This weekend was, with very little doubt, the shortest of my life. It is Sunday evening; I feel like I’ve just returned home from school and am getting ready to go to bed and get up early for the next day.

My schedule has been completely thrown off. And that we go to school Monday, then have Tuesday off for Veterans Day, and finish up the week with three days of school will only exacerbate my confusion.

For the reason my head is messed up, see the following summary: Family car trip/vacation with a wedding, followed by spending the night on a futon with a sister who does kung fu in her sleep.

The wedding was very nice. It didn’t drag on forever, as some weddings do; it didn’t feature audience members with crying babies or ringing cell phones, as some movie weddings do. The church was not cold or drafty (although the steps on which we stood while waiting to get in boasted a wind chill of about seven).

Either way, I was glad to go. Weddings still intrigue me – I’ve been to six. I was 8 for the first – already too old to be a flower girl. When I was 12, I was the train holder in my cousin Tessa’s wedding, an affair that seemingly took two hours, throughout which I had to stand very still in front of the room, right next to the bride. Being a flower girl is different. My sister, who was 3 at the time, was a flower girl. After she dumped her petals in the middle of the aisle, she got to sit down next to my grandma in the front row.

In this weekend’s wedding, between my cousin Nick and his fiancee – now wife – Elisha, there was no train holder and no flower girl. Unless you have an extremely long train, there is really no need for a train holder. (I have known this since I was 12.) A flower girl, I guess, is not a requisite, either. Driving to the ceremony, my sisters entertained the idea that Zoey, the large, energetic dog owned by our cousins, might be the flower girl, but as it turned out, she wasn’t even present for the festivities. (“She couldn’t be in the church with all that hair everywhere,” explained my uncle.)

My mother and grandma were both glad Zoey wasn’t there, but I am sure they would have enjoyed the wedding even if she had been sitting close by, eyeing their laps. I enjoyed the ceremony and the whole shebang. I had fun. Even at the reception, having to scoop out rock-solid sherbet in an attempt to make punch, I had a good time. Everyone seemed happy.

I was happy until we got back home and I realized I had school in the morning. Fun!

I did more these two days than I do most weekends, yet I still feel robbed of my time off. A weekend is not a real weekend when you’re only home for two daylight hours of it. But I’ll get over it; Veterans Day will be my extended weekend. Unfortunately, I’m sure I’ll fall into thinking Tuesday is Saturday. So by Wednesday, I’ll be doubly disappointed to have lost my break again.

Oh, well. This will make next weekend seem extra long.

Sara Phinney is a junior at Pendleton High School and can be reached at sara87@oregontrail.net.