I did.  In fact, I snatched with more force than I meant to; a couple of flowers were lost in the effort.  

It was actually kind of fun to catch the bouquet of someone I loved so much.  And it's always fun to win.  :)