A mini-reunion, a 3-tiered cake, and mega-good times

My oldest friend is Angela. Not age-wise, but length of relationship-wise.  But I think she may be the oldest age-wise, too...not sure.  To me we're still 14.  We've known each other since we were 4 years old, in the same dance class, trying to coordinate our little feet and become nimble little ballerinas.  We went to different grade schools, but the same high school, having many of our classes together.  We went to the same college, and lived about two blocks away from each other for a looong time.  Then, one day, she met a boy.  His favorite color was blue; his favorite movie was Ishtar for reasons she still doesn't understand.  He cooked her a first dinner of stuffed shells. (These details came out during a game we were playing--I don't have this kind of insider knowledge about him).  And then he asked her to marry him. There are a lot of other events, and several years thrown in there between the stuffed shells and the proposal, but I wanted to get up to speed quickly. I'm not writing a novel here, folks. 

Almost 2 years ago, she made the move to Chicago, where they are happily dwelling and tidying up the plans for their wedding next month.  This past Saturday we held her shower at her mother's house.  I have not seen her in almost 2 years, so it was a much-anticipated day of hugs and laughter.

I love the little cake-topper Homer and Marge Simpson.

 Those flowers are all made of sugar.  They look like porcelain.  They taste like yum (I snuck a taste, just to see).

That cake is 3 layers of dee-lish.  There was a chocolate chip layer.  A plain vanilla layer. And an Italian rum cake layer.  I had to sample all three to make sure they were edible.

Here are a few traditional shower staples in white: the lacy umbrella and the gift-opening chair.

 Look at the way that satin is wrapped around each rail of the chair!  And the cozy footrest!  And the obligatory umbrella to catch the good wishes (or something. It's something good.  I'm not sure what, but it catches good things. Or maybe it's literal because it's a shower.  Maybe I should have looked it up).

One day I shall sit with my feet propped up and open lovely present after lovely present.

If your name is Angela and you live in Chicago stop reading this right here because I don't want you to cry again (please don't be mad at me for letting people know you cried).

About ten years ago, my lovely friend lost her darling father.  In order to perpetuate nostalgia, her mother took a beautiful gift that was given to her for her own wedding, and passed them on to her daughter, for use at hers:

The left one says "Groom" and the right says "Bride" (sorry for the blurriness).

I love heirloom gifts; this one was especially touching to see being given.  There was another moment like this when she opened the cake knife and serving thingee that were also her parents'.  It was a touch humorous because her mom prefaced it with "I'm sorry...I did these up too." 

OK, Angela, you can start reading again.

We, her bridesmaids, all went in on one big gift, but we each gave her a little individual gift too. Here's mine (try to hide your shock):

I love how it reflects back up in the mirror.  My Angela is not the traditional sewing basket type of girl, so a small, sparkly purple train case was the answer.

And what's a bridal shower without underwear? 

These are so deliciously saucy.  

I don't want to get kicked out of the wedding so I'm not going to share the beautiful lace nightie she received. Plus I don't know if that violates some wedding night code of not seeing the bride...or if that only applies to the dress....I'm not taking any chances. She's going to be mad enough at me for telling everyone she cried and then showing people her underwear.  If we were still kids she'd probably be figuring out a way to pants me to get me back.

We ate, and laughed, and ate, and talked, and talked, and talked.  So much fun. Such good times.  I can't believe we're all grown up and getting married.  Well, some of us are.  Yours truly still has her sanity. Haha...just kidding.