Some people's mothers are grandchild crazy....

My mom is: wedding crazy.
 
As a few of my loyal readers might know, one of my dearest friends in the whole wide world got married this past October. The wedding was a marvelous, and special event. And the reception was at my parents' house. I will give props where props are due -- my mother really outdid herself with the decor. It was very, very beautiful. But there were some unforeseen consequences to the wedding. It opened my mother's wedding floodgates, and I, poor, unfortunate Lil Layne, find myself on the receiving end of the torrential waters.

I guess my mother had always been wedding crazy. She has thrown no fewer than 4 weddings since I've been alive. But I've never been even close to marrying age for all of those weddings, so I didn't realize what would happen once my mother started thinking about weddings. GIRLFRIEND HAS LEARNED HER LESSON.

Moving back this summer marked the beginning of the, "What's wrong with you and why don't you want to get married?" conversations with my mother. Here is how these conversations go:

Mother: What's going on with (enter name of engaged friend who my mom knows to be engaged)?
Lil Layne: I don't know. She's engaged.
Mother: How wonderful! (awkward pause because BigMommaJ - her self appointed moniker -is terrible at segues) How does that make you feel?
LL: I don't understand your question.
M: (Deciding to eschew tact altogether and go for the jugular) I mean, how does it make you feel that all your friends are moving on in life, and finding their husbands, and getting married, and doing all the things normal girls do, and you aren't?
LL: I don't even know how to answer that compound question. Objection to the form. And furthermore, as my mother, aren't you supposed to be supporting me in however I choose to live my life?
M: I AM JUST DOING WHAT MOTHERS ARE SUPPOSED TO DO, LIL LAYNE. (BigMommaJ starts getting crying voice) WHY ARE YOU SO HATEFUL.
Conversation Ends

So that starts happening.  Probably once every 2 or 3 weeks.  Which is fine, and I can deal with it.  Then, the youtube starts.  

I first walk in on my mother listening to wedding organ processionals in the family room circa 2am.  I stand there, wondering if I should ask, "What up with that?" but I really don't want to know the answer.  The wedding processional videos (which, by the way, are not even videos so much as music accompanying a blurry still photograph of a nondenominational church in Iowa), continue for a couple of weeks.  But after a while, that doesn't do the trick anymore.  Mama's gotta get her fix.  So she moves onto the meth: actual wedding videos.  Specifically, some black and white footaged video of a wedding with a soundtrack of the smooth stylings of one Michael Buble. .  She can't get enough of this particular video.  She sends the video to her entire email address book.  She makes it her internet homepage.  She silently weeps to the video.  It goes without saying that my mother has NO IDEA WHO THESE PEOPLE ARE.  In fact, I wonder what Dan and Margaret of San Luis Obispo, California would say if they knew somewhere in New Orleans sat a woman silently weeping to footage from their wedding. Whatever...I learn to deal with it, and I think to myself, "I'll be at law school soon, this will all cease." 

I get to school, and all seems quiet on the western front.  Then, the emails start.  My mom starts sending me emails attaching photographs of wedding dresses.  She sends me ideas of venues.  She sends me more processional music.  She asks me what I think about having my old children's choir sing at the wedding that never was.  I respond to all of these with snark, but aside from causing my mom to probably scream, "HATEFUL" at the computer screen - it does nothing to stop her. 

On the one hand, I'm so happy that should the time come, my mother will obviously be ready and willing to plan my wedding.  But on the other hand, how do I explain to BigMommaJ that there are certain things necessary for a wedding? Namely - a groom.  How do I explain to BigMommaJ that given my current life trajectory, I will be ready to get married when I am 56, around when the two-time divorcees are just hitting the market.  How do I explain to BigMommaJ that an amazing wedding is all moot when the bride is unemployed living in the rat's nest above her father's garage? I don't.  

So that is where you, wonderful loyal readers of Lil Layne come in: let my mom plan your wedding.  Please.  She will do a good job, and it will distract her long enough to prevent her from planning mine.  You can even use our house as your reception venue, provided my parents haven't jumped ship and moved to an unmentionable parish of unspeakable horrors by then.  Here are some photographs which will hopefully sell you on her services.