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This Thanksgiving I will not be returning to my hometown in Iowa, and it is the first year I have been unable to make the trip home. Surprisingly, I am okay with this reality. Why? Although they will never replace my real family, I have developed a secondary family in the last few years, and I’m excited to celebrate this stomach-stretching holiday with them. There are a few certainties in the summer months: BBQs, blockbuster movies, tan lines, humidity and, of course, weddings. My earlier Iowan summers were filled with family cookouts at Lake Okoboji, endless days at the city pool achieving horrid tan lines, sticky nights up to no good in tall cornfields and the traditional exchange of nuptials between two Christian Midwesterners. This summer I’ve managed to take in all the aforementioned certainties in the form of hot dogs, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, wicked Texas-induced tan lines, makeup-melting sweats (myth buster: Dallas has humidity!) and two of the most wonderfully unique weddings I’ve ever attended. Two August 2009 weekend road trips brought me to steamy Houston, TX for an Americanized Nigerian wedding and a traditional Indian wedding. I had no idea what to expect other than cake and some shameless dancing where others look on in horror. I went in with an open mind, and each one presented me with a different perspective on weddings, love, traditions and the union of two people ready to officially start their lives together. WEDDING #2… There are a few certainties in the summer months: BBQs, blockbuster movies, tan lines, humidity and, of course, weddings. My earlier Iowan summers were filled with family cookouts at Lake Okoboji, endless days at the city pool achieving horrid tan lines, sticky nights up to no good in tall cornfields and the traditional exchange of nuptials between two Christian Midwesterners. This summer I’ve managed to take in all the aforementioned certainties in the form of hot dogs, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, wicked Texas-induced tan lines, makeup-melting sweats (myth buster: Dallas has humidity!) and two of the most wonderfully unique weddings I’ve ever attended. Two August 2009 weekend road trips brought me to steamy Houston, TX for an Americanized Nigerian wedding and a traditional Indian wedding. I had no idea what to expect other than cake and some shameless dancing where others look on in horror. I went in with an open mind, and each one presented me with a different perspective on weddings, love, traditions and the union of two people ready to officially start their lives together. This post is one that I wrote for Leading Associates in February 2009. I’m proud of the posts I wrote for LA, and I wanted to include them here at Trina Left Iowa. Note: this dating venture was an experiment during a time when Irish Boyfriend and I weren’t together. Right now I am in this fabulous life stage: I’m educated, single, emancipated from my parents, employed, full of life, cute (I have to give myself some credit), and blessed with a derriere that rivals JLO and Kim Kardashian (I’m learning to embrace rather than hate it). This is the time when I am supposed to be dating these great guys and going out for cosmopolitans with my fabulous girlfriends. Instead, I find myself going through the same routines and doing unglamorous things like drinking wine alone and watching the BBC Pride and Prejudice miniseries (I nearly tackled the delivery guy when it arrived from Amazon). Where do the cute boys and dates come in? I have always and will always love stories of sweeping, epic romance. As a child I was captivated by such stories mainly in the form of movies (from the Little Mermaid to the Thorn Birds). The over-arching theme was always attractive couples with a spark that never died. I dedicate a good portion of my free time to examining that everlasting spark by watching romantic comedies and fantasizing about romances. In fact, last Saturday night was an intensive night of research in the form of watching Bridget Jones’s Diary and Notting Hill (a dual-themed night: rom coms and London…pretty wild night). If my hours of study have taught me anything, it is that relationships are rarely “perfect” or “fairytale” but rather bipolar in nature. Love’s manic highs and crushing lows have given me a reality check on romance and caused me to hurt my brain thinking about it. |
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