More whining about the wedding

So the wedding is now two weeks away. And I know that I am being unreasonable and whiny (seriously, I'm perfecting my petulant little sister act for this thing) and that weddings are all about the people doing the marrying and should reflect who they are as people and they should get to do whatever the hell they want. Yeah, yeah, that's all true and well and good. But it gets sticky when one of the people in question is not only related to you but the cause of some serious emotional baggage. It's not just that my brother and I aren't getting along right now, or that he's my brother and I find him annoying. It's that we're so inherently opposite from each other. The black tie cocktail party has been upgraded to a sit-down dinner. Now there's a bit to do about the 'family' dinner on Friday night, which I thought was my parents' idea, but my brother seems to have taken over too. Apparently there won't be time for me to get from the airport to the hotel to the restaurant, and no one would be comfortable starting dinner without me. I know this is a tiny detail, and actually indicative of politeness and whatever, but seriously? No one should care when I get to the restaurant. My brother and I do not play major roles in each others' lives, I'm just the little sister, I'm flying in from out of town, one person at the dinner besides my family will even know who the hell I am, who cares if I arrive late? It gets under my skin because it's this damn dramatic formality that accompanies everything my brother does. And again, if it makes him happy, he should be as formal as he damn well pleases. But given how diametrically opposed that is to pretty much everything about me, I'll be just as damn well pleased to complain about it and how uncomfortable it makes me. It just sucks all the fun out of a room. How can you possibly be warm and caring and enjoy people's company when you're so caught up in etiquette and appearances? That level of formality, his level of formality, wears me out just thinking about it. And makes me feel like I'm five years old again and being told to keep my hands in my pockets so I don't break anything. I know I'm reading a lot in to one stupid thing, but I know my brother, and I know this Friday night arrival to dinner is indicative of how the whole weekend will go. And how I will spend the entire time feeling horribly out of place and inappropriate. I like to think by this point in my life I'm pretty comfortable in my skin, and I know people shouldn't be able to make me feel a certain way against my will, but damn if my brother doesn't just push all my buttons.