Trying to find the end of the rainbow

...I know it's out there, somewhere... you know, that pot'o'gold... or even that silver lining has to be out there lurking in the nearest rain cloud. I know it's there.

I am just growing so weary trying to find it.

Let me just say that I have tested the strength of my heart and I have passed the stress test. I am still standing and have graciously conceeded. I was run over by the Mack truck and got back up. I am Rocky. I can take a punch. I am woman, hear me roar. Or perhaps I am just a wimp who backs down from a self -professed "strong woman"?

What's up with all the metaphors, idioms, and/or similes, you ask? Please explain, you query? Oh, where to begin...

Hmm...let's just say that: it's her wedding and I'll cry if I want to. Better yet, let me briefly explain:

Mother of Bride asks bride what she wants her to wear to said wedding. Bridesmaids are wearing knee length dresses, bride wants mothers to follow suit and coordinate with complimentary colors for photographic eye appeal. (said bride happens to be a photography major.) Mother of Bride complies with bride's wishes and with etiquette rules. She then emails Mother of Groom a web link of her dress and specifies exact color of her dress. Mother of Groom then waits one month before said wedding to purchase her dress. She gets the EXACT same color dress as the Mother of Bride, only hers is a formal floor length gown with beading. Basically Mother of Bride appears to be underdressed and outdone. The rules of etiquette have just been broken and there's no turning back. Was this intentional?

Mother of Bride calls MOG and invites her out for coffee to discuss last minute wedding details... while on the phone, small talk ensues...discussions of wedding plans warms the icy chill in the air. A brief mention of dresses and then MOB inquires about what she already knows as truth: the color and length of MOG's dress. (oh how gingerly MOB tiptoed in her new silver blingy strappy sandals from Zappos.) MOB happens to be oh so very considerate to other's feelings and was raised by grandmother of the bride to abide by the GOLDEN RULE. (to treat others how you would want to be treated.) hmmm... MOG must not have gotten the memo.

In the end, MOG wins. MOB backs down. MOG doesn't care what MOB thinks, what the bride wants, what kind of statement she is making, what others will think, what's proper etiquette, etc. Nobody can tell her what to wear, what color to wear, what length to wear, or what NOT TO WEAR.

Gosh, where's STACY AND CLINTON when you need them?