Always a bridesmaid

A close friend or family member of mine (feels like a sister, maybe?) is getting married. I don't know who this close friend represents in real life; she doesn't resemble anyone I know. It's the day of the wedding and I'm some kind of bridesmaid, getting ready frantically and trying to help set up decorations.

We're running late and the wedding nearly starts while I am still hanging halfway out of my dress and trying to get my hair fixed up. I beg everyone to please slow down and delay the start so I can finish getting ready. The hectic feeling is overwhelming. Finally I'm done getting dressed (and I look like some kind of cracked-up hayseed with my insanely messy braided hairdo) and we can commence the marryin'. We head toward the altar, which is presumably down some sort of hall, but the landscape of where we are keeps morphing and changing and we never get to where we are trying to go.

It's now an hour after the wedding's scheduled start time and the bride and her party are getting increasingly frustrated and desperate because we don't know what's going on. We're carrying tons of balloons and ribbons with us and getting our fancy dresses all dirty and sweaty.

I get riled up and tell the bride to call the venue and demand a full refund, and then give her lots of "you go girl!" encouragement as she rants on the phone.

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